#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.

[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.

_____________________________________________________________

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)

[zepskies]

Being Human – Part 1

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: This is technically my first Dark Angel story, since I wrote Part 1 of this before "Bullseye." It will be four parts. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Summary: You’ve managed to keep things playful and friendly with Alec so far, despite his flirtatious nature. But when he asks you for a favor that goes painfully awry, the transgenic has to figure out something that wasn’t in his training: how to apologize. [Set during 2.06]

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Tension, angst, spiciness, implied smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: Training Day

As sad as it is, this is probably your favorite place in the world.

Crash is as divey as a dive bar can get. And yet, it still boasts the strongest, cheapest drinks in Seattle. The music is decent, and the company is good. At least tonight it is, because you’ve met up with Max, Original Cindy, and Sketchy after a long day of slinging packages.

The only problem?

The newest member of Jam Pony, slinking up from the corner of your eye and easing into the seat next to you at the bar.

You turn an expectant gaze to Alec McDowell and his flirtatious green eyes. They take in your jeans and halter top with an obvious perusal. 

“Can I help you?” you ask dryly.

“No, no. It’s what I can do for you,” he replies. You’re about to roll your eyes when he adds, “Let me buy you a beer. Or whatever you’re drinking.”

Just then, the bartender slides you the beer you’ve already ordered. You thank him and give Alec a smile.

“Got it covered, thanks,” you reply, sipping the froth off your drink.

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you retort. Glancing around the bar, you note three other girls you’ve already seen him shoot his shot with tonight.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. Your face warms at his proximity.

Damn, he smells good, you think.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

His smile makes your heart beat faster, though you eye him wryly. He opens his smartass mouth to say something else, but you get a reprieve when Original Cindy slides into the seat on your other side. She tosses you a wink.

It gives you just enough confidence to smirk in Alec’s face.

“Keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll lose my mind,” you say, with a teasing raise of brows.

Alec is still amused as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. Insulting, yet, still somehow endearing.”

“Don’t wanna get clowned, don’t act like a clown,” you tell him sweetly. 

“I know that’s right,” Cindy quips. She orders a Cosmo to upgrade her beer. She must’ve won a bet tonight, if she was able to score enough cash for liquor.

“Hilarious,” Alec says. He pouts a little. “Hey, I’m not some mongrel on the loose. I’m just looking for some honest companionship.”

“Honest?” you laugh. “Now that’s hilarious.”

He gives you a fake laugh, but he watches you go when you slip away from him to join Max and Sketchy in the back room by the pool table. Alec’s smile fades a little.

Cindy raises a brow at him, along with a tan finger.

“No,” she says. “You actually crushin’ on homegirl? For real?”

Alec glances at her. “Where’d you get that idea?”

She gives him a flat look.

“Should I burn some sage?” she asks.

Alec shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Come on. I think Max is calling us over.”

When the two of them venture over to where you and Max are playing a game of pool, Alec’s cocky smile is back. His eyes catch yours when he sits down at a nearby table. Your lips curve while you lean on your pool cue.

For the past few weeks, this is how it’s always been with you and Alec. Push and pull. A sort of caustic flirtation that you can’t in good conscience take seriously. But to his credit, he always tries.

And he seems to always mean it. 

You’ll never admit it, but it’s getting harder and harder for you to resist the pull of him. He’s clearly a guy who doesn’t do attachments, and you have a bad habit of getting attached. Your life is hard enough without adding a dash of heartbreak into the mix.

So Max helps you sharpen your skills at this game while you finish your beer. And…maybe you “unintentionally” tease Alec a little with the curve of your ass when you’re bent over the table, lining up a shot.

In fairness, you’re a bit tipsy.

You spend the rest of the night drinking two more beers and laughing and losing the game—first to Max, then to Alec, and finally to Sketchy. By then, you know it’s time to cut your losses.

You haul your backpack onto your shoulder and start to head out of the bar. But who should slip into your way than Alec freakin’ McDowell?

“Hey, I’ve got a quick question for you,” he says.

You sigh. “Alec, the usual sniping was fun, but I’m tired and I want to go home.”

He stops you with a touch on your arm. He seems slightly more serious.

“It’s a favor,” he says, pulling out a small rectangular package wrapped in plain brown paper. You look down at it in confusion.

“I saw on the work chart that you’re scheduled to go over to Sector 4 tomorrow,” he says. “Would you mind delivering this for me?”

Your brows raise at him. He raises $20 in front of your face.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he smiles.

You take the $20 and the package, though you’re still a little uncertain.

“What’s in it?”

Alec leans in close to your ear. “I’ll give you an extra $10 if you don’t ask.”

His voice washes over you and makes your skin prickle. You’re blushing, but your eyes narrow at him further.

“Make it $20,” you counter.

He scoffs. Though after a moment…he coughs up the extra cash.

“The most expensive damn delivery I’ve never made,” he mutters.

You have to crane your neck a bit, as he stands over a head taller than you, but you smile up at him brightly.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you say.

For him, maybe the expense was worth it to get that smile.

You pull up on your bike to what you think is the right address. You don’t usually come to this side of town, even in Sector 4.

It feels a bit like a shanty town and a meat packing district all at once—complete with dodgy-looking street vendors and unmarked vans loading and unloading cargo behind them. 

“Can I help you, little girl?”

You stifle a gasp as your path is suddenly obstructed. A black man and his two white friends have crowded around your bike, but they don’t look normal. Various metal spikes and prods protrude from their faces, neck, and body, but they’re not your typical piercings. The metal is fused into their skin.

Oh shit, you think, as your heartrate picks up. Steelheads.

“I’m just making a delivery,” you tell them. Your eyes dart to your surroundings, trying to catch anyone’s gaze for a little help.

But in big cities like this, everyone knows to keep their eyes down.

Don’t look, don’t tell. Don’t get any trouble.

“I think you might be lost, love,” says one of the other men. He’s British, by the sound of his accent, and is the taller of the two. His skin is pale, though there’s a red ring under his eyes that suggests drugs, or whatever else these three are injecting into themselves.

“Uhh, yeah. I must be. I’ll just go,” you nod, and you start to back up. The ringleader Brit clamps a bony hand on your bike to stop you. He grabs the scrap of paper Alec gave you, which holds the address for your intended delivery.

The Steelhead examines it lazily, before his gaze flicks back up to yours.

“Well, well. I stand corrected,” he says. He gestures to the small package in your hands. “What’s in it?”

You shrug and try to play off your ignorance. Because the truth is, you have no idea.

“It’s not my job to know,” you reply.

“Ah, but you see, it’s our business to know,” the Brit says, leaning in towards you. You lean back with pursed lips.

“This is our little piece of paradise,” says the shortest one. His lips are damn near purple.

“We’re what you call…territorial,” says the leader. He grabs you off your bike while the first man takes the package from you.

“Hey, I don’t want any trouble,” you say, though you hate the way your voice shakes. “I can just go—”

“Oh, we’ll let you go, little mouse. You’re gonna give a message back to sender,” the Brit says. “But first, a reminder.”

He shoves you back into the nearest wall. It’s solid brick that stuns a gasp out of you. He presses in on you, grabbing your face and dragging a sharp, unnaturally long nail against your cheek, biting into the skin.

It’s painful enough to make you whimper as you feel wetness drip down to your neck. His friends laugh at your discomfort, at your fear. You’re too frozen to reach for the pepper spray in your pocket…

“What’s going on here?” another man asks. Out of the corner of your eye you spot a black uniform. For the first time in your life, you’re grateful to see a cop.

The Steelhead releases you, and the three of them are subtle in the way they back off from you.

“Nothing here, officer,” the leader says. Though he gives you a smirk. “Just accepting a delivery.”

You let them keep the package and pretend that a signature has made it onto your clipboard. You climb back onto your bike and you leave Sector 4 without looking back. All the while, your arms shake and you wipe at the blur of tears in your eyes.

When you get back to the Jam Pony base of operations (a warehouse that feels like a basement), you park your bike out front and head inside.

Your legs still feel precarious. And even though the blood is dry against the cut on your cheek, you know you need to clean and disinfect it at some point.

Of course, you have to run into Alec and Sketchy, who are palling around without a care in the world.

That all stops when they turn to look at you. Their mirth dies on their faces. Alec’s gaze runs over you and stops at your cheek. You dab at your face, tentative and self-conscious. You know you must look like hell. Of course, they can’t let you just go to your locker in peace.

“Jeez, what the hell happened to you?” Sketchy asks.

You shake your head. “Fell into a bush.”

You drag Alec aside by his arm, giving him a warning look that further lets him know you’re lying. He follows you without complaint over to the lockers, where you two have the semblance of privacy. Before he can ask you what really happened, you snap at him.

“What the hell was in that package?” you ask. “Drugs? A weapon? Some other contraband? Do you know what could’ve happened to me if I’d gotten caught with that shit? Do you know what almost…”

Tears burgeon in your eyes all over again, and you have to take a deep, shaky breath. 

Alec’s brows furrow in what might actually be concern. He grasps your arm, gentle but firm. 

“Hey, tell me what happened,” he says.

Unconsciously, his grip on your arm makes the memory flash in your mind: of that pale, greasy man grabbing you and pinning you against the wall.

You shrug out of Alec’s hold more harshly than you meant to. It makes him raise a placating hand, as his eyes widen a fraction.

“A gaggle of Steelheads,” you say. You breathe tremulously, blinking past your tears. “I was lucky…anyway. Next time you want to ask me for a favor? Don’t.”

 You brush past Alec to get to your locker. There you grab the rest of your things and head out, though it’s quite a few hours before closing time. Nothing gets by Normal, who stops you at the reception desk.

“Hey, hey, Missy! Where the hell’re you going?” he asks. “Get back here. I’ve got packages that need homes.”

“I’m taking some much needed PTO,” you quip.

“You don’t have PTO. It’s not that kind of business,” Normal says.

“Then bite me,” you snap. “How’s that?”

Most of the room stills into quiet shock. You feel the weight of their gazes, your coworkers and friends, including Normal’s slackened face.

You’re normally not one to talk back. You accept your assignments without question, not wanting to cause undue trouble for yourself. Like everyone else here, you need your job, and you have nothing to fall back on.

But it’s enough, and you’re thoroughly done with today.

Your saving grace is that it’s plain to see how shaken up you are, even when you leave. Alec approaches the receptionist desk with Sketchy, drumming his hand on the counter absently. 

“What the hell crawled up her keister?” Normal remarks. “She’s lucky I’m short staffed right now, or she’d be in the can.”

Despite his strong talk, he resumes collecting paperwork and organizing files to distract himself from how much you’d taken him aback.

Alec frowns.

“She uh, had to deal with some Steelheads,” he offers, and hesitates. “...What the hell’s a Steelhead?”

“Yeah, you know, they’re into implants and biotech stuff,” Sketchy explains.

“She would know better than to hang out with those low lives,” Normal interjects. “They’re amped off their gourds on hormones and who knows what else.”

Alec processes that with a deepening frown. He decides to head out onto his next “delivery.”

He makes it to Sector 4 on his bike within an hour, but he still envies Max’s motorcycle. When he racks up enough cash, he’s definitely scoring a faster ride.

For now, he pulls up near the address he sent you to earlier. He never should’ve given you his drugs to sell, especially when he clearly doesn’t know this city well enough yet.

Poor reconnaissance, Alec, he thinks. Sloppy.

Though when did he start to think of himself as Alec and not by his designation, 494?

He’s soon taken out of his musings when he sees a gaggle of three men outside a cargo van. Each of them is uglier than the last, with metal spikes, among other things sticking out from their bodies. Steelheads. They’ve got to be.

These are the guys who harassed you.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Alec says, climbing off his bike. The men turn to the newcomer with suspicious frowns.

“I���m looking for three fugly Steelheads that hassled a friend of mine this morning,” he says.

One is tall, pale and wiry, and he opens his arms wide. “Well, you found ‘em.”

He has a British accent. The sight of him alone grates on Alec, though all he shows is calm confidence. He teases the short one, who seems to be missing an arm. Apparently he’s “pre-op,” set to get a new cyber arm made of Japanese steel.

Fucking wackos, Alec thinks. Manticore could learn a thing or two from these guys about mutilation.

“Here’s the thing, fellas,” Alec says. “My friend was carrying a package that didn’t belong to her. It belonged to me. You guys took it, and I need to get it back.”

The first man scoffs. “There seems to be a breakdown in communication, doesn’t it?”

He approaches Alec, hands on his hips, with his two cronies behind him. Alec can already smell their stench from where he stands. He doesn’t need them to get any closer.

“Maybe your little bitch didn’t relay our message,” he says, pushing his luck.

Alec’s smile sharpens; a deadly warning in and of itself.

“Nobody around here sells Andy but us,” says another of them.

Androxtamine. Alec didn’t care to be a drug dealer. It was just a means to an end in order to pay Max back for her help a little while back. Now, his buyer is pissed that he didn’t get his damn drugs, and Alec is out $500.

He tries to explain that calmly to this group of weirdos, but the leader is just so damn cocky.

“What’s a puff like you need with $500 anyway, eh?” he asks.

Alec’s smirk deepens. He mimics the guy’s accent and replies, “Actually, I need it for a ride on your mum.”

Well, the Steelheads don’t take too kindly to that. They try their best, Alec will hand it to them. But his genetics and training make the resulting “fight” no more than child’s play. He takes his frustrations out of their asses.

He can’t help being slightly more brutal than necessary when he remembers the fear lingering behind your eyes. The bloody cut on your cheek. The way it could’ve been so much worse…

And it would’ve been your fault. Alec’s lips press into a line.

Logan Cale, Max’s rich non-boyfriend and secret “Eyes Only” vigilante, calls Alec halfway through his venting session to, surprisingly, ask for his help.

Alec agrees, because it’s mainly for Max. A creature has been killing cops in Seattle. Unfortunately, the description of a “man-dog” sounds way too much like Joshua, their fellow transgenic in hiding.

It also means Alec has to spend most of his afternoon in a musty sewer.

The job ends up being a bitch and a half, even when Max finally shows up to help out. The true culprit ends up being Joshua’s brother, Isaac, who Joshua is forced to stop before he kills any more policemen who remind him of Manticore’s abusive guards.

The gentle Joshua ends up having to take out his own brother. Something that’s both familiar, and foreign to Alec. (But he’s sure it’s not so foreign to Max.)

It’s a harrowing scene, and a touch too emotional for Alec’s comfort. He leaves Max to tend to Joshua in the aftermath and catches a ride home with Logan. Somehow though, as bone tired and grimy as he feels, Alec can’t feel right about going home just yet.

Something is niggling in the back of his mind, forcing him to hand Logan a scrap of paper that holds your address. (Alec might’ve snuck into Normal’s office before he left for the day to find out where you lived on your employee file.)

“Hey, can you stop at this address?” Alec asks.

Logan glances at the piece of paper and nods. He then looks over at Alec. They aren’t friends, but Logan is perceptive enough to know that something’s weighing on his passenger.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks.

“There’s something I have to do,” Alec supplies.

When they eventually arrive to what seems like an abandoned building, Logan looks over at Alec.

“Good luck,” he offers.

Alec nods gratefully. They aren’t friends, but he supposes Logan’s not so bad, even if he is a slave to Max’s supposed charms.

Alec gets out of the car and head inside the building. It’s old and dirty, and he really can’t believe you live like this. It lacks security and basic hygiene. If he wanted to, he could kick straight through your door with half of his strength.

Instead, he knocks.

A few moments later, he hears your feet padding cautiously to the door.

“Who is it?” you ask. Your voice is familiar and pleasant to his ears, if nervous.

“It’s me, Alec,” he replies.

It takes a second of your hesitation, but you unlock the door and open it.

He eyes your tank-top and shorts, the thin bra, your damp hair, the smell of your shampoo assaulting his heightened senses. 

But the jagged red line across your cheek draws his attention, along with the confusion in your eyes, and the wooden spoon in your hand. Was that supposed to be your weapon of choice? 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask. “How’d you even know where I live?”

“Ah, I told Normal I wanted to check on you. Make sure you weren’t going AWOL on the job tomorrow,” Alec says with a teasing smile.

You look a bit skeptical, but you let him in when he asks if he can. He smells whatever you’re cooking, spots the metal pot of pasta sauce simmering on the janky-looking stove, and his mouth starts to water. He’s starving, now that he thinks about it.

He then focuses on taking in the rest of the apartment…and it doesn’t take him long. This place is a shoebox.

At least it’s clean, as much as the peeling drywall can be.

“Why’re you here then?” you ask. Alec turns to see you have a hand on your hip. You’re staring at him like he’s a puzzle you’re trying to figure out.

You set down the wooden spoon on the counter and face him. Alec’s tempted to brush a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, but he keeps his arms down to his sides instead.

“About what happened today,” he says. “Those guys aren’t going to be a problem for you again.”

You tilt your head at him.

“What’d you do?” you ask with furrowed brows. “Something shy of legal?”

Alec starts to smile. “Maybe.”

You hmph in response. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Alec barely resists rolling his eyes, though he knows he deserves that. Once again, he takes in your apartment. It’s cozy, he supposes, if small.

“You live alone?” he asks. “No roommate? Boyfriend?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” you say dryly. “But no. To both.” 

That satisfies him, and yet there’s a little churn in his gut. This place is questionable at best. Doesn’t exactly boast decent security. He’s not too worried about the Steelheads trying to find you, but after the past few months outside of Manticore, he realizes how rough it’s become for humanity after the Pulse, especially for a woman alone.

“You could use a doorman around here,” he remarks. 

You scoff in amusement. “Yeah, well. It may not be the Ritz, but as long as the heater doesn’t crap out on me, it’s a decent day.” 

Alec doesn’t know what the Ritz is, but it sounds nicer than this dump. 

You catch the silent look of judgment on his face, making you frown and cross your arms.

“I can take care of myself just fine, okay, Dad?”

Alec frowns and gestures to your face. “Yeah. Right. You’re little miss Fight Club.”

That sparks your temper. You glare up at him with a defiant tilt to your chin.

“This,” you point to your marred cheek, “wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you. I’m not an idiot. I don’t put myself in stupid situations, except for that one time I ignored my better judgment to help you!”

Alec glowers back at you, but he knows he doesn’t have a good defense. You take a step into his orbit and tap a finger into his chest.

“And by the way,” you add. Your voice cracks like a whip. “Whoever taught you how to apologize did a bang up job!”

By the end of your little rant, you’re breathing deeply, and Alec is barely holding onto his own temper. What cuts through it all are the frustrated tears brimming in your eyes.

He sighs internally.

They didn’t exactly cover this in training, he thinks, but he supposes that's just…Being Human 101.

All too soon, your anger dims into defensiveness. You withdraw from him and gesture to the door.

“Now if you don’t mind, please get out of my shithole apartment so I can finish cooking in peace,” you gripe.

“Wait, wait,” Alec implores, when you try to lead him out. He lets you back him up a step or two, just to seem human, but now he digs his heels in. He looks down at you with true regret. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. His hand finds your unmarred cheek, caressing softly. His thumb swipes across your skin. “I am. I shouldn't have asked you to make that delivery. I'm sorry you got hurt.”

You stare up at him, breathing labored, and making your breasts just barely brush his sternum. Your eyes search his just as much as he is yours.  

He isn’t actually sure who moves first, him or you. But when his lips meet yours, it feels like electricity under his skin. It’s magnets that are meant to connect—it’s his arms wrapping around your waist like steel bands and you grabbing his face, sinking your fingers into his sandy brown hair.

It’s teeth clicking and tongues warring as he backs you up to the kitchen counter, and he hefts you up there by your hips.

You squeal in surprise, making Alec chuckle before he swallows your sounds with his mouth.

You start to push his jacket off his shoulders, and he helps you, letting the rest of it slide right off, followed by his shirt and your tank top. His hands smooth up your bare thighs and his thumbs dip in between, squeezing near the apex of your thighs and making you tremble against his chest. Warmth pools in your core even from that simple touch.

“W-Wait,” you whisper. 

It makes Alec pause. His muscles tense. Has he read you wrong? 

He searches your face for a sign of discomfort. If you don’t want this, it’ll be…hard, at this point (for more reasons than one). But if he has to, he’ll let you go.

He’s relieved when you only twist away for a moment to turn off the stove. You return to him with a smile as your hands come to rest on his chest. You bite your lower lip. 

“Shall we continue?” he teases. 

His thumb encourages you to let go of your lip. He takes your chin between his fingers and guides you back to him.

The next kiss burns with a slower passion. One that consumes you enough to hook your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips. 

He grins against your lips and lifts you again, this time holding you firmly against him. You make another sound of surprise, but you don’t let that stop you from delving deeper into his kiss. 

He carries you into the bedroom and slams the rickety door.

Afterwards, the two of you lay together on the wrong side of your bed. 

Alec lies on his stomach and you on your back. The night had gotten such that you stopped caring which side you typically put your pillow on. Your hair is fanned out on the mattress in many tangles he took pride in creating.

A shitty show plays on your small TV, but Alec is watching with rapt attention. 

He’s kind of cute about it actually, you think. Like he’s never seen a soap opera before. 

“Ooh, that one’s my favorite,” you point backwards. “It’s about a sexy doctor, obviously.”

“Right, because I’m sure doctors always have this much sex with their patients,” Alec quips. 

You snort and shake your head. You stare at the side of his face for a moment, rather than the TV. 

The back of his hand rubs against your shoulder, earning your attention. 

“What’re you thinking?” he asks. He’s still looking at the screen.

“That I’m even hungrier now, but I don’t feel like getting up,” you admit with a giggle. He laughs.

“I wouldn’t mind some chow,” he says. 

You roll onto your stomach, taking some of the sheets with you when your knee slides over, resting against his naked lower back. You lean your chin on his shoulder as your hand travels across his back. 

“Is that your way of inviting yourself over for dinner?” you ask. 

He looks over at you then. He’s grinning, but his eyes are a touch softer, you think.

“If you don’t mind me crashing,” he says.

You shake your head and sift your fingers through his hair. Your gaze drifts down the back of his neck and catches on a strange mark. It’s a barcode, you realize, touching it lightly with two fingers. 

“What’s this? A prison tat?” you tease. 

He chuckles humorlessly. “Sort of.”

Your amusement fades, but your soft fingers along the back of his neck elicit a small shiver out of him. Your touch is gentle. He isn’t used to gentle, and it makes goosebumps spread across his skin. He feels your lips press a kiss to his shoulder next, and he turns his head to look at you. 

Beautiful, he thinks, taking in your face again, and the hint of cleavage down the sheets covering you, hiding the familiar curves he had all too much fun exploring.

“You gonna tell me the story?” you ask. “Or save it for a rainy day?”

Alec lets out a sigh through his nose. “Let’s pencil that one under the ‘Rainy’ column.”

You nod in agreement and bite your lip. These days, everyone has a story they’re not proud of. Even something that keeps them up at night. You don’t press Alec for his.

He’s grateful for that. He leans in and kisses you, nice and slow.

From the beginning, he noticed you. Your tenacity. Your quiet confidence. How you’re always willing to help your friends, and how you’ve never taken any of his shit, even if he knew part of you had been contemplating his suggestive offers. That spark always kept him coming back for more…and somehow, it became more.

In the back of his mind, this scares him a little. Being with you feels dangerous in a way that feels both familiar and foreign, but it’s too late. He’s been hooked by the pull of you. It’s a craving he can’t help but try and fill. Hopefully, not just tonight.  

“You said something about food?” he grins.

You smile and lean in again, until you’re mere inches from his lips. 

“Hmm, impromptu dinner date?” you offer. Alec laughs quietly and nods.

“We kinda went about this backwards,” you say, “but if you like spaghetti and plain sauce, I’m your girl.”

He smirks at that, and thumbs at your chin.

“Then you’re my girl.”

AN: And there's Part 1! It's only my second time writing Alec, so I hope he feels in character. Let me know what you think of this little series so far. 😘💜

There's much more in store over the next three parts, and the next one tackles perhaps my favorite episode (2.11), even if it's the most gutting.

Next Time:

“All right, that’s enough outta you,” Alec says, and he claims you with a more demanding kiss. His fingers sink into your hair tightly.  

But you press your hand to his cheek, making him pause for a moment. The amusement fades from his eyes the longer he stares into yours. You’re not teasing or joking anymore. 

You kiss him then with meaning. With tenderness. 

You don’t know how it makes that coil of guilt grip him like a vice.

Keep Reading: PART 2

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