#The angel says add some tags first

[achilleswishes]

[devilishdelights]

could not be mc because if i heard a voice speaking to me i’d just think it’s on me and my brain. like oh no i’m hallucinating voices again haha, makes sense since i’m in this stressful insane situation :)

and then at some other point when it does become unbearable and i realize it’s NOT me id just ask to move to purgatory hall. (would ask diavolo directly and give my reasoning as to why because lucifer is a dickhead and would say no simply because he can)

[hwaightme]

23:13 PM

(masterlist)

🌆pairing: bf!yunho x gn!reader 🌆genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort 🌆summary: to be loved is to be heard, and yunho reminds you of this again and again, knowing you beyond the literal and the expected. 🌆wordcount: 1.5k 🌆warnings/tags: unedited, speedwriting, kissing, mildly suggestive in one part (through a light joke), pet names (angel, princess, sweetness), overthinking, rumination, low mood/sadness, implied anxiety (reader) 🌆taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌆a/n: genuinely have been loving yunho's styling so much <33 again another small timestamp to try warm up~ any love is so appreciated!

“Your tone.”

“My what?”

“Your tone was off, that’s why I’m here, so… may I come in or…” you gape at Yunho as he shifts his weight from one foot to another, accompanied by the rustling of a plastic bag in his hands.

“Um… sure?” you step aside and let him pass, taking a moment to register that you do, as a matter of fact, still have to play the role of a welcoming guest despite your current state of mind. 

In a rush you take out some slippers for him and throw a new hand towel by the bathroom sink. He is endearingly awkward even in the midst of having made the bold decision to come here in the first place, you note, and timidly smile to yourself. Yunho’s eyes dart around the entrance and corridor as though he is looking for something.

“Is there anywhere I can leave this?” he lifts the bag, and it hits you that he had brought food. Takeout from a restaurant that you had been raving about on your latest date with him. You feel nauseous and guilty at the thought of him speeding through town at ‘probably should be getting ready for bed o’clock’, firstly to the restaurant, and then all the way to yours. Why did he? He most certainly does not have to. It’s not like you said anything or asked.

“Oh! Yes, sorry, let me take that, I’ll put it on the table,” you make a beeline towards him, freeing him from the takeaway, “The bathroom is-”

“Right here to the left. Sweetness, I do recall being here a few times before,” you catch his smile - reassurance that his comment contains nothing malicious, but nonetheless drop your head, choosing to focus on untying the plastic handles. 

Rustling drowns out the constant noise in your head. On and on it rumbles and cries trying to overpower polystyrene and running water. What did Yunho mean by ‘tone’? Surely you were not texting any differently than you normally did? The usual ‘how are you’s and ‘when are we seeing each other next’s - nothing out of the ordinary. You try to retrace your steps as though you are a criminal on the run having found out that you are now being hunted by police. What is it that let Yunho know of what you were trying to not reveal?

“Need any help?” while you are stuck in your mind again you do not notice Yunho approaching you and gasp in surprise. He tilts his head, obviously having noticed your reaction, but does not comment on it, instead choosing to focus on your choice of dress for the late evening. You try to suppress the embarrassment welling up in the corners of your eyes and that stubborn intensifying lump in your throat as he studies you. Maybe you should have changed, or not let him in, or something else entirely, just so you can be alone.

“I think I’ve got it…” you mumble, having finally undone the knots and commenced taking out the different containers.

“The hoodie,” you glance up at him and immediately meet his glistening brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I-”

“I think you look beautiful. And adorable. And my heart will give out,” a soft grin, and you swear you could melt, “besides, we did agree to give each other some space in our homes right? The only difference is I’m not sure I would wear what I have at mine since I wouldn’t want to ruin your linger-”

“Yunho!”

“Just saying!”

“Cheeky! Anyways… Do you want water, tea, or maybe Coke?”

“You know exactly which one I’ll pick.”

“Coke it is-”

“Let me get it though. What do you want?” He steps around the table to intercept your path to the kitchen. 

“It’s no big deal.”

“Can’t I treat my princess a little? You already unpacked all the food,” not wanting to make a big deal out of nothing, you surrender to the temptation of doing nothing. 

“Water will be fine.”

“One water coming right up!” you chuckle as you watch your boyfriend move around the kitchen, knowingly opening the right cupboards as if this is as much his place as it is yours. You hide your hands in the sleeves of the hoodie, languidly pushing two chairs back when Yunho tells you to take a seat. 

“Thank you,” you accept the glass, using it as an excuse to not look at Yunho. 

If there is some way in which he can detect shifts in messages, you most certainly can sense when he settles into a more serious version of himself. It is nothing intimidating, of course, but nonetheless, something you presently need to prepare yourself for. He is worried, and it is a little too clear by how closely he positioned his own chair to yours, how he shifted to be almost facing you. How… How does he know?

“Let’s eat! Tell me what you want, point at things, anything!” again, he chooses to avoid interrogating you, you can sense it. His voice is laden with something unreadable, but you do not want to dive into the matter and decide to simply follow what he suggests. On top of avoiding what you fear, you realise that Yunho’s voice is considerably louder than your inner critic. 

You observe his movements. He carefully ladles some soup for you, picks one side dish after another, breaks apart the pieces of another dish you merely glanced at, just to be sure that you are having what you want. In the dimmed lights his navy hair, which usually gives a mesmerising vivid blue gleam appears to be almost black, the elegant strands swept to the side and falling over his forehead reminding you of ink strokes. You recall that he mentioned having a schedule earlier that day, and that same feeling of guilt spreads over your body. What if he is tired? What if said schedule ended later than expected and he did not have a single break? Dealing with his job, dealing with you-

“Try this, it’s apparently a bestseller,” once more, Yunho is the one to take you out of your own paranoia. 

“I’m sorry-” the words escape your mouth before you can process them. A deer caught in the headlights, you are staring at your boyfriend, feeling your pulse quicken. He puts down his chopsticks, completely turning to you, his and your legs pressed close together under the table, his hands searching for yours. Before you know it, more agitation spills and keeps on spilling, “I really did not mean to worry you, I should’ve insisted you rest… I mean you are probably so tired and stressed because of work and-”

“I am here, angel, am I not?”

“You are… but-”

“I both need and want to be here. So what if I had work. Now is not work time. Now is ‘us’ time. Yeah?”

“How?” a little confused, Yunho raises an eyebrow and gently squeezes your hands, “How’d you know?”

“What do I know?” you know that expression. The ‘fully aware of what you mean but wants you to say it’ look. A little unnerving because it makes you look inside yourself, but still possessing an unparalleled charm. Classic Yunho. You crack under his enamoured scrutiny.

“The tone thing… too on the dot. So… how?”

“Ah, that! Surprised you, did I?” Letting go of one hand, he leans onto the table and while resting his head on his palm, holds your gaze, “Just a hunch really. I don’t know how either, maybe my brain has a special ‘you’ alarm in it.”

“Oh come on-”

“What? Very plausible. I like thinking about you, a lot.”

“You really are too sweet,” you leave your original question hanging in the air, unsure if you even need to hear what he will say, or if it will help in any way. Yunho reads your doubts like an open book.

“I mean if I knew for sure, I would tell you. I would tell you everything. But I cannot pinpoint anything in particular. It was this feeling in my chest that bubbled up while we were texting. The words, the sentence structure… it’s you, but it’s you when you’re upset, and I don’t want you to be alone when small steps appear giant.” At a loss for words, you merely nod, biting your lower lip to keep it from trembling, and let his voice echo in your heart.

“You have superpowers I swear,” you force out a barely audible whisper, and gingerly reach to move one of his strands, blushing when he captures your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Nope, just think about you always.”

“I’m sorry again-”

“Apologise by having dinner with me, and then we can move,” he gestures at the sofa with your intertwined hands, “right over there, and talk through things, if you want to of course. How does that sound?”

“Good,” you move to give him a feather-light kiss, “it sounds good.”

Silence. Total silence aside from Yunho’s warm, loving presence, soft chatter, and the awareness that sometimes, you don’t need to say anything in particular to be truly heard.

🌆taglist: @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

[alastorthirsty]

Hooray For Makeup Sex! ch. 1 - Alastor x f! fallen angel!reader

Request: Hi! I recently read one of your alastor pieces & ohhhh my god! It was amazing. I was wondering if you would do something alastor x f!reader where they have an argument, add some angst, some fluff, some heavy heavy smut? Almost like alastor begging for reader & wanting to do anything for her to forgive him ?? Just a little idea. :) thank you so much for your wonderful work!’

Hey nonnie! I’m absolutely thrilled to fulfill your request. I hope this hits the mark! Let me know if it does! 😘

Word count: 6678

Warnings: established relationship, breakup, angst, fluff, Alastor is a very jealous and possessive but also in love man, thigh riding, (angelic) bloodplay, vaginal intercourse. Listen, we all know Alastor is a Bad Man(tm). In this story and many, many others, Fucked Up Alastor is going to say Fucked Up Things. Alastor is a sentient red flag. I would like to kindly remind you that you need to carefully decide whether or not that's too much for you before you begin to read. I'd hate it if you read and got triggered by some possessive or otherwise red flag dialogue/prose! If it’s not for you, you can simply block me and avoid my other fanfiction. You're responsible for your own reading experience!! 💖💋

Please like, comment, and reblog to sustain me! Let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list and remember that requests are open!

Chapter 2 | Masterlist

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon. He stares at the heatless green fire in front of him, whiskey in one hand, the other tapping against the arm of his chair.

That was Charlie’s unsolicited advice, a rehash of old material. It starts with sorry, Al.

Well, he stubbornly doesn’t believe he’s in the wrong to begin with, so why should he go and grovel at your fucking feet?

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon, and that’s that.

He throws the whiskey across the room suddenly, with such force that the crystal crashes into the opposite wall, forcing him to look at it.

Oh, it’s luxurious. A four poster bed with a white linen canopy. A mattress that adjusts itself to your whims, night by night. Silken sheets in the exact shade of your favourite colour. All of it for your benefit and yours alone—for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even sleep! He doesn’t need to sleep, he just needs…

Alastor stares at the bed, imagines how he’d sit next to you as you slumbered, glancing over at you occasionally for the sake of your comfort and security. He remembers how you’d snore lightly and how he would push hair out of your face as you snoozed. He remembers smiling…

He remembers smiling.

He also recalls other little activities the two of you got up to in this bed, satisfying a hunger he’d never known before you, but that isn’t something he craves anymore. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

‘Sorry’ isn’t a word in Alastor’s lexicon, even though… even though…

It needs to be.

He sits there thinking of everything from the beginning. The day you first met, all those mysterious luminous creatures floating along, moving your furniture past the lobby. Your soft and kind smile, the one that sickened him at first. That damnable dress you wore the first time the two of you hit the sheets, and how fun it was to rip it off your body. The way his shadow always tried to steal feathers from the wings of your shadow. The first time you yelled at him for that.

He thinks of where things went wrong, the man that caused that incredible din, but the only thing he can think of, if he is finally honest with himself, is himself. His own jealousy, his controlling nature, thinking he knew what was best for you. That was what sparked the argument, wasn’t it?

It his fault, certainly, but ‘sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, period.

The lilies are still on the bedside table. They are dried, desiccating, the little leaves and petals falling onto the surface. He had gotten the lilies to say ‘sorry’, in his own way, but you never did come back to his room.

He lays back on the bed and plucks a dying lily from the bouquet, keeping it in his hand. It's not difficult to imagine you there beside him, your arms wrapped around him as he presses his face against your shoulder, and oh, that’s when it really hits him.

Your scent. He remembers it so well that he smells it now, a phantom chased by nothing. His eyes close and he rolls until his head meets your pillow, breathing in your scent deeply.

‘Sorry’ is not in his lexicon, but goddamn it, there are lilies.

What would it take, what flowers would fix things, if lilies were not enough? Pink roses? White orchids? Tulips? A hundred dozen daffodils, flooding the entire hotel?

Alastor notices now how his hands are shaking at his sides. He clenches his claws into fists and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent again. The best thing to do is to incinerate the pillow, the bed, the lilies…

No, no. His jaw tightens. No, that would be the easy thing to do. Not the best, or even the smartest. It was the cowardly thing to do.

‘Sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, but he’s no fucking coward.

He can almost hear your voice in his ears, whispering his name with such sweet affection. He remembers your laugh, a sound like music to him. A laugh reserved for him and him alone. Something special.

He's never needed anyone else's company before. He never bothered with the emotional needs of other people. You’re the only person he's ever cared for, the only person who has ever truly meant anything to him. He feels weak and vulnerable over your absence. He doesn't like feeling like this, but you’re the one woman that can break down his walls.

Alastor doesn't like needing you, he doesn't like letting you have this power over him. But at this moment, he doesn't care. He'd give anything to just hear your voice again, even if it’s just to yell at him and tell him to fuck off.

Again.

The sound of your voice, the way you looked into his eyes, your little imperfections that only served to make you all the more perfect in his eyes. He remembers how your lips felt against his skin, the soft warmth of your touch.

He doesn’t like to need you, but he does love it.

He opens his eyes, clutching the now withered flower so tightly that all but a few brown petals fall from the stem. He stares at it for a long moment, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. A green fire erupts from his palm, scorching it first, then turning it to ash. He stares at it, the lightness of it in his palm.

He's always had such strict control over himself, even under stress or grief, but not anymore. Not when it comes to you. You’ve always been able to cause feelings of weakness and helplessness within him. He hates himself for feeling this way, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hate you. No, never you.

He closes his eyes again, imagining you lying beside him. You would have wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the side of his neck. Sometimes, you’d start leaving the tiniest of kisses down his neck. It would make him shiver, it would make him…

Just like that first night when things turned physical. Your hands would always find a way under his shirt, running your fingers over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your fingers tracing reverently over his scars.

He can almost feel the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Alastor sighs in consideration of his current position. One of, if not the most powerful Overlord of hell, lying in a bed he does not need, pining after a fallen angel who once (admittedly, accidentally) broke a horn off his shadow. He breathes in your scent again. A fallen angel who made his mama’s jambalaya for him. A fallen angel who was never once intimidated by him. A fallen angel who created life, “along a certain slant of light”, as you put it, most of them visible only to you, except for shimmers of light, like oil on water.

A fallen angel who wouldn’t speak to him even if he said sorry.

Alastor sighs, sits up, holding her pillow like a child holding a fucking teddy bear.

“Fuck.”

He smacks himself on the forehead and drags his hand down his face.

“Fuck.”

He says it again, getting a taste of the word, the pride of it in its coarse formation and meaning.

Alastor sighs, holding the pillow, looking at the bouquet of dead lilies. “Fuck.”

He wants to feel the softness of your lips again. To feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against his. But more than anything, he wants to hear you laugh again. He wants that beautiful smile back, the smile you give to him and only him.

But he doubts that will happen. You’ve probably already moved on from him, and honestly, he wouldn't blame you for doing so. Well, that’s a lie.

He knows he's difficult, and demanding—sometimes too demanding. You’ve always been far more patient with him than anyone else, but even that has its limits. And he's certainly pushed those limits.

You’re probably in the arms of some other man right now, maybe even him, laughing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You probably don’t even think about Alastor anymore.

‘Sorry’ may not be in his fucking lexicon, but like hell he’d ever allow another man into your bed, and certainly not…him.

Alastor makes sure he’s impeccable before riding the dark to your room. He decides it would be a rather stupid idea to appear inside your room without permission, so he settles on the hallway and knocks on your door.

“Come in!”

The sound is muffled, and he feels the sharp need to lecture you on not checking who is at the door before letting them in, but he refrains. He turns the doorknob and walks into your room for the first time in a while and finds you—

Down on the floor, halfway underneath the bed.

“This seems like a cliche pornographic film,” he comments as he shuts the door.

Herbert, the only one of the little light creatures that he can see, floats towards him.

You try to sit up right when you hear Alastor’s voice, banging your head. You get out from under the bed and stand up.

“Herbert, leave him alone,” you say.

“Nonsense! Hello little creature,” Alastor says to the glowing bastard he had tolerated at best before the breakup. He summons up an apple for the mischievous little son of a bitch to snack on and Herbert quickly zips away with it, disappearing under the bed.

“How did you know that being stuck is a porn cliche?” you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed. “Been watching a lot of it lately?”

“I think you know that I have not,” Alastor says, leaning forward on his staff. “We just so happen to live with an adult film star who tries to pull the ‘help me I’m stuck’ routine on Husker at least twice per week. What were you doing under the bed, darling?”

“Herbert! He’s been stealing from me,” you say. “I knew I didn’t lose those emerald earrings you gave me. I found those and then some in his little nest under the bed.”

He can’t help but swell with pride. One of his favourite things to do was present you with gifts and he loved seeing them on you every time.

“What do you want?” you ask, and that deflates him a bit.

Alastor takes a breath, his chest rising. “I need you to instruct me in something.”

“Go ask literally anyone else.” You open up the door, gesturing for him to leave, but with a bit of boldness Alastor flicks the door closed again.

“I’m afraid there’s no one better to ask than you, my dear.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alastor, I broke up with you so I wouldn’t have to deal with things like this anymore.”

Alastor pauses for a time. Honesty tumbles its way past his lips. “You are all that I love.”

The room goes silent, save for the sound of Herbert cronching his apple.

You give a sigh, a pained expression on your face, one that he hates to see. All of him wants to go to you, but you wouldn’t want that—not yet.

“Goddamn it,” you whisper. “Is that what you needed instruction for?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, loving you needs no instruction.”

You let out a breath. That’s all you can do before your head is in your hands.

“My dear, may I sit beside you?” Alastor asks after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You stand up and circle around him once. “Fuck you, Alastor!”

His eyebrows rise. “That is not the response that I anticipated or desired.”

“Oh it’s not?” you ask mockingly.

He’s never seen you act like this before, and it is surprising him. An unseen variable, one that choked him. His grip on his staff increases.

“My dear, I sense that you still harbour quite a lot of animus—“

“Shut up! Shut up!” You pace back and forth the length of the rug, also a gift from him. “Fuck you! Fuck you for saying the right things the wrong time!”

Alastor takes a chance and sits down on your bed, watching you closely. “Do you want more earrings?”

You immediately go to your armoire and start throwing jewellery at him. He’s quite literally stunned by this behaviour. Herbert comes out from underneath the bed and snipes a few rings.

“Darling.”

You say nothing, you just keep throwing things at him.

“Darling.”

“Just take it. Take it all back. Give it to someone else.”

Now he looks offended and straightens his posture. You run out of jewellery to throw at him.

“You know there can be no other,” he says, somewhat angry. “You know I’m not capable of having any such enjoyment with anyone else. You are all I love and all that I desire to love. All I can love. There’s none but you and nothing will ever compare, never come close. Do you understand?”

“Then keep them for yourself. Or let Herbert have it all, enable his fucking kleptomania.”

“They belong to you and you will have them. Every last jewel.”

“Alastor, you shouldn’t be here,” you say.

“That is a consideration I undertook before coming.” He leaves his staff on the bed and goes to you. “I need your instruction.”

“On what?” you snap.

He lets out a deep breath. “How many lilies will it take to be forgiven?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Forget the lilies then,” he says quickly. “Just disregard the matter of florals altogether. What token is needed?”

“Token?”

“It doesn’t need to be a physical object, not a coin one inserts into a slot in exchange for heroin or soda,” he says quickly. “I am explaining myself poorly. I’ll be truthful and direct, if you will allow me.”

Your arms cross again, a defensive posture. “Okay.”

“I need you. I don’t know how to be without you anymore. It’s maddening. I find myself missing you in all these vacant spaces that were not vacant before you. You created space in me that only you can fill, and now it is…empty. You made me this way, and it is your fault,” he says quickly. “And what am I to do, now? Accept that I am now empty? Accept that I will walk through eternity alone, with all this space within me, space that you and you alone can occupy?”

“And you hate it, don’t you Alastor? And you hate me for it.”

“I considered that,” he admits. “I tried to insist it to myself, that I did not need such adulations and that I didn’t need you, specifically. I tried not to need you, but your absence insisted upon you. I do not hate you. Nothing could force me to feel that way, not myself, not you, not Herbert.”

“Herbert?”

“Correct. Herbert.”

You sit down beside his staff, touch the microphone knowing you were the only person ever allowed to do so. You sigh. “I love you, too. And just like you, I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I know exactly what to do with it,” he responds.

“Yeah?”

Alastor nods. “We just…go back to before. Move forward. But together. I would sooner die than see you with another man.”

You lift a warning finger to him. “You’re not helping yourself.”

Alastor huffs. “It is the truth. You value honesty as well as I do.”

Now you scoff. “You deal in subterfuge, not honesty.”

“Not with you, and you know that,” he says, pointing at you. “I am a flawed man, but I’ve given you my very best. Better than I thought I had capacity for. Can you truly say that it was never enough?”

“Of course it was,” you say softly.

Alastor sighs and sits beside you. He thinks to put an arm around you, but manages not to.

“You are so used to getting everything you want,” you say. “You have the power to get whatever you want except me.”

He winces. “Please do not put it that way, darling. Please don’t say…we’ll never find a way. Please.”

Slowly, you reach over and touch his hand. When it curls together with his fingers, he places his other hand firmly on top, squeezing.

“Four hundred.”

He waits for you to explain, but you don’t.

“Four hundred what, dearest?” he asks.

You look at him and smile. “Four hundred lilies.”

Alastor snaps his fingers and four hundred lilies arrange themselves in vases on top of every surface in the room. Smelling them, Herbert whooshed out from underneath the bed and floated all along the flowers, playing with the tiny white bells in a way that Alastor could admit might be considered ‘cute’ by others. He looks back to you.

“Do you want to count them all, darling?” he asks.

“I don’t need to,” you say softly. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“I do not like that,” Alastor says immediately. “I do not like the sound of that. Is it him?”

“Don’t bring this full circle to the last argument,” you warn. “There is no other man. I just thought…you really came in here and said things that I didn’t think you could. You really laid it all on the line and I feel like you deserve the same from me.”

Alastor nods along slowly. “No other man?”

You shake your head. “No other men. Will you stop? Will you please stop? Will you let me talk now?”

“I suppose,” he says, pulling you closer. He settles so that his head rests against your chest. “I am listening.”

“It’s not exactly easy for me to open up either,” you say before clearing your throat. “There’s a wealth of differences between us but similarities that are significant. We both struggle with making space for other people in our lives and typically won’t.”

“That is true,” he says, fingers running along your shoulder.

You start to play with his hair, the fuck-ass bob you only came to love because it was his preference. You’re tempted to touch one of his ears, but now’s not the time for that.

“Sometimes it’s simply hard to believe that there’s this perfect person that really…loves me,” you say softly, quietly, almost wishing that you hadn’t.

Alastor tightens his hold on you. Neither of you could handle personal vulnerability quite so easily, but yours makes his heart clench. “Do I make you feel…less loved when we argue over other men?”

You sigh. “Alastor, it’s not just an argument about men, it’s you basically calling me a whore—“

“No, I didn’t,” he interjects quickly. “No. I have never called you that or thought it of you. You are my favourite, my treasure, my prize, and I would never think so lowly of you. Never, not in all of eternity until what you call ‘the inevitable heat-death of the universe’. I would argue that heaven and hell are a different universe but that is yet another argument we should never cross again.”

“Agreed,” you say, nodding your head. “Just like the argument about—“

“Horses running on their fingers, I know.” Alastor can’t help the fondness in his smile. No matter how heated the arguments, the passion between the two of you manifests itself in all ways possible.

You smile back at him and decide to take the chance to kiss him again. Just once. Just to show him he was still loved, cherished, longed for. It was only right.

Alastor cups the back of your head to keep you there. Fuck once, now that he’s gotten to kiss you he chooses to interpret it as carte blanche to take as many as he wants. Damn, how he had missed this…

You gently remove his hand and pull away. “I’m not done speaking.”

“Apologies,” he mutters.

You nod and continue. “I want to be the one you love. I want to be the only one you love, just as much as you want to be the only one that I love. You just can’t treat me like a soul that you own.”

Alastor’s eyes widen at that. Had he really…?

He looks you dead in the eye. “If I ever do that again, correct me with a good slap.”

You shake your head. “No. I won’t lay my hands on you with anything but affection and…shall we say, intimacy.”

“Intimacy,” he repeats, and almost moans then and there. It has been…too long.

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

“Will you ever be…comfortable with the idea of it again?” Alastor asks.

“I’ve practically undressed you with my eyes since you came in here.”

He goes to make a move but you rebuff him once more, sitting up in the bed. “The fact remains that I am hurt by you when you start questioning me about the attentions of other men, attentions that I do not notice more often than not, if they exist at all. Especially not from him. I keep telling you, he does not look at me that way, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

He nods several times in thought before sitting up beside you, turning to face you. “I am afraid.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve seen him express all sorts of emotions in front of you before but never, not once, had even alluded to fear.

“W-why?” you ask with a bare whisper.

“I’m not a good man, and you know that. You know what I do almost better than anyone else. You are too good for me, therefore I fear another man will come along, catch your fancy, and leave me with the choice of either killing him and devastating you or simply languishing in my own self-pity. Why are you so far?”

(Obviously he would kill the other man.)

Alastor drags you into his lap and you give no resistance. He holds you tight, intending to never let go, not now when there was a chance.

You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe him in. You’ve missed his scent, too.

“I’m not too good for you,” you mutter against his neck. “And I won’t hear of it. Understood?”

He smiles begrudgingly. “Fine. You will have it as you wish, my dear.”

“So,” you say. “What now?”

“Move forward,” he says again. “Be with me again. Allow me to present you with jewels. I will…continue to put up with that little abomination eating the lilies.”

You gasp and look towards Herbert. You clap your hands together loudly. “Herbert! No! They might be poisonous to you, and besides, they’re mommy’s!”

Alastor can’t help himself but laugh. “Mommy’s, you say?”

“I made him, I’m mommy!”

Maybe…maybe it was possible. You’re not a sinner, after all, and Charlie does exist…

Maybe he can give you fawns, bond you to him for all eternity, heat-death of the universe be damned.

Alastor chuckles, lets that thought slide by (for now). He whisks the lilies away before the little bastard can make himself sick and throws another apple at him. Herbert gasps softly, takes it, and back under the bed he goes.

“See?” Alastor says. “I am suitable.”

You smile at him softly. “Promise?”

“Yes, dear. I do promise. There are many things I can’t. We will continue to argue over pointless things, that’s already in the cards. We will bump heads and piss each other off. I will be jealous, I will certainly be possessive, but I will never express it to you in a way that makes you feel like a harlot. And I will try not to over-analyse every interaction with him. Perhaps I will never express it at all, that would be best, I know…

“And I will fail. And you will, too. We will have our… fuck-ups, as you often call them. However, for all the fuck-ups we ever had before, not a moment passed when I did not know that I loved you. You created space in me, made my lungs full. I cannot be without you now, and I think you…I think that you are the same. I hope you are the same.” He pauses. “Please, darling.”

You kiss him, and in that he understands your acceptance of this. Of him, his words, the explicit and implicit promises. Words were difficult sometimes.

He grabs you tightly and rides the dark to his bedroom, to the bed he made for you.

You break the kiss with an air of incredulity. “You know I hate when you shadow whoosh me!”

“And you know I have exactly one rule about where we are intimate.”

You sigh. “Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“Indeed. Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“And who said anything about being intimate?” you ask, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

He smirks. “There she is.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” you say.

He grins, his eyes burning with a dark, sinful desire as he responds huskily, his lips against your ear. “Ah, my love, I want to do everything to you. I want to touch you, taste you, explore every inch of you until nothing exists to either of us except each other. I want to hear you moan and gasp my name, to make you feel things you've never felt before.”

You give him a wicked smile. “We should do that.”

He grows in agreement, his eyes burning with need and desire as he responds in a low, guttural voice. “We absolutely should. We will. I’m going to explore every inch of you, to make you feel things you've only dreamed of. Are you ready for that, my love?

He pulls you so that your back is snug against his chest, not a bit of space between your bodies. His clawed fingertips run from your knee all the way to your hip. He can hear that little gasp you try to hide, can feel that little shiver. The hem of your dress hiked up, his hand moves to cup your mound. He smirks to himself when he feels you rub against it.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. He rubs against your underwear for a few moments, allowing you to rock your hips against his hand, and oh, there it was again. Control. Control over you, the greatest prize of all, and you gave it to him so willingly.

His hand slides his hand inside your silken undergarments easily—ones that he bought for you. It’s gratifying as hell, almost as good as feeling your slick folds against his fingers. He blunts his fingertips and rubs against you.

Alastor’s teeth catch on your neck and he’s more than tempted to bite down, but not just yet. You moan and he relishes it.

“You like that?” he murmurs against your ear. “You love it, don’t you? Being a good girl for me.” Alastor uses his free arm to wrap around your hips to stop you from moving. “Now, be very good.”

You give a soft little whimper when he won’t let you move anymore, knowing you’re at his mercy when he’s in a mood like this. Fingers slide inside of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Be still, and be quiet,” he instructs, smiling against your ear.

He can sense the struggle almost as soon as he says it. That little tremble in your thighs. The hand that shoots up to cover your mouth.

“Oh, no dear,” Alastor says, pushing it away with his free hand. ”Don’t test me again. No cheating, no tricks. No magic, no power. Only me.”

Listening to you trying to contain all your little sounds is priceless. Alastor knows how to play your body like a Stradivarius. His fingers move lower, deeper.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he asks, sucking a dark mark against your neck.

You’re not sure if it’s a trick or not until his little ministrations pause, causing you to whimper again. “You!”

“Atta girl,” he says affectionately. “You’re so wet for me.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, his chin rubbing against your neck as he kisses and teases you. "My love, I can feel. You like it, don't you? You like how I can make you fall apart in my hands, helpless to my touch."

He bites your neck softly, his teeth scraping against your skin.

You take a few shaky breaths. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

Alastor pauses, as if deliberating, and the lack of movement in his fingers is excruciating. Your pussy throbs at the loss, clenching around them, and you’re near the point of begging.

“No,” he says momentarily. “No, you are not allowed to speak yet. Good of you to ask, darling, but now is the time for you to listen, not to speak. Now, stand up.”

Confused, you manage to get up from his lap and stand one rubbery legs before him. Your eyes give the inquiry your lips cannot.

Alastor parts his knees wide and pulls you to straddle one of his thighs.

Oh!

Your cheeks warm and your jaw opens slightly. You almost shake your head, but Alastor reaches for your chin and holds it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs one of your hips and forces you to start moving, the grind against your wet, clothed pussy causing you to gasp.

“I’ve missed you in more ways than one,” he says, slapping you on the ass to encourage to ride his thigh on your own.

“It was my own fault, I know that,” he continues, and places both hands on your hips to support you as you move. “I was insane with jealousy, yes, and that is also my own fault. I cannot tolerate the mere notion that someone else would get to see you…like this. You are so very beautiful, darling. You are so very, very much mine.”

He could never let anyone else have you. He knew that he never would. Surprisingly, his possessive words seem to make you grind harder against him, your hips working more quickly. Alastor welcomes this with a grin.

“Ah, my dear.” His hands move from your waist to your ass, squeezing, making you moan for him again. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall. Come for me.”

Still unsure if you’re allowed to make any sound, you bite down on your lip hard, your eyes on his when a little golden rivulet drips from your poor, abused lip.

With a growl, Alastor lunges at you, though you are still in his lap. You fall down to the rug and he’s on top of you, licking up every trace of golden blood. Nothing could ever compare to it, he’d once said, and it turns him feral every single time he sees it or smells it. He kisses you, gently sucking at that tiny wound until it closes way too soon and his fist pounds the floor in anger. He raises his head, looks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay, but in bed,” you say.

Alastor picks you up quickly and tosses you onto it. He takes off his coat and throws it across the room. His bow tie is next, but you hold your hands out.

“Wait!” You say, reaching for him. “The shirt is my job.”

He grunts in his feral state, but he allows it, and soon his shirt is off and on the floor, forgotten.

“Where?” he asks raggedly.

“Where do you want?” you ask with a shrug. “This is your thing, but I’m happy to oblige. A bit. Not enough to make me dizzy.”

Permission granted, Alastor falls on top of you and goes straight for the jugular, literally. Just some sharp teeth and bam. He was drinking golden blood straight out of your neck, and you gave him the extra sensory delight of playing with his ears while he did so. He’s moaning, again and again, and you can feel how hard he is, pressed up against your body.

Eventually you decide he’s had enough and push his head away gently. Alastor kisses you instead, still giving animalistic energy, and rips away every article of clothing that separates you.

You can taste your own blood on his lips.

Somehow in this state Alastor remembers that he told you to come but didn’t let you and he quickly works to remedy that. His fingers enter you again. He knows your body well, he knows how to make you come in moments and you do, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Alastor finally leans back to look at the wreck he’s made of you and he smirks.

He holds one of your thighs against his waist and enters you fast, all at once, and the pace he sets is equally feral. Any time your blood came into the mix he truly could not help himself. His strokes are hard, deep, enough to make your knees wobble.

You hear him take a deep inhale and look up at him.

“My darling, the way you react to me, the way you react…Fit so perfectly, like your cunt was made just for my use.” Alastor bites at your neck again, but he won’t try to draw blood.

You grab one of the pillows and put it underneath your hips. This was an especially careful operation, considering how he was pounding you, but it tilted your hips and allowed for a more delicious angle.

Alastor’s clawed hand grabs your other thigh and squeezes hard. “What do you think, darling? Do you think this pretty little pussy was made for me?”

You nod several times, finding it harder and harder to catch your breath, but he’s without mercy this time. “Jesus…”

“Not an acceptable response, dearest,” he says with a little groan of exertion. He squeezes your thigh again. “Now, I believe I asked you a question. There’s only one correct answer, so give it to me.”

The sheets twist beneath your hands. There’s a decision to be made. Be forthwith and tell him yes or tease him until he’s out of his right mind.

“Damn it, darling,” he says impatiently.

You smirk. Let the teasing begin. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Alastor’s claws on your thigh almost drew more golden blood.

“You asked if my pussy was made just for you,” you say, your words coming out through pants because of his force.

His antlers grew larger, longer. His glare was menacing. His voice was dark.

“Then I suppose I must show you.”

The bed began to shake, and his tone shifted.

“Ah, my sweet darling, what I want to do to you right now is beyond description. I want to feel your softness, your warmth, your very essence against me, writhing under my touch. I want to take you, claim you, make you mine completely, with no doubting.”

“And how will you do that?” you ask playfully.

His hands grip you tighter, pulling you completely against him. He leans in, his lips trailing along your neck, his voice a low, dark growl in your ear.

“How will I do that, my sweet darling? I'm going to make you feel so good, make you scream from the pleasure of it. I'm going to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you, until you're so lost in pleasure you don't remember your own name or where you are.”

Your breath comes more and more harshly. “Did you soundproof the room?”

He gives you a look of pure incredulity. “Of course the room is soundproof! These precious little moans and gasps, they’re all mine, understand? Only I get to hear them, they belong to me!”

“Yes, yes!” You gulp for air.

“You do things to me, darling,” he says, “things that drive me absolutely wild. Your touch, your scent, your responsiveness, it all makes me ache and desperate for you. And you know it, don’t you?”

“I do my best.” You wink up at him. “Out of curiosity…what do I smell like?”

Alastor growls. “Ah, darling, you smell simply divine. I can't get enough of your soft, sweet scent. You smell like honey, like flowers, like the fresh air of a sunny day. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. I can't get enough of it, and I can't get enough of you. There will never be enough.”

“Keep me,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “Let there be no doubt in that. Yes, you're all mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. I'm going to make sure you never forget that, darling. You're mine. Do you understand that?”

His hand comes up to gently squeeze at your throat, a warning.

You swallow, knowing he could feel every movement, and nod. “Yes, Alastor! Yes!”

His grip on your throat softens somewhat. “You just love to be under my control, don’t you?”

“I love being at your mercy,” you say with a moan.

“Is that so?” There’s a grin on his face that presses against his voice, dark and velvet. “And why is that? Tell me.”

Your eyes flutter closed. “Because I’m the only one safe at your mercy.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, pushing your thigh higher against your chest. “Look at you. Hair all mussed, lip swollen, bruises on your throat. And I did all of it. Tell me, darling. Tell me.”

“You did it. You did all of this to me, you’re the only one I want…”

That was what he truly wanted to hear, you knew. His jealousy is a problem and in all likelihood will continue to manifest itself, but at the root of it he just wanted to be the only one you had an appetite for. He fucks you harder and harder until you start screaming for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing at your clit now. “Go on, make all of those beautiful, lascivious noises for me…”

You huff and gasp for breath. “Alastor, please, please let me come!”

He chuckles. “Yes, darling. That is the goal.”

When it hits you, you gasp first. Your hips grind against his, moving through it, along it, until it’s just too much—

But Alastor doesn’t stop. He holds you down, fucks you harder, draws it out for as long as he can. He smirks down at you as you shake for what he is doing to you—for you. His thumb circles your clit one last time before he’s finally merciful.

“So tight for me, darling,” he says, sucking the words between his teeth. It’s almost more than he can take, and he knows that it’s coming fast. He just…he needs something first.

He speaks in a gentler tone now, watching the bulge in your stomach move as he fucks you. “Darling…"

You’re still gasping for breath. “Yeah, honey? What is it?”

“Promise me that I’m…enough.”

“Enough?” You laugh, a raspy sound. “You’re too fucking much.”

Alastor lets out a gravelly moan, its intensity changing the pitch. You could almost swear that you can feel his cum inside you, all white and hot. When he finally stops moving, he leans against your thigh, chasing his breath.

“Bravo,” you say, putting your arms around him when he lays down beside you.

"I thought perhaps I had pleased you," he says, shuddering when you rub the base of his ears.

You laugh softly, breath finally caught. "Reconciled?"

Alastor nods. "Indeed. We are reconciled. If...you'll have me, anyway."

"I think that I will," you say, and from the corner of your eye, you see something on the wall and sit straight up, pointing. "That son of a bitch shadow of yours is stealing my feathers again!"

The smiling spectre flaunts his new feather and cuddles closer to your shadow. Maybe they were reconciled, as well.

[ninii-winchester]

Baby

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 630 words

Warnings: none.

A/n : this was better in my head but anyways.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The bunker door closed with a loud thud, Dean appeared in the war room with a bag in his hands. Y/n was throwing paper balls at Castiel in the library, while Sam was catching up on lore. The older Winchester’s boots thumped against the floor as he walked in the library.

“Whatcha doing fellas?” He asked leaning against a table.

“I’m being tortured.” Castiel said rolling his eyes, pointing towards Y/n.

“No you’re being a bitch, that doesn’t even hurt you.” Y/n retorted with a smirk.

“But it does happen to annoy me immensely.” The angel replied with sass.

Dean just shook his head with a small grin, knowing his girlfriend and best friend love play fighting. Sam had opted to tune out the pair of ‘kids’ until his brother arrived. His gaze dropped to the bag in Dean’s hands.

“What’s in there?” He questioned his older brother.

“Oh just a little something for my baby.” Dean shrugged with a smile.

“I wanna see.” Y/n said taking the bag from his hands and he willingly let her. She pulled out the item from inside the bag, the others watching with keen interest. Her face turned to one of confusion when she pulled it out. “Dean, this is a dress?” Her statement came out more like a question.

“Yeah and?” Dean asked equally confused.

“Now you might as well take her out for a candlelight dinner.” Cas commented with a straight face, which made Sam snort.

“I can do that. No big deal.” Dean replied with delight.

“Dean are you sure you’re okay?” Y/n questioned, her face showing concern. “This is absurd.”

“What’s is?”

“You really don’t think there’s anything wrong with buying a dress for a car?” She asked.

“No-” he said nonchalantly. “wait what?” His eyes widened. “You think I am some sort of freak who buys dresses for my car?”

“Might as well be.” Cas replied.

“You did say that’s something for baby.” Sam chimed in.

“I meant Y/n.” Dean replied his cheeks and ears turning red in embarrassment. Sam and Cas burst out laughing at his blushing face. It was a rare occasion when Dean Winchester got embarrassed. “Even you thought…” he trailed off looking at Y/n.

“It’s because you’ve never called me baby before.!” Y/n defended, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing out loud. Sure Dean has given her several nicknames over the years they’ve been together but he’s never called her ‘Baby’. It’s been reserved for the Impala.

“I’m outta here.” Dean said his face all flustered. He glared at his brother and best friend who were getting a kick out of the situation, walking down to the hallway.

“Dean c’mon.” Y/n said rushing behind him. “Don’t be a baby.” She teased and he turned to glare at her which made her purse her lips. “Alright I’m sorry. I won’t tease you again.” She said walking up to him and snaking her arms around his shoulders.

“You sure?” He asked tilting his head.

“Yeah promise. I love you too much.” She pecked his nose. “even if you’re a bit obsessed with your car.” She couldn’t help but add with a grin. Dean groaned dropping his head on her shoulder. She glanced at him with a mischievous grin. “So, do you love your car more than me?”

He looked at her, a playful glint in his eye. “Well, it’s hard to compete with a classic,” he said, smirking.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I guess I’ll have to settle for being the second love of your life.”

He pulled her into a warm embrace. “Don’t worry, you’re first in everything that matters.” She smiled knowing she was the one who can make his heart race.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@suckitands33 @starkleila

[thebowieconstricker]

Sweet Mornings

Lucifer Morningstar x reader oneshot

masterlist link

Request: Them cooking together and it ending in either him cuddling her so much that they forget about the food and it burns, or baking and that ends in a food fight and kisses. Bonus points, if it burns down the Hotels kitchen and Charlie freaks out.

Okay so this is the CUTEST FREAKING THING EVER??? Love this request sm sorry it took a million years whoops lol enjoy

Tags: Literally just pure fluff, pancakes, kinda language, whipped-cream-related violence, gender neutral reader

~~~

Warm, soft mornings in bed with your beloved partner were becoming more common ever since you and Lucifer had become a couple. Not only was he excellent at cuddles, but his wings made the most delightful blankets to fall asleep under. On this particular morning, you were slowly waking up, and the first thing you noticed was the gentle grip Lucifer had on your form, clinging to your waist even in his sleep. You glanced at the clock to your right as you laid on your back and softly giggled. It was 3:00 in the morning, aka the “devil’s hour”, as some called it, and here he was, asleep in your shared bed. You shifted a bit to stretch and Lucifer made a small noise.

“I’m just moving a bit.” You whispered, bringing up a hand to brush through his blonde locks.

“Mmm, nah, just stay here.” He reached his arm back over your stomach and grabbed your hip, pulling you against his side.

You smiled affectionately, and while you looked at his quite literally angelic face, you thought of an idea.

“Hey, Luci… you wanna make pancakes?”

His eyes sprang open and his eyebrows shot up. A wide grin broke out on his face and quicker than you could blink, he had pulled both you and himself up and off the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the two of you were dressed in comfortable robes with silly slippers. He wore a bright yellow pair with duck faces, because of course he did. Your slippers were of your favorite animal, which was one of the many gifts Lucifer had given you.

With a wave of his hand, Lucifer had magically transported the two of you to the kitchen downstairs. It was a rather large kitchen, plenty of shelves and cabinets stocked with ingredients. You adjusted your robe and began to move towards one of the cupboards when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your torso. Following close behind was the warm face of your lover, nuzzling into the back of your neck.

“Honey, we can’t cuddle and make pancakes.” You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. You could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied, “Who says we can’t?”

He snapped once more and suddenly, all of your necessary materials and ingredients appeared on the kitchen island.

“There ya go, now you’ve just gotta stand there.”

You laughed and shuffled to the island.

You quickly realized that this was going to be far more difficult than you originally anticipated. For some reason, Lucifer was determined to make the simple activity of pancake-making as tedious as possible for you. When you measured the flour, he insisted that you had poured too much, leading you to re-measure six times. The eggs that you cracked always had a bit of shell in them, and instead of helping, Lucifer would just magic you more. “I’ll keep my arms right here, thank you.” He said from behind you. He did, however, beg you to add more sugar. You finally had to put your foot down after the 3rd empty bag. Why did you trust his horrible advice? No one knows, but according to legend, he apparently knows what he’s doing when it comes to pancakes.

After you had finally created some kind of batter, you struggled over to the oven with Lucifer’s arms still around you. You carefully poured the mixtures onto the skillet after putting the eye on the ‘high’ setting, and with the warm, sweet smells from the food and the demon snuggling your back, you were starting to get pretty sleepy.

That’s when you noticed it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Lucifer had magicked some whipped cream in a can. Obviously, for the purpose of a topping, but you had other plans. You were sure that Lucifer’s eyes were closed behind you (you had even heard him snore a couple of times). Stealthily, you reached for the whipped cream and uncapped the can. You shook it and poured a bit into your mouth, just for fun. Then, you made your real move. You sprayed a good amount on your hand and put the can down.

“Hey, Luci, is it brown enough?” You asked innocently.

“Hmm..? I uh-“ He rubbed his eyes behind you and leaned over your shoulder to take a look at your pancake. “Yeah, you should probably flip-“

You swung your hand around and threw the whipped cream so it landed squarely on his face.

“AH-“

Lucifer’s arms eat go from your waist as he stumbled backwards in shock. His arms reached for his face to feel the whipped cream. Realizing what it was, he smiled wickedly as a forked licked the sweets off his hand.

“Oh, you have no idea who you just fucked.”

You doubled over as you cried with laughter at the sight of him, and laughed even more at that statement.

“It’s- it’s fucked with, Luci-“

Suddenly, whipped cream had landed on your face, splattering on your robe. You heard his musical laughter in front of you and, just like that, it was on.

Lucifer had summoned cans and cans of whipped cream on either of your sides and the two of you ducked behind and hopped over the kitchen island, throwing whipped cream at each other and throwing any other food you could find in the kitchen. You found a sleeve of graham crackers and started chucking those at some point while Lucifer grabbed some of his fire breathing ducks to melt the sugary ammo before it hit him. You took one of your shoes off and began chasing him with it, half laughing and half threatening him, when he finally, finally, held up a white napkin, and called, “I surrender!”

You kept laughing as you tackled him in a hug, the two of you falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Luci, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You playfully said to him.

“Hurt? I’m offended you think I could even get hurt-“

“Then why’d you surrender?”

His arms snaked around your waist once again and he smirked.

“I guess I missed ya.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him swiftly, the two of you too wrapped up in each other to care about the hectic state of the kitchen. Your hand went to his hair and carefully caressed it, trying to tidying it a bit. When you finally broke away, he looked at you breathlessly.

“Don’t get so excited there, you just had some whipped cream on your face.” You said to him, smiling.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and another can appeared in his hand, spraying some on his lips without missing a beat.

“You dork.” You said, and kissed him again.

Then, suddenly, a voice from across the room.

“OH MY GOSH GUYS THERE’S A FIRE VAGGIE GET THE EXTINGUISHER-“

So, the two of you may have forgotten about the pancakes.

[vesperaink]

Friends, my necromancer!Tango/grimreaper!Jimmy, Team Rancher modern with magic apocalypse AU, Graveyard Shift, for @mcytblraufest's Reverse Big Bang is here!

But wait there's more--go read chasing crimson written by @aliferous-ly, beta'd by @dibs2win, my fantastic team for aufest. If you love enemies to lovers, unlikely partnerships, and the power of soul-bound magic weapon contracts, this hilarious + dramatic 22.9k fic kicks off from this comic!

chasing crimson

Jimmy Solidarity works for the esteemed god of Death, reaping lost souls and taking care of unsavory characters. He's recently finished his training, and is determined to do well on his first solo mission. Perhaps this "Tango" would be a good start. Only, the god of Death disappeared years ago, and Necromancer Tango Tek's long since discovered a way around dying. He can't say he enjoys Jimmy swinging through and killing him where he stands, though.

Thank you to my team for being as feral about this AU as I am, and kicking everything about it up to 110. I had so much developing this world with them!

Thanks to @onawhimsicot for helping me with the comic's dialogue, fixing my composition woes with "just add more smoke," and encouraging me to complete it in full color! Check out Cadence's aufest fic, I take it back (ill follow till I fly or till im dead), a Cult of the Lamb AU about follower!Tango and Lamb!Zedaph, the meaning of devotion, silly experiments, eldritch transformations, and...the most platonic slowburn ever?

Lastly, thank you to the aufest team for another wonderful event! I had a blast again, and was giggling kicking my feet at everyone's reactions during claims, I loved every single one of them. Graveyard Shift is definitely an AU I'm coming back to. As always, my askbox is open if you'd like to chat, and I'd love to be tagged if anyone makes anything <3

Timelapse / AU art chatter under the cut!

While Graveyard Shift is the amalgamation of many of my interests, the main premise for this AU is loosely inspired by the webcomic, I'm the Grim Reaper, in both its apocalypse themes and its aesthetics! Not a required read, but highly recommend if you enjoy this au, as well as the anime and manga, Soul Eater!

I came up with a lot of AUs for this event but necromancer!Tango and reaper!Jimmy have been rattling around in my brain in separate AUs since before I started brainstorming for aufest. So I smashed them together, naturally.

(Unfortunately I didn't record all of my process, but most of it is here! CW for flashing; song is Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier)

I could go on forever about concept art and character design if anyone's curious but here's some fun bonus details about this comic:

Originally, Tango's outfit was going to be more like his Dungeon Master outfit but I wanted the setting to be more modern and Jimmy stole the fantasy cloak vibe from him already lol

Jimmy's entrance of lightning is my nod to the Life Series final death sound

The scarf Jimmy's wearing is designed to be a boneyard shawl

The panel of strange text reads "Protection Three" in Galactic :)

+ The name "Graveyard Shift" was thrown at me by Cadence in like 3 seconds flat after i spent 2 days agonizing over a name for this au LOL

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

(cw: a child, f!reader, "mommy", and "daddy")

[8:41 am]

"Are you sure she's warm enough?" Dad!Jeno asked nervously, adjusting the scarf on his toddler for the nth time.

"She's sweating Jeno, she's fine. Right baby?" You bend to ask the toddler to pull up her zipper.

She nods with an excited smile. You and Jeno had woken up to the excited squeals of you daughter while she jumped on your bed and babbled on and on about the snow. This would be her first year she could actually remember being in the snow and being able to play on her own. She was so excited, she talked the whole way through breakfast about how she couldn't wait to be outside and play in the snow until the sun went down.

Before you all went outside, after a lot of begging on your daughter's end, and many, many layers later, you were all heading down stairs to go outside.

Jeno had bundled her up in a thermal, sweats, gloves, a beanie, and a snow suit, the poor girl would be sweating outside. Jeno had made sure you were bundled up as well and led you all out of the house in his pajamas. Needless to say, you made him go in and get changed.

"Snow!" Your daughter cheered as she dashed out of the elevator. Jeno was hot on her tail, grabbing her hand and helping her over the icy sidewalk to get to the fluffy white snow.

You joined them outside right on time to see her plop onto her back, sinking into the snow to make a snow angel. She laughed happily, flapping her arms up and down through the snow. She stood up with snow stuck to her snowsuit and rosy cheeks, red from the cold and ran off to play some more.

You and Jeno watched her for a while, running around happily with the other kids of the apartment building. She made countless snow angels, snowballs, and just had fun in the snow.

Jeno smiled at her lovingly, "She really looks like she's having a good time- put the snowball down! Don't eat it!"

You laughed watching Jeno chase after her and the snowball she was going to eat. She ran straight behind you to hide, giggling like crazy and out of breath.

"Hey baby," You laugh, adjusting her hat, "Want to build a snowman with Mommy?"

She nods excitedly, beginning to gather up a pile of snow. Once it gets to the point where you need it to be taller you send her off to get some sticks and little rocks for the details. She comes back with an armful of twigs with happy laughs and beyond excited to show you some cool rocks she found.

Jeno joins you both to add his scarf to the snowman. Your daughter giggles happily, "It's daddy!"

Jeno laughs cheerfully and calls her over so they can start making more snowmen, one small one, and one more that was "adult size." The small one gets your daughter's scarf and the remaining one of course gets yours when your daughter waddles over to ask for your hat and scarf.

"Look at that baby! Who did you make?" You ask her with a smile.

She claps her hands, the sound muffled by her gloves, "It's me, mommy, and daddy." She begins to babble on and on about how she made them, how many sticks she found, her cool rocks, a dog she saw earlier, how she saw a snowman in a movie, and really- whatever else comes to mind.

Jeno comes up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer, "I think she liked the snow."

"So much she's trying to eat it again," you chuckle, watching her form a small clump of snow and lick it.

Jeno runs to her, "Not again! Leave it on the ground!"

-

tagging! @jaeminnanaaa17 enjoy more dad!nct dream :)

[noodlemoondle]

Drunken Care

Solomon x Reader

word count: 1.3k

cw: drinking/drunkenness, like ONE slightly suggestive scene, nudity? (i’m not rlly sure what to add here)

tags: fluff!, you’re drunk lol, caring solomon, bathing together, literally sleeping together

(idrk what to add here either lolol)

description: you get a bit too drunk at one of Diavolo’s balls and solomon brings you home and takes care of you

author’s note: posting this in honor of the end of obey me. i wrote this like over a year ago when nightbringer first came out so im not rlly a fan of how i wrote it but i rlly didn’t wanna rewrite the whole thing so i just fixed it up a bit. so i do apologize for that and anything i missed. also omfg i edited and fixed this like 3 different times bc tumblr KEPT FUCKING DELETING MY WORK. i was losing my mind but i rlly wanted to post it but i couldn’t post it unedited. also please bear with me as i sort thru all of my fics in my notes before i start writing new ones lolol.

N E wayzz i hope u enjoy!!! ·̀.̫·́✧

Diavolo’s balls were always fun. Sometimes it even seemed as if everyone in all of Devildom was invited to them. It was always fun to socialize and laugh with everyone, but eventually in the night you’d start feel a little left out since everyone would get drunk out of their minds and even though you didn’t necessarily mind the taste of demonus, you couldn’t really get drunk off of it so you don’t really see the point of drinking it. After a while, you’d just go hang out with Solomon since he’d be the only sober one left (not including Barbatos). Diavolo’s kind soul eventually took note this and made sure to get loads of human world alcohol so you and solomon could get as drunk as you please every time you were at the castle. Now this, made Diavolo’s parties the absolute best.

Solomon used to love getting drunk with you, but ever since you both got sent back in time he’s started to watch himself more since he knew how much you loved to get drunk with the brothers and someone needed to be able to watch over you. (and also since the last time he got super drunk he admitted some embarrassing things to you he’d rather not repeat). Tonight was no different, you were drunk out of your mind, greatly enjoying yourself, but it was just starting to get late and you needed to get home. Solomon had to forcefully drag you away before you died from alcohol poisoning (he swears you’re an alcoholic no matter how many times you deny it) you made sure to shoot him an angry glare with your bottom lip slightly poking out for dragging you away so early, but you eventually eased up on the drive home.

Solomon pulled up to the house and before you could get out of the car, he locked the door trapping you inside. In you confused, drunken state all you could do was was angrily stare at him as he made his way around to your door before opening it. He placed one hand on the roof of the vehicle, as he leaned inside to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“I don’t trust you to walk. Come here i’ll carry you.”

His princely act made you lose you forget your childish tantrum, replacing it with a childlike glee as you start giggling at him, jumping into his hold as he lifted you up. As he carried you to the door, you peppered his face and neck with kisses giggling and smiling with every peck you placed on him leaving a faint mark of pink lipstick on his skin. Solomon smiled down at you, adoring your cuteness whenever you got drunk. He begins to walk through the halls as he starts to make his way to the bathroom.

“Sol?” you ask innocently.

“Yes, baby?” he responds looking down and admiring your smile.

“You’re so pretty” you say accompanied with a smile.

“Angel?” he asks.

“Uh huh?” you say giggling obviously appreciating the name.

“You’re even prettier” he replies adding a kiss on your forehead as well.

You gasp and smile so big giggling even more. He looked down at you with all the love in all three worlds as he opened the bathroom door and placed you on the counter so he can start running a bath.

“Sol?” you ask again, beginning to kick your feet back and forth.

“Yes, darling?” he responds with a raised voice as the water begins to run.

“Do you know why i call you Sol?” you question.

He’s heard you tell him millions of times, but he never gets tired of the tale.

“No dear, why do you call me sol?” he says as he turns around to you smiling.

“Well not only is it because it’s a shorter version of your name, but did you know that in spanish sol means sun and you’re like my sun in life so it has two meanings!” you beam at him.

“You’re so cute you know that?” he says as he kissed your cheeks and lips

Solomon doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of telling you that. Telling you how much he loves you, how pretty you are, and how happy you make him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he continues to shower you with kisses. He then pulls away and pinches at your dress.

“C’mon now time to take this off” he says as he’s starting to slide it off your body.

“Why?” you ask him in a flirty tone smirking and tilting your head to the side.

“No. You’re drunk.” lightly slapping your back before kissing you again.

You pout and cooperate, lifting your arms up allowing him to undress you before undressing himself and getting in the bath. Solomon tries to bathe you, but isn’t very successful with you not letting go of him. Ss much as he loves you being a happy and affectionate drunk, you weren’t a very cooperative one. The soft environment and Solomon’s comforting embrace caused you to grow sleepier in the warm bath. He eventually got you to settle on his chest, laying your head on his shoulder, as he thoroughly shampoos and conditions your hair, softly humming.

Soon enough, he’s able to get both of you clean. He wraps you in a towel before bringing you to his room and placing you on his bed. He goes to his drawer to get you both clothes and you can do nothing more but just stare at him in awe as he leans over and picks out some clothes with nothing more than a towel covering his waist.

“Surprised you didn’t throw up. I think you drank your weight in shots. Now, which shirt you wanna wear?”

He said as he turned around only to find you looking at him with the most love struck face he could imagine.

“What are you staring at?” he questioned a breathy chuckle leaving his throat with it.

“You” you answered flatly.

“And who is you?” he teased walking up to you.

“You is my pretty, handsome, perfect, amazing, beautiful boyfriend solomon who i love so so so so so so so so so so SO much” you say looking up at him as if he is the only star in the sky.

“That was a lot of so’s” he laughs as he cups your face with one of his hands.

“I need more of them to describe how much i love you” you give a soft smile as he walks back to the dresser to put on his sleep pants leaving his chest bare while also choosing your sleepwear.

He walks over back to you and dresses you in one of his shirts he knew you favored and a pair of his boxers.

Once he finishes dressing you, he leans you back in bed and tucks you in following soon after. You’re quick to pounce on him the moment he enters the covers. You lay over his chest covering it in kisses, before you begin to settle down and start to fall asleep.

“Sol?” you whisper as quietly as you can. your sleepy voice had to be one of his favorites.

“Yes, angel?” he whispers back.

You move up on his chest getting close to his ear and quietly whisper: “I love you”

He chuckles pressing a kiss against your forehead and leaning down to your ear to mirror your action.

“I love you even more.” he whispers even quieter. it was a statement he made just for you, so only your ears should hear it.

You smile and bury yourself back into his chest, but before you could fall asleep you can feel him kiss the top of your head and smile against your head saying.

“You’re gonna regret drinking so much tomorrow”

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hello! I wanted to request since I saw your box was open. I would like to request a Alastor x husk's sister!overlord!reader and Alastor does not own her soul. She appears in the hotel one day to find Husk on episode 7, when they were building defenses in the hotel before Charlie, Veggie and Alastor returns, she lectures him and later says something like, 'At least, there's something merciful about Alastor. He never broadcasted your screams, that I don't need to hear or to have nightmares about' and 'I'm just glad to see your alive and safe', and Alastor is in love with her. I don't want it to be angst much just some fluff. Thank you! ^^

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The Cat and the Radio Demon - Part 1

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Overlord!Reader / Reader is Husk’s sister

Warnings/Tags: female reader, reader is Husk’s sister, reader is an overlord, use of alcohol, fluff (?), mutual pining, mention of toxic ex, Husk does NOT approve, English is not my first language! (Tags might change with upcoming parts but there’s no 18+ content planned for this fic.)

Summary: As Husk’s sister, you visit him the day before the upcoming extermination and find the hotel in a surprisingly chaotic state. During a deep conversation with your brother, you not only learn that heaven has specifically targeted the hotel this time but you also discover that an old acquaintance, whom you haven’t seen for seven years, is currently residing at the hotel. You decide to support the residents in their battle against the angels, hoping to also reconnect with the overlord who has intrigued you for decades – unaware that he shares your complicated feelings.

Wordcount: 4.6k

A/N: This will be a multi-part fic! It took me so long to write because I just couldn’t decide which way I wanted the story to go. This part is set during season 1 episode 7 and doesn’t feature much fluff yet because it mostly focuses on the relationship between Husk and the reader as well as the past between the reader and Alastor. I promise there will be a lot more fluff in the upcoming chapters! Comment if you like to get tagged in part two and I’ll add you to the list :D

Masterlist

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   Your thoughts race as you walk up the hill towards the Hazbin Hotel. Since the next extermination is about to happen tomorrow, you want to visit your brother just in case things don’t end well for any of you. With a deep sigh you raise your hand to knock on the huge double door as loud rumbling noises catch your attention. Voices mixed with clatter and hammering make the hotel sound like a building site and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Knowing well that no one would hear your knocks under this turmoil you decide to just open the door and step inside.

   The noises get louder when you enter the lobby and you freeze at the unexpected sight. The whole entrance area looks in fact like a building site. Little egg demons rush back and forth, carrying long wooden slats that must be at least triple as heavy as them. Most of the windows are bolded with messy wood paneling scattered across the window frames to shield the hotel from outside, letting almost no light through. The whole establishment looks like a lost place and you would've described it as one if there weren't the rumbling of woodwork and the scatter of voices echoing through the room.

   “Uhm, hello?” you announce your arrival, calling over the loud noises. You turn on your heels, letting your gaze wander around the gallery as you search for a familiar face – or at least for someone who isn’t an egg.

   When you tilt your head back, your eyes trail along the balcony that's surrounding the lobby on the first floor until your gaze gets stuck on three figures barricading the upper windows.

   “Hello?” you call again, this time louder. One of the figures stops hammering and turns around. A huge grin spreads across their face as they approach the balcony, leaning over the railing to look down at you. You immediately wave as you recognize Angel.

   “Oh hey, toots!” he greets you with an excited voice and waves back, holding a hammer in each set of his hands.

   You open your mouth to ask him for your brother as Angel already turns around and disappears so far behind the railing that you can only see the upper tufts of his fluffy hair. He moves his head back and forth, unintelligible voices, then it gets quiet until the pointy ears and huge wings of your brother appear in your sight.

   “Oh, hello, Y/N!” he shouts over the railing, “Give me a moment, I’ll come down!” He raises his hand to silently signal you to wait and walks over to the stairs. He approaches you with widely spread arms and a welcoming smile on his typically grumpy face, and pulls you in a tight embrace.

   Returning his smile you lean into his familiar hug and a comfortable warmth spreads through your body.

   “Hey there, sis. I haven’t seen you in what feels like ages! What are you doing here?” Husk squeezes you for a short moment before he lets go and musters your appearance with furrowed eyebrows, checking if something has changed since your last encounter. But you still look the same: a few inches shorter than him, your hair cut into a messy shoulder-length bob with loose curls falling in your face and tickling your nose and cheeks. In comparison to your brother’s appearance your sinner form looks mostly human – your pointy ears and fluffy tail are the only feline features that suggest a kinship with your brother. Other than that, you couldn't look more different from each other.

   You clear your throat and your voice runs deeper as you explain, “I wanted to see you before the next extermination. You know, in case something happens to one of us.” It has always been your personal ritual to meet a few days before an extermination happens but since this one is about to happen much earlier than normally, Husk didn't expect to see you this time – thus making him even more excited about your visit.

   “You want a drink?” he points with his chin at the bar and you nod, following over to the swampy-looking structure.

   “But please none of those throat-burning hellfire liquids. You know I prefer the lighter ones,” you laugh.

   Husk chuckles at your comment and slips behind the bar, his eyes searching the shelf before he takes two bottles and mixes you a light daiquiri with lots of ice to dissolve the taste of the alcohol a little.

   “Thank you.” Husk places the drink on the counter and you pull it closer but not intending to take a sip until at least one of the ice cubes has completely melted.

   Husk opens himself a bottle of cheap booze and places his elbows on the counter, resting his chin in one of his hands while holding the bottle in the other. “So… How are things going?” he asks curiously between two sips, a sly smile on his face.

   “Nothing too exciting,” you reply, twirling the straw in your drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. For a moment, you're lost in thought, recalling the events of the past six months. Then, something clicks in your mind, and your eyebrows shoot up. “Ah, that bastard Visco finally got what he deserved!”

   “Oh, really? T’was about time something happens,” Husk mumbles with a grunt and his eyes narrow. Visco, your ex, has been loathed by Husk ever since you introduced them. And honestly, Husk's feelings are completely justified. Visco isn't just a scumbag; he's also a cheater and a terrible liar. He's always tried to shift blame onto you for his mistakes. Even though you ended things with him years ago, he hasn't let go and continues to shadow your every move, denying you peace. If it were possible in hell, you'd have already obtained a restraining order against him. Not even your overlord powers can keep this jerk at bay. Despite your formidable reputation, he sees you as harmless, like a kitten, which is infuriating.

   “Yeah, he lost his home and all of the assets after fucking with the wrong demon. Eventually lost his soul to some drug overlord who now keeps him on a tight leash. And well… I might have involved myself a little to make that happen.” You feel a sense of satisfaction as you explain, wearing a proud and mischievous grin on your face. You can feel your eyes change their color for a quick second, before taking the first sip of your drink. The strong flavor of rum is mellowed by the melting ice, allowing the tang of lime and the hint of elderflower to dominate the drink with a subtle sweetness.

   “It would surprise me if you hadn't had at least a little influence on it. Took you long enough,” Husk grumbles and you roll your eyes.

   “You know very well that despite my status I’m not one of those who prefer to resolve their problems with violence. I like to let my intellect play the game and make up my own rules. And this time, the circumstances had aligned well enough for the best possible revenge!”

   The cat demon chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. He knows you well enough to understand how important it is for you to gain your power through subliminal actions.

   He clears his throat and looks over to his comrades who are still busy with covering the windows in wood panels. “Well, even though I’m glad you’re here, Y/N, we shouldn’t spend too much time just chatting. We have to prepare a lot ‘cause things will get dirty tomorrow. Even dirtier than normally.” Your brother’s voice turns into a growl at his last words and you frown in concern.

   “What do you mean by that?”

   “Well,” Husk clears his throat and takes a long sip from his bottle, “the angels are specifically coming for the hotel.”

   Silence.

   You just stare at your brother in disbelief and you could swear your heart stopped beating. Holding your breath you blink a few times, processing the wave of shock. “What?” You exhale. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

   “We just found out recently. Charlie had tried another audience with heaven but that fucker Adam sees the hotel as a threat.”

   “Oh Husk…” you raise your hand and cover your mouth in shock, your ears planing under the surge of pity. “That’s horrible. I–I can’t believe it.” Your eyes observe your brother. He seems surprisingly calm despite the news he just revealed to you. But before you can say something he continues, “Did you know that angels can be killed?”

   “E–excuse me?” you inquire, cocking your head in surprise, your ears flicking back up into their normal position. You observe a slight but smug smile playing at the corners of his lips.

   “Ya heard me right. They can be killed. Vaggie’s out getting some angel weapons ‘cause those are supposed to be the only thing that can harm them.”

   You hum and bite your lips in fascination, then your voice drops even lower as you mumble, “Interesting…”

   “Yes, but please keep it to yourself. At least for now. I don’t wanna get in trouble for telling you this,” Husk murmurs and shoots you a pleading glance before you nod in agreement. When there is one thing you don’t want, then it is your brother getting in trouble because he told you something he isn’t supposed to. Which doesn’t mean that it would be okay for you if he gets in trouble for any other reason. You want him to be as safe as he wants you to be. You are glad he is okay, still alive and unharmed. And hopefully his condition stays the same after tomorrow.

   “What about the princess?” you ask, increasing the bite on your lip in curiosity, “Is she accompanying Vaggie?”

   Husk shakes his head. “No, she’s currently out with my boss, tryna gather some support from his acquaintances over in Cannibal Town. I’m sure she’ll return soon.”

   Your ears twitch in excitement. “Alastor’s here too?” you ask and try to hide your excitement. You know well enough about your brother's apathy for him. ‘Being done with his shit’ is how he once described it to you and you couldn’t blame him. You’d probably be sick of him too if you were on his leash. Honestly, the fact that Alastor owns your brother’s soul should be enough to despise the overlord but you couldn’t because you somehow had found yourself intrigued by him the moment you had met him for the first time. But this was not the only reason you’re surprisingly fond of him.

   You can hear Husk growl in disapproval, proving your thought. His voice is raspy and full of annoyance when he says, “You know damn well that he’s forcing me to be here. So yes, he’s obviously residing in this hotel as well. Haven’t you seen him the last time you were here?”

   You shake your head. No, you didn't. You had visited the hotel only once and that was almost half a year ago – and Alastor definitely wasn’t present that day. In fact, you hadn't seen Alastor in years, ever since he vanished from the surface, leading many to believe he didn't survive the last extermination – or that he had crossed paths with the wrong overlord by accident. You hadn't even been aware of his return until his clash with Vox dominated hell's media. Furthermore, your brother hadn't mentioned him during your last visit, which isn’t surprising, but bothers you the longer you think about it. You would’ve liked to get in touch with the Radio Demon again.  The last opportunity you might have had to encounter Alastor was at the last overlord meeting, but you had skipped it for personal reasons. But hearing that he’s residing in this hotel fills you with a jolt of anticipation that makes your heartbeat go faster. You start to wonder why he even bothers to find interest in this hotel…

   Husk shrugs his shoulders. “I think it’s better this way.”

   You hum and roll your eyes as you raise your glass to your lips, taking a few sips. Of course he would say that. “He’s not that awful, Husk,” you respond with a defensive tone, earning a low growl from your brother which you choose to ignore. “I think you can call yourself lucky that you lost your soul to him and not any other overlord.”

   You look at Husk over the rim of your glass as you take another sip, then you put it down, shrugging your shoulders at his gritted teeth.

   “Please, Y/N, don’t start this again…” He mumbles and shakes his head in disappointment. The both of you had this discussion way too often over the course of a few decades.

   “What I mean is that your situation could be worse if a different overlord held your leash. Okay, yes, he might’ve a very feared reputation and such but at least there’s something merciful about Alastor.”

   “Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” Husk asks and his eyes open wide in disbelief. He obviously can’t fathom what you just said. “He literally used to broadcast the screams of the souls he tore apart.”

   You let out a deep sigh. Of course you know about all the horrible actions that made Alastor gain his infamous reputation as The Radio Demon. But honestly, you are in hell. Is there anything else to expect? Almost every sinner is somehow a psychopath in their own way so you can’t really blame him for doing questionable things to work himself up to the top. It’s not that you’ve never done it yourself. You haven’t become an overlord by just deciding to call yourself one on a random day. You had worked hard for it, often in crucial and unfair ways, overpowering the weaker with your manipulative tactics. That is just how the food chain works in hell. And your brother was no saint either. He had dealt in souls as well, betrayed other sinners with a second deck of cards up his sleeve while he kept them believing he was an honest opponent... He had been a cheater through and through when it came to gambling and the fact that he had used his skills to trick other sinners into giving him their souls made him no better. Actually, you had laughed your brother in the face when you had found out that he, the gambling overlord and master of manipulative games, had accidentally sold his soul by messing up his cheating performance during a game of poker against The Radio Demon. You hadn't even bothered to offer him a shred of sympathy for his newly acquired role, as you found yourself relishing the karma that had struck his furry ass. The only one Husk could blame for his predicament was himself. And truth be told, you're somewhat relieved that your brother has been chained with Alastor's leash. After all, he used to be a ruthlessly manipulative and disrespectful drunkard with a self-destructive gambling addiction, who never cared for you even half as much as he does now. Since he had lost his status as an overlord he had changed become a much better person.

   Considering how much of an asshole your brother used to be, it is quite surprising that Alastor never treated him the way he supposedly treated other overlords he had tricked into a deal. To your knowledge, Alastor has never harmed or mistreated your brother in any way, nor has he wronged you.When you initially encountered The Radio Demon, he presented himself as a charming and sophisticated gentleman, with impeccable manners and a refined way of speaking. Over time, he maintained this facade, consistently treating you with the utmost respect, prompting you to wonder if it was merely a facade or if he had been raised exceptionally well by his mother. Except, of course, for his psychopathic tendencies. You and Alastor have been acquainted for at least two decades now, and from the very beginning, you found him immensely intriguing. One could even say you were drawn to his charismatic personality. He had even invited you out once, though you still keep that detail hidden from your brother. If he ever discovers that you and his boss had shared a private dinner, he'd undoubtedly throw a tantrum. Or much more. Of course, it had been nothing more than a professional meeting between the two of you…

   You take a deep breath. “Don’t act as if you had been any better, Husk,” you respond to his comment in annoyance, reminding him of his once shitty personality, and he flinches at your words. Oh yeah, Husk has always been a master at dishing out but not being able to take it on the chin… “And to be honest, I’m glad to see that you’re still alive and safe. I don’t need to hear your screams on the radio and then have nightmares about it.” You laugh dismissively at your sarcastic comment and take another sip from your drink. You notice the tension in Husk’s expression and reach out your finger, booping his nose.

   He flinches back in surprise and his stern face turns a little softer at your silly gesture. “I think I should continue my work. I feel bad that I’m sharing a drink with you while my comrades are working their asses off.”

   One sentence the old Husk would’ve never brought over his lips, you think. With one long sip you empty your glass and slide it over to Husk who places it in the sink. “Let me support you. I would’ve come days earlier if I knew that the circumstances were this bad…” you exclaim, your tone more of a demand than a request.

   Husk nods without hesitation. "Fine. We need any help we can get!”

   With that you and Husk leave the bar and approach Sir Pentious and Angel.

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   You support the three men in building defenses, laughing and chatting here and there. Time passes quickly and the other residents return from their missions.

   You turn around when you hear the door open and go straight up to the railing, looking down at the entrance right under you. You chuckle in joy as Charlie and Vaggie come into sight and you clear your throat.

   “Well, if that ain't the princess of hell and her girlfriend!” you call out and turn over to your male comrades, “Look, guys, who decided to show up!”

   Angel, Husk and Sir Pentious stop their work and step next to you, a sly smirk on Angel’s face and his hands rested on his hips. “We thought we were fightin’ by ourselves!” he lets out with a laugh.

   Charlie and Vaggie look up. “You’re… you’re still here?” Vaggie asks, her voice relieved and trembling in amazement. Tears well up in Charlie’s eyes.

. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” The princess shouts up to your floor and you shoot a grin at her, revealing your pointy fangs.

   “I’m supporting you, of course!” you exclaim in excitement and Charlie’s expression turns thankful. But before you can add something, the door opens again and a bunch of people enter, dragging huge wooden crates with warning labels in the lobby. You cock your head in amazement. Looks like they were successful in their missions…

  Vaggie immediately turns around and starts to shout clear instructions through the lobby, leaving her girlfriend behind. So you decide to head downstairs.

   “Are they all weapons?” you ask with wide eyes as you glance around, counting at least a dozen of wooden crates.

   Charlie, who you stands just a few feet away, turns around immediately and nods, her already bright face turning even brighter when her gaze falls on you.

   “Are you really here to support us?” she asks in an enthusiastic tone, forgetting your question completely. A sparkle of joy flickers in her eyes and you can’t help but smile back.

   “Well…” you take a deep breath, pondering the best way to explain your presence without it sounding wrong because you originally came here for a chat, not expecting the hotel and its residents to be preoccupied by such drastic preparations. “Honestly, I had just planned to visit my brother but now that I’ve found out about your situation I decided that you could need my help. I will fight with you all, tomorrow.”

   “Oh my god, thank you!” Charlie screams enthusiastically, raising her hand above her head before she pulls you in a tight embrace.

   You stiffen at the sudden proximity but relax after a couple of seconds, wrapping one of your arms around her shoulder. Three quick pets on the pad of her suit, then you slowly pull away. You are so focused on the princess that you don’t notice the shadow forming behind you.

   “Charlie, I didn’t know you invented a guest!” a voice, distorted by radio static, cuts through the babble in the room.

   You instinctively hold your breath and Charlie moves her head to look behind you. “Oh Alastor!” she exclaims, her arm tucking at your shoulder to signal you to turn around.

   You do as the princess silently demands and face the new arrival: a tall and slim man dressed in a red pinstripe coat, a black bowtie and black slacks. His red and black hair frames the sharp features of his handsome face, deep red eyes glowing surprise as they lock on you, his huge smile widening into a well-knowing grin that reveals his sharp yellow canines. The fluffy ears on his head twitch the same way yours do when you get excited. Is he excited to see you? Because you are definitely excited to see him…

   Charlie reaches out her hand, gesturing between you and the other demon as if she wants to introduce you to each other. “This is Y/N! She’s Husk's sister, and–.”

   A chuckle escapes Alastor’s throat. “Oh, there’s no need to introduce us, dear,” he interrupts her with a dismissive gesture of his clawed hand and approaches you. His voice turns softer, deepening in tone and the radio static is just a buzzing background noise as he mumbles, “How could I forget about such a lovely lady…?” With those words he bows his head in a classy manner and leans down to take your hand in his. With a sly smile he places a soft kiss on your knuckles, resting his lips on your skin a little longer than necessary.

  Your cheeks flush instantly at his gesture, and you find yourself locking eyes with him, meeting his crimson gaze. Your body tenses under his touch, sending shivers down your spine, and you only realize you've been holding your breath when he releases your hand and straightens his posture.

   “Alastor, long time no see,” you greet him in return, a sly smile tucked on your lips as you eye him from head to toes and back to his head. After all those years he still wears this everlasting smile on his face…

   “You… both know each other?” Charlie involves herself, interrupting the quick greeting between you and the Radio Demon.

   Alastor lets out a laugh. “Oh, Charlie… Of course we do!” he responds with a raspy voice, the radio effect on his voice increasing. Then his attention falls back on you. “You didn’t show up at the last overlord meeting, Y/N.”

   You shrug your shoulders at his indirect question. “And you didn’t show up for seven years,” you countered teasingly with raised eyebrows.

   “Touché, ma chère.”

   Charlie bites her lip and switches her gaze between the both of you, when suddenly, Vaggie calls her name and she excuses herself, leaving you and Alastor alone.

   You tilt your head to the side, now finally able to ask one of the questions that are burning on your mind for quite a while now. “So, tell me, where have you been all those years?”

   Alastor releases a chuckle and waves his hand dismissively. “This is a long story, dear…” Though his expression stays the same his eyes darken a bit as you bring up his absence. You bite yourself on the lip, feeling a surge of nervosity rise and churning your insided. Immediately understanding that this must be a difficult topic for him, you push your thoughts away, dismissing the topic.

   As fast as Alastor’s eyes darkened they return to their usual glow. He twists his cane in his hand and leans closer. “Enough about me, Y/N. May I ask what gives us the honor of your company?”

   There he is again. The witty demon you had found yourself way too fond of. You give him the same answer you gave Charlie and look around the room, scanning the tumult around you, the lobby a bit less crowded than just minutes before. Your eyes stay on a young woman in a lab coat who writes something on a clipboard, probably checkmarking all the delivered supplies and weapons.

   “Another overlord would surely be a great support,” you hear Alastor respond, interrupting your mental absence and pulling you back into reality. “Voices say that you are remarkable at fighting.”

   You close your eyes and release a chuckle before you open them again and face Alastor with raised eyebrows. His gaze lingers on yours, his smile a little softer than normally. Your stomach flutters at this sight and you turn your gaze away, sensing his eyes still staring at you. “Is that so?”

Leaning on his cane, he regards you in silence, his proximity feeling closer than before. Is that his breath you sense against your skin? You swallow hard, hesitant to direct your focus back to him. Instead, you fix your gaze on a random person in the room, feigning interest in their actions to avoid catching Alastor's attention. Although, he likely notices your avoidance regardless. He's far too skilled at discerning others' behavior to overlook such a detail.

   “Don’t play ignorant, Y/N. Everyone knows that your combat skills are as formidable as your intellect,” he suddenly interrupts the silence between you and you chuckle at his compliment.

   Satisfied by your response, Alastor tucks his cane back under his arm and places his hand on your shoulder. "I believe you'd serve as an excellent mentor for all the Cannibals outside," he says. With light pressure he turns you around to force you to look at him.

     “Uhm.. what?” you ask, way too surprised by his words to be affected by his face right in front of yours. Cannibals…?

   Alastor doesn’t respond but you could swear that his eyes shine in amusement. With a nod of his head he points in the direction where two huge double doors mark the hotel’s main entrance.

   Holding your breath you follow him towards the exit, a jumble of voices coming through the door causes your ears to perk up.

   Alastor chuckles at your reaction, obviously amused by your confusion and the closer you get to the door the louder the voices get. Alastor conjures a shadow tendril to open the door for you and you both step outside, walking side by side.

   You stop as your eyes fall on a huge crowd of pale faces with black eyes and sharp canines. “Uhm… Are those your acquaintances you were supposed to sign up for support?” you wonder, completely stunned by the amount of people Alastor and the princess had managed to gather.

   "Do you believe you could handle instructing some of them in combat?" he asks, both answering and ignoring your question at the same time. He looks down at you, though the distance between you is more appropriate than before.

   You press your lips into a straight line and tilt your head back to return his gaze, your expression clouded by overwhelm and a tad of uncertainty until it quickly switches to determination. “We’ll see,” you smirk at him.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there!

I was wondering if you had any recommendations of fics that have Aziraphale as a priest? i’m in search of some but have no idea how to find them.

only ask is that it’s 3k words and up!

Thanks so much for all you do, you are truly the foundation holding the fanfiction side of Good Omens together!

lots of love x

Hello! We have #priest Aziraphale & #priests au tags. And of course there is the priest Aziraphale tag on AO3. Here are more to add to our collection...

All The Lights That Light The Way by FeralTuxedo (E)

On the run from a disastrous work Christmas party, Anthony Crowley encounters an angel singing in the streets of Soho.

& Forgive Us Our Trespasses (Of Which The First Is Love) by ineffable_angle (M)

Fleabag-inspired AU where anthropologist Dr. Anthony J Crowley becomes friends (and then definitely more) with the hot priest Father Aziraphale Moore. They meet at their high school reunion and discover that they just can't quite stay away from one another. Mainly, they debate evolution, go to brunch, and overcome Anthony's religious trauma. Some scenes and dialogue from season 2 of Fleabag do show up, but the plot is not the exact same.

The scent of incense on his fingers by gimmewhiskey (E)

Crowley knew what was twirling on Aziraphale's tongue. “Don't even think about saying you forgive me," he whispered, then turned and strode quickly to the door. Aziraphale stared after him for a few moments longer. He slowly raised his hand and touched his lips. There was a scent of incense on his fingers. ...Or the story of how a successful lawyer Anthony J. Crowley successfully pretends to forget his old love while Father Aziraphale atones for sins for them both.

(Let's) Do it again by gagna_onni (M)

Father Fell has lived his whole life in a small town in Wales. His life is simple, the community is kind and welcoming and he does all he can to help everyone. One day a guest arrives at his clergy house. And right after his arrival, things start to change in an unexpected way.

in your own time by ineffabildaddy (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Faith, Hope, and Love (And the Greatest of These Is Love) by khh1961 (E)

A young Father Aziraphale Fell takes up his first post as a junior priest, under the stern supervision of Monsignor Gabriel (who very much likes things to run his way, thank you kindly) and meets fellow parish priest, Father Anthony Crowley. Our young Father Fell is immediately captivated by Father Crowley's handsome face, ginger hair, and dead sexy Scottish accent. This looks to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. But what else it may become remains to be seen. Love and the will of God are both ineffable.

- Mod D

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Spooky Season | Halloween Event 2024

Hidden Secrets | Joshua

🧡 Pairing: Serial Killer!Joshua Hong x Oblivious-Wife!Reader.

🖤 Requested by: anon

🧡 Prompt: 13 - There's a killer on the loose. It just so happens to be Readers loving husband.

🖤 Warnings: Murder, serial murders, 'psychopathy gene' is mentioned, there's a silly woman who thinks she can come between the couple. this is loosely based on the start of the first episode of the k-drama Mouse. Watch it if you haven't already, I loved it, especially the first half of the series.

🧡 Word Count: 1,885

🖤 Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form. Please note that the halloween event taglist is included in the general taglist.

Spooky Season 2024 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joshua stands at his front door, his face void of any emotion as he takes a moment to himself before putting on a cheerful smile and entering the home he shares with his pregnant wife.  

“Hi, honey,” he beams, wrapping her in a warm embrace and planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. “How was your day? I hope the little one didn’t give you too much trouble.” He places a hand on her belly, feeling the baby shift inside. With just three weeks to go until the due date, the little guy has been more active than ever.  

“It was good! He’s been a little angel,” she replies with a smile. “Just really active. I think he’s – did you get hurt today?” She asks noticing a red mark on his shirt collar and leans in for a closer look.  

He glances down at the spot she’s inspecting. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a little nosebleed,” he says casually, thinking to himself, ‘I did it again.’ “Really, it’s nothing to worry about,” he reassures her with a soft smile. He takes her hand, which is still on his collar, and kisses her back of her fingers softly. “I’m going to take a shower now.”  

“I’ll warm up some food for you,” she replies, her cheeks flushing from his sweet gesture. He gives her another kiss before heading to the bathroom while she moves to the kitchen.  

Once inside the bathroom, Joshua turns on the shower and removes his shirt, the small blood stain capturing his eye. Standing in front of the mirror, his thoughts drift back to earlier in the night.  

“Just a little nosebleed,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his own carelessness. He can’t get caught now, not when Y/N’s so close to having his child. The thought of what she might do, especially to his offspring, if she discovers the truth about him sends a shiver down his spine. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the TV in the living room hums softly as Y/N stirs the soup she prepared for dinner. She’s only half-listening until a breaking news alert interrupts her thoughts. Another body has been found in the nearby park.  

“Authorities have not confirmed if this murder is connected to the four serial killings that have occurred in the last three months. Residents are advised to stay safe, remain vigilant, and report any suspicious behavior.”  

Y/N’s heart races as she listens to the news. A chill runs through her, and she can’t shake the thought of moving to a safer neighborhood, not wanting to bring her child into a place where a serial killer is on the loose.  

“What are you watching?��� Joshua asks, entering the kitchen with a towel around his neck, his hair still damp from the shower. He looks relaxed, as if the weight his job doesn’t rest on his shoulders anymore. 

“They found another body,” she replies, her voice tense.  

He glances at the TV, his back to her, a sinister smile creeping onto his face as he listens to the reporter’s monotone voice go on about the very little information that they have right now. “Oh, that’s terrible,” he says, his voice filled with faux sympathy and sadness. “Maybe it’s time for us to move,” he adds, as if he can read her thoughts, turning to face her. 

Switching off the stove, she ladles some soup into a bowl for him. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. It doesn’t feel safe here anymore.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, taking the bowl from her. After grabbing some utensils, he sits at the table. “I’m working late again tomorrow but I’ll have Saturday off so we can start looking for a new house outside the area then.” 

“You’re working late again tomorrow?” she asks, her voice filled with confusion and something he hasn’t heard before, unsureness.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Do we have something planned?” 

“No,” she shakes her head. “Duri called earlier, something about needing a ride to and from work tomorrow, something about her car being serviced. She thought since you finish and start at the same time and that she lives on the way to work, that she would ask you for a ride,” she explains as she sits in the chair across from him. Y/N had been surprised when her husband’s new co-worker called their home. She was pretty sure only his superiors had their home phone number. “Apparently you were supposed to give her a ride home today but left without her.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “She never asked me for a ride home today and I will never be giving her a ride anywhere. She lives on the other side of town,” he tries to assure her but the last part is a lie. Duri lives four blocks from them. “Did she try to imply anything?” he asks his wife, wanting to know why she sounded so unsure. 

She nods. “Her whole tone was smug, like the cat that caught the canary. It just didn’t sound genuine.” 

“You trust me right,” he asks. 

She nods again, fiddling with his fingers. “Of course, I do,” she replies, but the slight tremor in her voice betrays her lingering worries. Being heavily pregnant brought about her insecurities about whether Joshua still finds her attractive and still sees her as the woman he fell in love with. It's made worse when a younger more attractive woman has her sights set on her husband and planting seeds of doubt in her mind. 

“Look, Duri, is mad that I made it known that I am a happily married man who loves his beautiful, smart and loving wife more than anything in this world," he states, his voice firm yet loving and soft. He leans closer, his gaze unwavering, as if to make sure she can see the truth in his words. “And I’m not about to risk what we have for some girl who won't take a hint and already has a boyfriend.” ‘I might be a killer but I’d never cheat on you,’ his voice echoes in his mind. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin, “You are everything to me, Y/N. No one can come between us. I want you to remember that.” 

As he speaks, he watches her expression shift, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I wasn’t doubting you,” she admits. “I’m sorry for letting my insecurities get the better of me.” 

“I’m sorry that Duri put them there,” he sighs, his voice sounding a little angry. “I’ll talks to her tomorrow and make sure she never does it again,” he continues as an image of him killing her flashes in her mind. “Until then, is there anything I can do for you.” 

“A foot massage would be nice,” she smiles. “But I’m also out of the chocolate ice cream mochi’s that I love and the convenience store that we usually go to for them is all out.”  

"Do you want me to go find you some?" he asks, finishing his soup. 

"If you don't mind," she says standing up from the chair and picks up his bowl and utensils, taking them to the sink.  

Joshua stands up, following her and takes them from his hand. "I'll go once I've finished cleaning the dishes. You go sit down, put your feet up and put something fun and happy on. I don't want you or our boy listening to talks of dead bodies and serial killers, okay?" 

Not arguing with him, she exits the kitchen and walks into the living room, leaving him to clean his dishes. She sits down on the couch and starts flicking through the channels and eventually stops on a variety show she enjoys watching. 

Once the dishes are washed, dried and put away, Joshua grabs his coat and gives Y/N a quick peck on the lips on his way out the door. On his search to chocolate ice cream mochi, he decides to take a detour, driving the few blocks to Duri’s home. He parks a street away, puts on his ball cap, making sure to hide his face and makes his way to the apartment complex his co-worker lives in with her boyfriend. 

As he approaches the building, his mind races with thoughts of his earlier conversation with Y/N. Duri had always been a pain in his side. He can't shake the feeling of irritation that bubbles beneath the surface. He’s always prided himself on being the one who can handle any situation without resorting to anger. But the idea of her planting seeds of doubt in his wife’s mind triggers a part of him that he cannot ignore. 

He steps into the lobby of the apartment complex and makes his way to the elevator, thankful for his curiosity in finding out where she lived just in case it came to this.  

The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, and he steps inside, pressing the button for Duri's floor. As the elevator ascends, he takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He thinks about his unborn child and wonders if he will turn out just like him. Will he be born with the killer instinct, the so-called “psychopathy gene” or will he be weak and easily manipulated like his mother. 

The elevator dings again, and the doors slide open on Duri's floor. Joshua steps into the dimly lit corridor, his determination solidifying as he pushes thoughts of his son and wife aside. He approaches Duri's apartment door, retrieves the hammer from his bag, and knocks firmly. As soon as the door swings open to reveal Duri, he swings the hammer, sending her stumbling backward. 

The shock on her face is almost satisfying, a fleeting moment of triumph that quickly dissipates as he steps inside, closing the door behind him with his foot before he swings the hammer, hitting her over and over again. 

It’s almost an hour later when Joshua walks back through the front door of his home. The first thing he sees as he steps into the living room is Y/N, curled up a sleep on the couch, the TV playing lowly in the background. The glow of the screen casts gentle shadows across her face, illuminating her innocence.  

He quietly moves into the kitchen, placing the chocolate ice cream mochi in the freezer and walks back to his wife. Crouching down beside her, he gently places his hand on her belly, once again feeling his son moving around inside her. 

Y/N stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she begins to wake. He forces a smile once again. “Hey, love,” he whispers, his voice soft and loving. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ll be more comfortable there.”  

“Did you find the mochi ice cream?” she asks as he helps her up from the couch and guides her to their bedroom. 

“It took me an hour but it’s in the freezer, ready for you to eat tomorrow,” he tells her, helping her into bed. 

She smiles, her eyes closing as soon as her head hits the pillow, heavy with sleep. “I love you.” 

He kisses her forehead, “I love you, too.” 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

@rainydayteacups - @staytiny2000 - @forever-atiny - @shuaserendipity95 - @do-you-remember-summer-127

@catzachvsvt - @lemur46 - @ateez-atiny380 - @lovrehani - @lixisoul99

@satoruifys

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Polishing

Author’s note: More of Titus in Blueberry Pie

Summary: Titus requests that you help tend to his armor.

Warnings: none? Let me know if I need to add anything

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Titus had found that one serf who had gained the eye of a couple of his younger brothers, who were being… a bit unprofessional. One was being mischievous and needling the more easily provoked brother. Who is falling for the lure and bait, hook, line, and sinker.

Titus shakes his head with a sigh and a huff of laughter, he remembers the pair of bratty little brothers back when they were merely battle brothers- before they had attained their lofty ranks. The younger of the two squabbling brothers knew how much ‘improper’ speech could bother the hell out of the Noble born Ultramarines, and did it anyway.

It’s good- to try to find ways to humble some of the more… elitist brothers, drag them back into the soil and mud. Kept their egos in check, so long as it didn’t go too far, things going too far hasn’t happened in a while, but he’s monitoring that situation, just in case.

It’s good that more of Ventris’s personality is coming back out, as much as it’s sometimes aggravating. The poor younger brother had been tortured by a faction of the Inquisition, Titus grimaces to himself, he knows first hand how miserable that experience can be.

He spots you and calls out, “Miss Serf?”

You turn and look over at him, bowing politely and asking, “How may I serve you, My Lord?”

“I need help cleaning and tending to my armor,” Titus says, “Come with me.”

“Yes Lord Angel,” You reply

You had heard that Lord Demetrian Titus was known for being polite and soft spoken. Resolute and dauntless, caring and concerned for the baseline folk. Something that cannot be said for all Lord Angels, or so you have been told by some of the older, more experienced Serfs.

You help him take off his armor- which is incredibly heavy, he helps you shift the pieces of armor too heavy for you to carry to be carefully placed where he wants it to be cleaned. Once the Armor is off you try not to fluster.

The black carapace that is void-capable adheres to Lord Astarte bodies like a second skin. Then you try not to cough as your eye water, you have also been warned that the … ripe scent of a Lord Angel who’s been on campaign, and unable to be out of armor for weeks or months at a time can be quite… pungent.

“I am glad of the communal baths,” Titus says with a self-deprecating smile, “It helps with washing the mud of battle off one’s skin.”

“As you say, Lord Titus,” You say your cheeks are still pink and your eyes water a little bit.

“Stay here and clean my armor, I shall be back in a few moments,” Lord Titus says as he heads off to have a luxurious bath in the Astartes bathing area- joining a mixed group of battle brothers and officers.

While he relaxes in the baths, talking and listening to his brother talk about the battles they’ve recently fought, and some of the best currency they have gossip. Titus hears the story of how Sicarius- as a Sargent, The Chapter Master, The Head Librarian, and another brother, basically ruined an entire space marine’s career.

No one knows the reasons, official or otherwise for the reason they had done so, but it was good gossip to have- and a reminder of the power that their Chapter Master held, not just the martial power, but the soft power as well.

Part of Titus wondered if he should ask Cato his side of that particular story, and if the younger Space marine will tell him or not. Even odds- Cato is usually proud of his accomplishments, as well as helping their Chapter Master do Things.

While that was going on, you were carefully cleaning, scrubbing and polishing Lord Titus’s armor. The brackish, awful smelling armor slowly becomes that noble hue of blue and gold. You clean and replace the cloth and bucket of cleaning solution and water as needed.

By the time all of the armor is properly cleaned and polished, your arms are sore from carefully heaving the heavier parts of armor around to ensure that it’s properly cleaned on both sides. That the leather-mixture, whatever it was on the inside of the armor is also properly cleaned and taken care of.

“Thank you for getting my armor done,” Titus thanks you.

You jump a little, startled, Lord Angels are surprisingly light on their feet and silent out of armor.

“You are welcome, Lord Angel,” You reply, now that the smell of mud, blood, and battle was off of him, your cheeks flush a little as you try not to… eye the Lord Angel inappropriately. 

He gives you a small smile and a gentle nod as he releases you from the task of trying to put the armor away properly. Which he does easily, he dismisses you and you bow to him and head out to return to your previous duties.

[somehow-a-human]

The angels don't have to ask to enter the bookshop.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY.

We've been operating under the assumption that BOTH the angels and demons have to ask to enter the bookshop, but I don't think that's true. I'm pretty sure it's one of our red herrings for season 2.

Continued under the cut.

When Gabriel shows up to the bookshop nude and oblivious, the doors are closed and (I believe) locked. Gabriel doesn't even know who or where he is, so he does what the default is... he knocks, and asks "Can I come in?" Aziraphale is frightened at first and tells him he can't come in but eventually our angels empathy wins and he says "Alright! Just... just get in!"

>> It's never clear that Gabriel would have physically been unable to come in otherwise.

When the Archangels show up Aziraphale literally cuts them off before they reach the door of the bookshop. Saraqael suggests, "Shall we discuss this inside?", and Aziraphale continues, "By all means. Would you like to come in?"

>> If Aziraphale hadn't rushed out to meet the angels, why wouldn't they have just walked into the bookshop like they did numerous times in season 1? Additionally I am fairly certain Aziraphale's "By all means. Would you like to come in?" was added in post via ADR. That doesn't necessarily add credence to anything, just an observation.

When Muriel arrives to surveil Aziraphale they ask, "Great! Well, could I come in and do it inside please? Only cause it's really noisy out here and I can't hear anything." Aziraphale replies, "By all means."

>> Muriel is an endearing angel who doesn't know much about life on earth, but had the shop been open and unlocked at the time of their arrival, they might've just wandered in as well.

We're never told the angels *can't* enter the bookshop explicitly like we are for the demons. We've always just assumed the same rules apply to all of the ethereal and occult beings.

But then, might I ask, why does Aziraphale tell us "Technically, this bookshop still counts as an Embassy"?

If the bookshop is still an embassy, the angels wouldn't need permission to enter, they would still have jurisdiction, and would still be able to monitor what's going on there... yes?

Let's compare this to the demons attempts to enter the bookshop, because Shax states clearly that she can't enter without permission. We see this again when she tries to get into the Bentley after it's canonically 'our car', and therefore at least partially owned by an angel.

I'm pretty sure John and Neil make a point of having the angels all ask in some way to enter, and Aziraphale seem to grant them permission as a red herring. They don't need to, but they want us to assume a false sense of security, to think that the bookshop is a safe space for our duo, outside of the reaches of both Heaven and Hell.

Technicalities are big in season 2 and I definitely think they're a huge underlying string running through all of Good Omens. In season 1, Crowley and Aziraphale stop Heaven and Hell from trying to restart Armageddon on a technicality. Gabriel and Beelzebub don't technically know if the great plan *is* the ineffable plan! It's definitely a favorite trope of Terry and Neil's to mock unfair, broken, bureaucratic systems, and Heaven and Hell are a PERFECT example of this.

**Somebody has written a meta on technicalities, I know I've seen it but I cannot for the life of me find it so if anyone could tag me so I could link it that would be brills! (Yeah that's right I'm adopting that from Charles from Dead Boy Detectives, 80's british slang ftw, I'm obsessed; please watch it, please, I need a second season.)

Neil has mentioned that the plot for season 3 might've had to be changed from he and Terry's original vision a bit, based on the political climate of the current day, and I'm sure that means we'll see some technicalities being the downfall of Heaven and Hells systems in Season 3 as well. I don't think the metatron is a villain, nor any of the other angels or demons. They're just fulfilling their function, following a set of rules, very much to a fault. This is all just God's big experiment after all, freewill, choice, eating the apple, and the angels and demons aren't exempt.

I wouldn't be surprised if there's some sort of technicality about the angels and demons themselves in season 3. We've seen that they're of the same stock, and we know Crowley at least is technically still the same person he was when he was an angel... more or less. Could the book of life end up revealing something like that the demons still exist perpetually as their angelsonas? A technicality, if you will?

Given the bookshop is still technically an embassy, is everything that happens inside observable by Heaven? Can they access the bookshop in their Earth Observation Files? There is some questionable blocking surrounding the bust in Aziraphale's bookshop, coupled with a curious record cover from Maggie's bookshop pointed out by @noneorother

Anyway... Let me know your thoughts. I haven't been posting as much, I have been mega busy and I'm trying to be thankful for it. Love you all, hope you have something nice happen for you today! <3

[luciferlightbringer]

Talk to Me

Chapter 1

Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader

Word Count:4.1 k

CW: Angst, abuse, lies, slowburn,

Chapter 1|Chapter 2 (Updated through Chapter 5)

Welcome back friends! I will be tagging all chapters now under #punching-pentagrams if the tags ever have issues or if you are looking for updates from me 😊

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a troublemaker with “fantastical ideas” for all of creation, and was seen as such by the elders of Heaven. For they knew his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he was to watch as the other angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam worked to take charge over his responsibility to care for Earth, and Lilith refused to work alongside him. She fled the Garden. Drawn in by her rebellious nature, Lucifer found her and troublemaker seduced her to his cause. Together, they wished to the ruin the future of humanity with their selfish dreams and ideas, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who accepted, unaware that this “gift” came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his mistress into the dark pit he had created, to live out his days as the King of the cruel and the wicked.

This was the Parable of Lucifer, known by every Angel in Heaven, memorized, but rarely spoken. His name, or even the threat of falling was akin to swearing, which wasn't forbidden but it was frowned upon. For many eons, his name was rarely mentioned. That is, until the morning his daughter came to visit Heaven.

You watched that morning as Emily, the young seraphim you served under, danced around her room as she got ready that morning, singing and flitting about while talking about how excited she was to be at the the side of Sera, the High Seraphim, later at a meeting with the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

You listened and nodded at her excitement, trying hard to keep your own thoughts to yourself. You didn't understand how she could be so excited, being in the room with anyone related to Lucifer sounded like a fate worse than death. You were not important enough to be in the room where it all was going to go down, and you were perfectly ok with that.

"And then! Oh! What about the zoo?! Do you think they have zoos in hell? Maybe we have different animals.... Oh I'll just ask them!" Emily squealed with excitement as she brushed her hair.

You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes, why would some hellspawn want anything to do with a heaven zoo? And why did Emily insist on showing them around? It almost seemed cruel to show them around something more wonderful and beautiful than they probably had back home in their dark pit of evil. But it couldn't be helped, that is just who Emily was. Kind and full of desire to make people happy.

You were a "right hand man" of sorts to Emily, a sort of "lady in waiting" or "aid", and had been ever since the beginning of her time as the Seraphim of Joy. You enjoyed a higher status, that was marked by your four wings, but not as many as Emily's six, which marker he status as a seraphim. You liked being by her side, she was sweet and playful. It was her job to keep the people of Heaven happy, and it was your job to assist her in that. She was gentle and kind, and that made your job easy. She treated you as an equal, even if she didn't need to, you were happy to serve her.

"Sounds great, my lady, I hope you guys have fun," you say trying to hold back any sass you wanted to add to your comment in response to the idea of her field trip with the Princess of Hell.

Emily looked at you with a smile, "Oh! You're coming with us, of course. Aren't you?"

You held a strained smile, of course she would want to include you.

"Oh... I wish I could. But I can't I have plans," you responded coolly.

"Plans? Like what?" Emily pouted.

"Well... there uhhh... there is the updates to the Golden Girls theme park! Now that Betty is here, I figured it was important to meet with her and make sure it is correct...ya know... get her ideas..." you start.

Emily floats over and grabs your hands, "Oh but that can wait, can't it? Pleeeeease? This is so exciting and I want my best friend their with me!" She gave you big puppy dog eyes.

You can't help but feel a little shy when she calls you her best friend, you were honored that she thought of you as a friend, but you knew that was not your place, even though you had been by her side for several thousand years. It wasn't forbidden for you two to be friends, just... discouraged. Due to the difference in status. You sighed, she knew you couldn't say no to her when she got all pouty and pulled the "best friend" card.

"Alright, alright! I'll go... Just... Please don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with them? I mean no disrespect, my lady... The idea of having beings of Hell in Heaven just... makes me nervous..." you nervously confess to Emily.

Emily smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "Yay! Oh (y/n), it's going to be ok! How about this? If you get uncomfortable, you can flap your wings quickly twice and I'll give you a reason to leave, ok?"

"But won't that leave you alone with them? What if they should try to harm you?" you say with worry in your voice.

Emily squeezes your shoulders, "It will be fine. Come on! We are gonna be late!" Emily grabs your hand and she half drags you out the door and out the the main plaza to meet up with Sera before going to welcome the guests from hell. You bow respectfully to Sera in greeting and wait as Emily and Sera fly out to the front gate while you wait inside with Sera's aid, Lily, who also had four wings like you. You rarely talked to Lily, but she was also nice, more serious like her seraphim she served.

"How is your lady feeling about the meeting?" Lily asked calmly, looking forward instead of at you.

"Very excitedly, as is her nature. Almost a little too excited, but that is not my place to tell her, of course. And what of your lady?" You asked Lily.

She shook her head, "Nervous, but collected. She was very distressed by Lucifer's request for his daughter to meet with the council of Elders. Her ideas sound... preposterous, and dangerous. Just like her father's," she responded flatly, her nose crinkling slightly.

"What ideas?" you ask.

Lily looked around for any nearby souls before leaning close and whisper, "Something about trying to redeem souls to get them to give them a second change in heaven."

You blinked, what? She is trying to redeem the souls of sinners? "Is that even possible?"

Lily shrugged, "It is not our place to ask such things, besides, we have no idea why they would want to try that. It sounds fishy to me, and I think it sounds fishy to Sera, too. We have a system in place for a reason."

"Of course, that does seem silly to try to change things," you go back to your neutral stance and start to think. The daughter of Lucifer wants to redeem souls? Why? That seems like a good thing to try to do? But how could they prove they were actually "redeemed" to even attempt something like that. As far as you knew, this had never been done before. This thought left you with so many questions, that from that point on would start to unravel your very understanding of everything you thought you knew.

Eventually you see the gates open and Sera and Emily enter with two others, a girl with long white hair, wearing an eye patch, named Vaggie, and a young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a red suit, who was introduced to you as Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. You wanted to focus on the Morningstar child but... something about the other one seemed off about the other one, especially in the way she looked at all of you. Specifically she looked... uncomfortable? That seemed like such an odd way to react to Heaven. But maybe a place this beautiful was just hard for a demon like her to feel comfortable in. A pity.

You shifted your attention back to Charlie, you were only briefly introduced as Emily's aid, she greeted you warmly and then went back to talking with Emily and Sera. You liked it this way, it gave you a chance to just watch this daughter of Lucifer at a distance. As you toured Heaven with them, you were surprise by how sweet and bubbly she came off. She talked, mostly with Emily, about how excited she was about the meeting and looked in awe at everything she came across in Heaven. Your face remained a pleasant neutral, but you were processing everything through the lens of what you had been told about Lucifer and the information given to you by Lily about her reason for being here. What was her deal?

Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie were set up in their room, and Vaggie decided to stay at the hotel while Charlie went off with you and Emily to the zoo, and Sera and Lily went off to prepare for the meeting. Great... now there was more of a chance that you would have to interact with the Morningstar child, but you were good at remaining pleasant and neutral. You stayed to Emily's right while Charlie walked on Emily's left as they went through the zoo. Luckily, the Princess of Hell was more interested in fawning over the animals than paying attention to how little you were interacting with her. You exchanged some pleasantries and small talk when addressed, but not much beyond that.

The longer you were around her, the more curious she made you. She didn't act at all like how you expected a hellspawn would act. You know you shouldn't be making assumptions but... something was not adding up. How could this be the spawn of the most hated and dangerous being in all of creation? Either she was a very very very good actor, spinning colorful and exciting tales to disarm her victims and seduce them to her side... or somehow... despite having such an awful and cruel creature of a father... this young woman had an actual passion and love for others. You were worried at how much you felt like you wanted to agree with the latter, especially with how in-sync her personality fell with Emily's. You tried to shake the questions out of your head, again it was not your place to ask such questions.

Before long, it was time for their meeting with the angelic Council of Elders, which meant it was your time to separate from Emily and the Princess. You bid them a farewell and went off to take care of that meeting with Betty White to make any additions or suggestions to the theme park. You had a pleasant meeting with her, luckily there were only a few additions that needed to be made, so you were able make note of them with the construction team and get back to Emily's suite to prepare her some tea for her when her meeting was over.

Before long you heard the quick open and shut of the door, signaling that Emily had returned home, "Welcome back, my lady Emily! How was..." you stopped as you heard the sounds of... something you had never heard before... little sounds in quick secession that would get quieter, she'd breathe in, and then the quick secession of sounds would happen again, but starting louder and growing softer.

You peaked out around the corner to see Emily curled up on the floor right next to the door, face in her hands, making her little sounds. You had heard about this, was... was she... crying? She had never seen anyone cry before. You rushed over to her side.

"My lady? Emily? What's wrong? Why do you cry?" you asked with a slight panic, you had not idea how to help her with this, you had never seen someone sad before.

She let out different higher pitched sound and shook before she looked up at you, tears rolling down her round cheeks.

"Oh (y/n), it's terrible! I'm so angry!" Emily cried.

"What's terrible? What did the Princess do? Are you hurt?" you start to look her over.

"No!" Emily cried, "It's Sera, and Adam, and Lute... They have done something terrible!"

You blinked, you had never heard her speak of her superior sister like that, and you new the First Man to be... a colorful character, but what could he have done? "What happened?"

Emily took a few breathes before looking up at you, "They have been allowing a yearly extermination on human souls in Hell to control the overpopulation down there... Adam has an army of angels that go down with him to kill and erase human souls!"

You sat back a little, taking in the news, "Wait... why... That does not make any sense... why would they do something like that?"

Emily let more tears fall, "It's how they control the overpopulation of souls, trying to keep them from thinking about uprising against Heaven... that's why Charlie was here. She's trying to redeem souls into heaven so that we would stop killing them. She-she's just trying to protect her people, and we have just been slaughtering them! For... centuries!"

You sat in silence as Emily continued to freak out and cry, this was the worst thing you had ever heard of. How could heaven allow something like this?! Sure, the sinners had all earned their place in Hell, and they needed to stay in their place... but the does not mean anyone should be erasing them!

"Who could have allowed this?" you ask quietly.

"Sera..." Emily snarled, you look up at her, and she looks at you... with anger in her eyes, it made you jump, "Sera allowed this it happen, and what's worse... she kept it from everyone! From the rest of the Elders... from me... Only Sera, Adam, and his army of angel exorcists know... The rest of us were in the dark..."

You just sat there on the floor next to her, trying to breathe, trying to work through the thoughts and feelings in your body, this was bad... this was... really bad. You never knew this try of bad could exist, not here, not in Heaven, and you felt it all over your body. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts were racing, everything was a blur.

You looked at the young angel next to you, "What do we do now, my lady?"

Emily's expression went serious and she sat up straight looking at you, "This can't be a secret anymore, we must tell everyone."

Your eyes widened, "E-everyone? Even the human souls? My lady... I don't know if..."

Emily got up, "Yes! Everyone! They have been keeping this secret from everyone! They are breaking one of God's base commandments! Now that we know we must tell the truth! Everyone must know!"

You get up to meet her, "But... that would cause an upheaval! What if..." you change to a whisper "What if this causes you to fall? Like Lucifer?"

Emily shook her head, "If something like this is what caused his fall... then maybe there is more behind his fall than they told us in the first place..." She looked at you, "After hearing Charlie... it's worth the risk... I need to do this. Are you with me, or not?" Emily grabbed your hands.

You froze in place. Do you defy Emily, your seraphim that you are sworn to serve and support? Or do you go against something that you know will make the elders unhappy, and risk both you and her falling? You knew this look on her face, there was not talking her out of it at this point.

You sigh, "Ok... I'm with you." She smiled and hugged you, and you hugged her back. You had not idea what was going to happen next, but you couldn't bear the thought of not supporting her. It's all you knew.

You spent the rest of the night planning with Emily on how you were going to get the word out to the people. Unfortunately for the both of you... Sera had been worried about Emily's outburst in support of Charlie and went to go check on her. Emily was not watching her volume, no matter how much you reminded her, so before knocking, she was able to hear Emily talking out some ideas out with you. With a heavy and broken heart, Sera went to go alert the rest of the Elders.

The next morning, you and Emily did not have a chance to start telling anyone before Emily was brought to stand trial before the Council of Elders. You were brought with to stand witness for the conversation you had with her. Emily fought and cried, angry tears running down her face as she pleaded for the safety and protection of the people of Hell, quoting how the Elders were breaking commandments. The Elders responded of how they were doing what they needed to do to maintain the order in Heaven, and Emily teared back about how they were only proving Charlie's point about "angel's getting to do whatever and remain in the sky" while the people of hell suffered by Heaven's hand. Sera warned Emily not to press but she didn't care, saying if this was the truth that she no longer wanted to be the Seraphim of Joy.

"If you don't stop this now, you may soon not be a seraphim at all!" one of the Elders warned.

Adam sat over on the side, grinning. He was quieter than yesterday, he was trying to play nice after his major slip up the day before when he revealed the existence of the exterminations, but he was still enjoying watching the drama. Sera looked over to you, eyes pleading with do something to stop this. You looked over at Emily. There was only one way you could see getting her out of this, it wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was all you could do.

You stood up and looked over to the council, starting to cry and shake, "I'm sorry! I'm so... so sorry, my great Elders!" You whole room was looking at your now, even Emily.

"Please... please do not blame her! It was my fault! I... I was so excited to see the Princess of Hell, know why she was here. I know I wasn't allowed at the meeting... but I still stood outside of the door and listened! I couldn't bear the news! I've gone mad! Emily came back and didn't want to talk about it... but I did! I made her! I filled her head with ideas of telling the people of Heaven the truth! The angels deserve to know! It's barbaric! All of you refused to listen to Charlie and I can't stand that!" you say grabbing your hair. "Please! Emily is innocent of everything besides being to close to me! Please spare her! Punish me instead!"

"(y/n) what are you doing?!" Emily cried.

"I'm telling them the truth, my lady! Don't try to cover this up for me. You've suffered enough!" you cried, flying down to the floor and standing in front of Emily, fanning out your wings to block her, "Punish me instead! I should fall for my madness! My lady Emily has done nothing wrong! Punish me for my sympathy for Lucifer and his daughter!"

Sera frowned, looked at the others, and shook her head, "What a shame, but not unexpected from you, unfortunately." That comment almost made you flinch, what did that mean? Sera looked to the others, who all nodded at her and looked at you with distain.

"Very well," she said, lifting a hand to prompt two other angels to remove Emily from the floor, leaving only you in the middle, all eyes on you. "(y/n), for your attempt of treason against Heaven and attempted corruption of a seraphim, you have fallen from Grace and will be cast into Hell."

You give Emily one last look as she screams, whispering a goodbye to her. A portal opens up in front of you, giving you a clear but distant view of the rings of hell. Intense fear flooded your body for the first time. You take a step back, only to be stopped by Adam who had flown over an landed behind you, a wicked grin on his face.

Behind you he whispered "See you on extermination day", before breaking off one of your wings and kicking you into the pit, the sound of your screams of pain mixed with his laughter as you began to fall.

What an absolute piece of shit.

Most of your fall was spent in searing pain from your one missing wing, the other three fluttering in the wind as hell grew closer, golden blood oozing from your new wound, your first wound ever. You cried the whole way... out of pain, out of fear, out of hope that you saved Emily from this fate, out of confusion...

As you got closer, you felt more pain sear through your body, but for a different reason. You watched as you hands stared to turn into black claws, horns sprouted from your temples, a tail lashed out behind you, eyes watering as they changed to red, some of the feathers of your wings burned red. More tears burned down your cheeks as you fell, mixing in with some feelings of... anger? You wish that Emily had not dragged you into this... but it was your job to serve her... and you did it until your falling day... Who knew what awaited you in hell. The second fallen angel in all of history...

You realized then, yes, would would be the second fallen angel, would Lucifer seek you out if he found out another angel had fallen? You wanted to avoid that at all costs. As the ground grew nearer, you knew you had two choices, use your wings to ease your fall and risk being seen, or tuck them away and have a much harder hit but hide your identity as an angel. You swallowed hard as you forced your wings to tuck away. It was something angels could do, but it was not common, as it was more comfortable to keep them out.

You were almost to the red floor of the Pride Ring. God Above, this was going to hurt... You braced yourself as you plummeted into the hard rock of the upper part of the ring, making a small intend in the ground from the length and power of your fall. Your body seared with more intense pain, bones were definitely broken, but by some grace you were still barely conscious.

After catching some amount of breath, you looked around. With as much information as you could process at the moment, it looked like you had landed on some old battle ground near the edge of the ring. At least some luck was still on your side. With one good arm and leg, you clawed and crawled your way across the red brimstone ground, leaving a trail of golden blood, before finding a pile of stones that were set in just a way that you could hide. Probably something someone had built for cover at some point.

With the last of your energy, you crawled into the hole, took off your robe, and stuffed it under your head as your felt yourself suck into unconsciousness.

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Hello! Just wanted to let everyone know that this one will have less of a back and forth between Lucifer and y/n's point of view, it will still have that, but it will be a lot more focused on y/n until they meet. Also it might take a little before they meet, but we will get there! Let me know if you want added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@sapphireravensworld @cimadreamer @froggybich @randomstranger703 @tiredlillypad @melday0105 @btsgangleader @hawke1917 @gbshdhd @pandaquick @littleladydemon @wonderlandangelsposts @hulyenl @willow404

[selfishmachinez]

this request was inspired by someone else who wrote it with Adam but idk I can’t find the post I think they may have deleted it or smthn😔

anyway- reader x Lucifer , Adam, and mammon (romantic, seperately) who plays that “best brother ever ” prank on them in public? i just think it’s really funny😭 if you don’t know what I’m talking about this is what I mean: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLevxYyu/

"BEST BROTHER EVER"

notes: STOPP I SAW THIS ITS SO FUNNY😭 this trend kills me everytime omg

also hours after posting this i realised it was flopping cause i didnt add any tags someone bury me😔

warnings: adam and mammon being themselves (assholes😇); mammon being a bitch (kinda nsfw for him? idk you'll be the judge of that); not proofread

word count: 339

ACTUAL POST UNDER CUT

Lucifer 🍎 —

okay so for all 3 lets say your relationship isnt out to the public yet, but people just kinda figured it out already

poor baby was so clueless😭

i dont think hes very up to date with pranks/trends/all that

THOUGHT YOU WERE FRIENDZONING HIM FOR A SECOND????

"well youre not an angel NOT LIKE THAT youre TECHNICALLY not an angel so we cant really be,, siblings,, BUT im glad you think of me like that i just thought we had more going on???"

if you keep the prank going he'll gen be hurt

you had to sit down and explain the joke to him

all you got out of him was a nervous chuckle and a "oooohhhhhhh..."

give my man some time ok hes old as hell (pun intended) 🧍‍♀️

Adam 🪽 —

first of all how DARE you

hes usually the one pulling the pranks on you

bro was flabbergasted 😭

he gives you that stare he gave lucifer after he said "and now i am going to FUCK you >:)"

second of all he kissed you back ok but when you said THAT???

IN FRONT OF EVERYONE????

"dont say that, you crazy bitch."

"i love you big bro, cmon."

he pushed you after that one ok🥰

after you tell him you were jk he was like "fuck was that for??? you wanna ruin MY reputation???? do you know who i am" bla bla bla

hes not gen mad just a little pissed at best

Mammon 🃏 —

"what?????"

"youre the best big bro ever!"

his reaction is fairly close to adam's imo

except hes not mad and actually plays along

"you into that stupid ass roleplay thingy now, eh?"

shit got heated for a second😨

"nononono ITS A PRANK ITS A PRANK"

"is it now?"

had you genuinely panic

that horny bastard istg!!!!!!!

he saw the trend already so he knows youre just playing

the kiss kinda threw him off tbh, he didnt want your relationship being public yet (cause he outed asmodeus and fizz and didnt wanna be seen as a hypocrite etc)