#WITH GREAT POWER COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

[6toru]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄.

synopsis. gaining the title ‘duke’ not only came with the prestige, but came along the lonely days you spent yearning for your husband as he toggled the new duties and responsibilities he had to face. it was only a matter of time before you decided that you could only have so much patience, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt if you played around a little – watching as your husband who held himself in great temperance and sangfroid fall into pieces the more you attempt to break his composure.

pairing. nanami kento x fem!reader genre. dukedom & arranged marriage au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), breeding kink, rough sex , explicit language + dirty talk

word count. 4.2k

author's note. hehe a repost from an old writing blog of mine ! def one of my favourite pieces + something about someone who's usually so poised losing control of themselves... feral is what i am 😩

NANAMI KENTO, no doubt, was a powerful young man who earned himself the title Duke from the royal king after his contribution and victory in the most recent war. Of course, now that he was given the new title, he was given a whole lot of responsibilities and duties that he’s got to fulfill now that he had plenty more people to protect. Nowadays, the young duke would either be found training his lot of knights, hunting, or cooped up in his grand office busying himself with myriads of documents. Despite being incredibly proud of his achievements, you still couldn’t help but yearn for the affection of your beloved husband.

 Many nights were spent alone, staring up at the tall dark ceiling while you silently counted sheep – hoping that once you had reached a hundred, he would arrive and join you in bed (he’d often fall asleep on the sofa in his office). And, many nights were spent with you fending for yourself when you longed for his touch, arching your back when you’d climax on your fingers – however, you never felt fully satisfied. Your fingers could never compare to his larger and thicker fingers, nor his… 

You shake your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks growing redder by the lewd thoughts of your husband swimming through your mind. The last time you had intercourse with the male was when you both consummated the marriage, which was almost half a year ago, and then a month after that, the war happened – and two months later, he’d come back with a new title, Duke. Everything else after that was a blur. He was just within your reach — residing in the same manor and all, could almost reach for him but always got farther and farther away. You miss your husband, desperately. 

You stroll through the hallways of the manor, taking small strides towards the familiar giant door with a board of your freshly baked bread balanced in your hands. You continue to hum a gentle tune as you got closer and closer to the door. Although, it may appear to other people that his wife was innocently barging into his office thus surprising him with baked goods made with love – However, unknowingly for them, you had other plans hidden up your sleeves.

“Kento,” your voice gentle as you call out his name, “I brought you something that I think you’d love!”

You open the door further, revealing your husband — as per usual — busying himself with his documents. Fatigue was plastered all across his face, though he tried his best to mask it, but the dark circles underneath his hazel eyes were of no help. You could tell that even his muscles had gotten sore from training and staying seated for long periods of time. You placed the bread tray in front of him, and you walked around the desk to stand next to your husband. 

“Thank you, honey,” He quickly thanks you, sending you a quick nod of acknowledgement. Your husband was in pure autopilot mode, his hand continuously signing the documents despite him slowly losing focus — desperately trying to keep them open rather than succumbing to slumber.

“You should take a moment to relax, Kento.” You say. Just as he is about to come up with some type of excuse as to why he shouldn’t take a break, you lean in closer to his ear. “Let me help you.”

Your hands travel up to his back, and you applied some pressure on his shoulders while you massaged him. Your husband releases a low groan when you apply even more pressure on a stubborn muscle knot on his shoulders. You smile when he relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes while he leaned closer into you as you massaged into his sore muscles until those pesky knots disappeared. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel much better,” Kento sighs, humming pleasantly, “ Thank you for the bread, too. I’ll make sure to finish it while I continue working.”

“Can’t your break be a little longer?” You probe at him, pouting softly. “I missed you.”

A sudden wave of boldness and confidence overtook your consciousness, and you brought yourself down on his lap, your arms snaking around your husband’s muscular shoulders. Kento looks completely taken aback, and you eat that expression up as if it is candy. 

 “Kento,” you begin, “can’t you see that your cute and loving wife misses you?”

You press your lips against his ear, before whispering: “I’ve been thinking about you so much, putting a baby inside of me.”

Slowly, you thrust your hips against his thigh, watching your husband in pure amusement as he attempts to keep his composure; his hand tightening on his pen, knuckles white. Almost immediately, you can feel him hardening underneath you, and you grinned almost immediately. Something about his reaction swelled your heart with pride, knowing that despite being busy you still, somewhat, had an effect on him. Even more, Kento was taken aback, completely speechless (and undeniably turned on) from his wife’s bold ministrations.

 “B-baby inside..?” His voice came out as a dry rasp, his eyes wide .

Before your husband could process anything else, he felt the weight on his lap disappearing, and he quickly stared up to watch you getting ready to leave. You fixed the wrinkles on the hem of your dress, trying to fight back the grin on your face after having just teased your usually stoic husband. He had always appeared so cool and composed, so watching him try so hard to keep his composure undeniably gave you some type of thrill. 

“Y/N?” He called out your name, looking visibly confused. Your eyes traveled down to your husband’s trousers, smiling innocently as you caught sight of the large tent growing between his legs.

“I almost forgot to mention, but the marchioness invited me to her manor for a tea party.” You said, attempting to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat while your husband appeared flustered. “I won’t be back until tonight.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, not before licking his bottom lip as you pull away. You were being far too mean with your husband, but you couldn’t help it — watching him slowly crack beneath your manipulation sent a shock of arousal straight between your legs. “Until then, promise me that you’ll finish the bread and take breaks when you need it, okay?”

Before the man could even muster a single response, you walked out of his office. Only two could play at this game, you thought to yourself as you closed the office door behind you.

Hours had already passed and you finished catching up with the noble ladies, exchanging goodbyes and letters before parting ways. It had truly been a while since you had last caught up with your friends. Nevertheless, the time spent at your friend’s manor was enjoyable, listening to all the spicy gossip while enjoying desserts and tea. 

The ride back home in the carriage is silent — the only sound present were the continuous patters from the horses’ steps. You stare outside the window, quietly watching the manor eventually disappearing as the carriage goes further away in distance. It is already a quarter past nine, perhaps the latest you have ever stayed out, and it is safe to assume that your beloved husband is probably resting on the sofa in his office again. 

You lean your back against the seat, pressing the side of your head against the window as your eyes begin to grow heavy, the distant sounds of the horses’ steps gradually lulling you into a short slumber.

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

“Oh my, we’re already here?” You ponder to yourself out loud, groggily opening your eyes. You place your hands atop the coachman’s guiding you down the carriage, and you stare at the tall manor before you. Once you enter inside, you are automatically greeted with your maids ushering you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. Undeniably, you felt a little disappointed, as you believe that your husband had unknowingly proved your point from earlier — you, at least, hoped that he’d stay awake a little longer. You sink lower into the tub, blowing bubbles as you scrunch your brows together, the water hiding pouting lips. The maid had left you alone earlier, telling you that she’d return with a towel soon, but it’s been moments.

You glance around the bathroom, trying to decipher the exact location of your nightgown. Ah, it was on the stool, next to the door. If anyone had walked in on you grabbing your nightgown from the stool, the only thing they’d see is your wet and bare body. It shouldn’t be too bad, though —after all, it’s always been your maids coming in. Slowly, you stand up from the large tub, and you immediately shiver from the wave of cold air rushing to you,, cool beads of water dripping down your body. With careful steps, you make  your way across the room, your hand reaching out towards your nightgown. 

You suddenly hear a knock on the door, and you instinctively grab the gown to cover the front of your body. It must be the maid, you think to yourself and you try to mimic that of a stern face — however, you can’t bring yourself to be too harsh on a new maid, after all. You watch the door open slowly, and you tap your fingers against your elbows. “Hana, where were you all this… Oh.”

Almost immediately, your face is sent aflame and you scurry away from the door, your failed attempt of a stern persona pathetically crumbling away as the space revealed no one other than your husband standing in front of the doorway with a towel in his hand. Hazel eyes travel up and down your frame, his jaw tensing at the sight of your bunched up nightgown barely covering your body — hell, it didn’t cover anything, he stares longingly at your left breast deciding to slip out of the covers. He steps into the room and closes the door shut immediately, his eyes still locked into your frame and he stays silent. 

You press the nightgown against your body even more and you look away from his gaze, as if it could help hide your insecurities that are growing the more he stared and stayed silent. However, all that stops when you glance back at your husband and he gives you a come hither motion with his index finger. “Kento,” you say his name softly, “I thought you were asleep—”

“Come here,” is all he says to you, his voice low and baritone. You easily comply with his words, taking small strides to get closer to the male. “Hand me your nightgown.”

“I thought it was Hana that knocked,” you say quietly as you hand your husband your nightgown, further revealing your naked body. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch for a mere moment before he quickly regains his composure — however, it is already so fragile. He swiftly wraps the towel around your body before pulling you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips while he leans closer to your face with stern eyes. “You’re lucky that it was me, then. What were you thinking about going out of the bath like that? What if it wasn’t Hana or I that walked in?” 

“I didn't want to stay in the bath anymore, and I genuinely believed that my maids would be the only ones to walk in. Because of that, I didn’t feel too worried.” You answer your husband softly, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Despite you giving me a bit of a surprise, I can’t say that I’d rather have Hana come here instead of you.”

“Is that so? That’s a relief, then. I did tell her that I’d take care of the rest and she could rest for the night.” He hummed, before lifting you up in his arms without any warning, immediately eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. 

“W-what are you doing?” You question your husband, stammering as you instinctively place your hand onto his chest. 

“You know, after you played your little game earlier, I wasn’t able to do my work properly.” says Kento, opening the bathroom door. “I believe you should bear some sort of responsibility, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter under your breath, masking a soft grin as you nuzzle your face into your husband’s neck.

 “Putting a baby inside you,” he says, a slight strain present in his baritone voice as he continues walking down the hall with your towel-covered body in his arms. The walk down to your shared bedroom feels like an eternity has passed, the sounds of his footsteps resonating across the quiet hall. You want to question him where the rest of maids and butlers had gone but you relented, your body tense under the man’s carnal gaze.

“If fucking a baby inside of you is what you want, then it’s what you’ll get. It’s what my sweet wife asked for, after all.”

“H-Honey, what are you—?” 

With one hand, Kento swiftly opens the bedroom door. You let out a small shriek when he throws you on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed, his large hands pinning your hands above your head. He has this carnal glint in his amber eyes as he stares deeply into yours, it was as if all his self-control was beginning to crumble right before your eyes — you’ve never seen him like this; a cool, composed and reserved man looking so disheveled above you—his dress shirt buttoned loosely, revealing his collarbones and the evident incarnadine flush radiating onto his cheeks. Truly, it is a delicious sight to behold, and the wetness dwelling between your legs only seems to grow the longer you stare at the man.

 “What a lewd woman, you are.” He mutters, his grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand trails down your chest, slowly pulling the towel down. “Was my sweet wife having fun playing teatime after leaving me to take care of this?”  

Before you can even utter a word, a sudden gasp leaves your lips when Kento grinds his hips against yours; the delightful friction of the erection growing in his trousers rubbing against your clit, your back arching in hopes to get more. “I missed you,” you say between heavy breaths, “I missed you so much—Ah! Y-You’ve been so cooped up in your o-office lately and ngh..”

Your words were cut abruptly by his lips, teeths clashed and tongues intertwined while his rough and calloused fingers trail up your torso, towards your bare chest in a teasingly slow pace. A muffled moan leaves your lips, only to be covered by your husband’s lips, as he teases your already erect nipples.

 “Tell me more,” said your husband, his lips leaving yours. 

With heavy eyes, you watch Kento’s lips trail to where his hands once rested. His tongue swirls around the mound before sucking on your skin harshly, and you rest your fingers tangled in his blond locks as he continues to elicit those cute sounds coming from your swollen lips.

“You’ve been so busy with your duties as the duke, and—Mhhm..!—I-I’ve been feeling so alone these many nights while I longed for you, so so desperately. I love you so much Kento—Ah!” You mewl out those words in unadulterated wanton, your voice all shakey, it almost sounds embarrassingly pathetic when your husband is doing nothing more than teasing your breasts rather than fucking you relentlessly in the mattress. You can barely care less about how you sound though, because his lips and touch alone are enough to send you into ecstasy. You want him to touch you more. The needy ache between your legs continuously grows more intense the longer he teases you. 

“H-Honey, ‘want more. Please.” You beg your husband, your fingers desperately trying to unbutton his wrinkled dress shirt. “I need more of you.”

Kento doesn’t reply back, continuing his little ministrations on your neglected mound. It is adorable seeing him so focused on pleasuring you, but the heat you feel in your pussy feels too overwhelming. You push your husband’s head away from your mound, his lips leaving your skin with a soft ‘pop!’ He glances at you questioningly.

It was a bold and sudden decision that you had made on a whim out of sheer desperation, but his reaction made it all the more worth it. As soon as your fingers leave his half-buttoned dress shirt, you hook your arms underneath your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your cunt drenched in your desperate juices. “Kento, I mean it when I told you that I wanted you to put a baby in me.”

His mouth is left agape at your sudden boldness, his eyes fixated on the juices slowly dripping out of your hole — his breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches your small fingers spread your pussy lips apart. “Kento, touch me. Please.”

“Shit.”

It is almost as if the string has finally snapped inside of him, because before his mind can even start to think properly, his hands are on your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart as he begins the merciless assault on your dripping folds; his tongue lapping at all your wetness as if he was animal thirsty for water. Kento almost groans at the way his finger stretches your pussy, his finger sliding in almost immediately due to your juices. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “you’re so wet for me.”

He slides his index finger in and out before adding a second finger to the mix. He starts off slow, but his pace gradually quickens to that of which is considered merciless. The sounds of your wet cunt getting demolished by his fingers echoes in the grand room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hips thrash against his fingers, and you can feel the sensation of pressure that was building up in your abdomen intensifying the more that he pleases you with his large fingers. Within less than a second, you cum intensely around his fingers, a loud moan erupting from your throat as your body slumps against Kento. 

‘His fingers feel so much better compared to my fingers,’ you think to yourself as you try to recover from your first orgasm. 

While you attempt to catch your breath, you glance back to Kento only to watch him undress with your mouth salivating. It’s already a given that your husband would be incredibly fit as he often trains with the knights and hunts (while not forgetting the night you had consummated with him in the dark the past few months ago — you felt every crevice of his muscles) — but now, seeing it up close and so clearly — he is truly a sight to behold. You reach your arm towards his chiseled abdomen, your fingers drawing hearts across his skin, and your eyes travel lower past his abdomen; staring intently at the huge tent growing beneath his underwear. You want to get fucked by this man already, so so bad.

“Kento,” you say his name softly, tracing your fingers along the outline of your husband’s clothed erection before trailing back up to the waistband, tugging it down slightly to expose more of his v-line. He tugs his boxers down completely, and your mouth immediately waters at the exquisite sight. He is a lot bigger than you had remembered.

When he slowly rubs the tip of his dick against your folds, shivers trickle down your spine as you raise your hips to meet his, attempting to get him inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Look at you all spread open for me, desperate to get a taste of my cock.”

He slips his tip in, eliciting a sharp breath past your trembling lips, and then he pulls out. You whine out his name in a bated breath, your cheeks flushed in an incarnadine hue. Kento spares you a soft smile, almost as if it was mocking you, before he fills your hole up to the very brim — splitting your pussy open. 

“Oh fuck—Kento!” A scream slips past your lips, your eyes scrunched shut as a huge wave of pleasure rushes through your veins, sending goosebumps on your skin. Your husband is relentless with his movements, your legs spread apart by his strong grip.  The sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with cries of his name resonates across the bedroom, coupled with the intense squeaking from the mattress. “F-Feels so good—Ahn! Please—Please don’t stop—Oh!”

“You dirty woman,” Kento sneers, “we’ve just started and your pussy’s already so greedy for my cum by how tight you’re squeezing me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get my sweet wife pregnant—filled with all my cum.”

With that, he spreads your legs even wider and leans his torso closer to yours; his face merely centimeters away from yours. “I can feel you getting tighter,” He says, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “you’re getting real close, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to properly reply though, as he trails his one hand down to your clit and rubs rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a silent scream—your mouth agape and eyes rolled back as you ride out your orgasm, arching your back against his chest. 

You are barely given enough time to recover when Kento returns to work, his lips instantly connecting to yours while he thrusts his cock inside your sopping hole with a stuttering pace. His hands travel up to your breasts and gives them a harsh squeeze, the pace of his thrusts quickening. Your husband looks utterly delectable, his face scrunched up as he focuses on your pleasure, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Pleasure fills your veins, and your cries only increase in volume the closer you are to reaching your second orgasm. 

Thoughts of you being all plumped up and pregnant play repeatedly in his mind, and it merely ignites his desire to pump all his cum into you. Breaths ragged, he stuffs his head into the crook of your neck, nails gripping into your hips as he continues to plummet into you. “K-Kento—!” You wantonly whine out his name, wrapping your legs tightly around your husband’s hips. “Cum inside me—please. Want your kids so bad.”

How can he not cum? Especially when the sight of his sweet wife being drunk on his dick is right before his eyes. With a groan (combined with a growl) of your name along with a string of curses leaving his lips, he stiffens up inside you; warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white. 

Upon pulling out, he watches large beads of white leaking out of your hole and he sticks his finger inside, pushing his cum back inside. You released a soft sigh in pleasure, your legs slightly twitching at your husband’s touch. 

“How are you feeling now?” Questions your husband, Kento. You reach your arm out to his face, your thumb tracing light circles on his cheekbones. 

“I’m a happy, happy wife,” you reply to him, laughing softly before leaning into his lips, giving him a soft peck. Kento chuckles lightly into the kiss. “Was I too rough with you?” He asks you once more, and you shake your head immediately.

“I think I’ve realized just now how much I enjoy being manhandled by you,” you reply back to him, giggling. “Rather, I enjoy seeing this new side of you.”

Your giggles quickly gets replaced by a slight gasp when your husband suddenly adjusts your position, your face and chest now pressed against the mattress with your husband behind you, his hand lightly rubbing his erect cock. Swiftly, you turn your head to Kento, your mouth agape as you are just about to question him but the sting of his hand on your ass immediately erases all rational thoughts in your mind. Heat immediately rushes to your face once more at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensation. 

“K-Kento,” you are able to utter your husband’s name, your arms already feeling weak from holding yourself up from the mattress. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he slowly rubs his cock against you from behind, your ears picking up a hoarse chuckle.

“I never said I was done with you,” Kento tells you, “not until I’m sure that you’ll get pregnant with all my cum."

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[shoujo-wizard]

Bewitched by Yuletide p.2 🍳

[Hallmark movie AU steddie A/B/O ft kitchen witch Steve & former rockstar Eddie, O!Steve/A!Eddie]

[some O!Steve pov & backstory as well as A!Robin backstory too]

🎸p.1

when Steve was 13 he went through his very first heat. when Steve was 13 his alpha father left him in the care of his grandpa for an entire summer that turned into an entire school year that turned into his father signing away his parental rights to Steve to his own parent in Steve's junior year at Hawkins High.

the adults never told him, but Steve deduced it was because he'd begun coming into his Talent. in the days after his first heat, before his father had driven him to Hawkins Indiana he would be completing his chores faster than he'd begun them. he'd know exactly who was about to ring the doorbell without ever looking out the window. Steve remembered the disgust on his father's face when Steve had correctly guessed what Richard Harrington had enjoyed eating most growing up without the topic ever being brought up. so Steve ended up raised by his remaining grandparent.

his omega grandpa Peter Harrington explained to him what was happening. he'd entered his 13th year, and that meant he began to be capable of things others weren't. apparently his grandpa's family, the Frumps, were a proud line of kitchen witches. Steve had evidently inherited the Talent. so as he grew into his Talents, Peter taught him everything he knew. Steve learned recipes & spells at his grandpa's elbow in the beautiful house his alpha grandma, the late Amelia Harrington, had bought just for her mate.

Steve learned how to start the autumn with a perpetual stew that would seemingly have no end till spring using the talents his grandpa helped him develop. his simmer pots only grew more fragrant as years went by. in the spring & summers he learned how to use his Talents in a way tht helped the vegetable garden flourish, even though neither were a green witch. his grandpa had beamed with pride telling him tht he was an even more powerful kitchen witch than his great-grandma Eva. as he got older, he was given more responsibilities in the kitchen. the different holidays became times for his grandpa to test his Talent as he neared high school graduation.

then the summer after he graduated, as he prepared to attend classes at the Roane County Community College, his grandpa Peter had a heart attack in his sleep. as the executor of estate Steve was in charge of too much concerning the death. he buried his grandpa five days later, many people who'd known Peter Harrington came to help Steve celebrate a life well lived, many people brought him casseroles, many people gave their condolences, many people told Steve stories he'd never heard.

Richard Harrington never picked up the phone or answered the voicemail Steve left him. Richard Harrington never responded to the second voicemail Steve left him informing him that Peter Harrington had written him out of his will, that Steve was now the sole inheritor of the entire Harrington fortune his grandma had worked so hard to build, and his grandpa had worked so hard to preserve.

his grandpa Peter taught him many things as a witch. that his Talent was his to manifest, his to explore, his to expand. that his heart was bursting with love, and that wasn't a weakness. he taught him that life continues on, time does not stop, the seasons will always change, and that the dead will never forget the living.

at his grandpa's funeral Steve met someone who told him stories about his grandpa when he was a Home Economics teacher at Hawkins High. Wayne Munson was a gruff alpha who looked stoic, but his manner of speaking was gentle. Steve could see the genuine kindness Wayne radiated, and he was grateful when Wayne came by the house that was now Steve's with ingredients for a sweet corn and cucumber salad. Steve sipped cold water with crushed mint while Wayne cooked. Grandpa Peter's favorite vinyl was playing in the living room, Cass Elliot's 1973 album titled Mama's Big Ones.

time went on, seasons changed, Steve started a weekly tradition of having Wayne over for Sunday dinner. he started classes at the community college, got very invested in a history class about textiles, and in the community college's library he always sat silently at the same table as another student. she was a trans feminine alpha who'd chosen the name Robin, she had moved to Hawkins for community college after graduating from high school a year early. they ended up locked in the libraries gender-neutral bathroom when the door got stuck, it was during finals and the library was open two hours longer. as they waited for the night janitor they bonded about grandparents, about parents that weren't equipped to accept them in their entirety, and Robin even confessed she only found other alpha women attractive.

Afterward they became two halves of a whole. Robin joined Sunday dinners. She spent more time sleeping over at Steve's home than she did at the apartment above her grandparent's bookstore. Robin told him that her family had owned the only bookstore in Hawkins since 1810, making it the oldest bookstore in the state of Indiana. when Steve told her he's a kitchen witch she lit up with questions after a moment of disbelief. Robin eagerly joined him in all the pagan holiday traditions his grandpa had taught him. they agreed their mutual favorite was Yuletide with Samhain as a close second. then when they learned they shared a birthday June 13th became a joint birthday celebration from then on.

when Robin's grandma died in hospice their final year at community college, Steve was the person she leaned on. she moved in with him, unable to enter the apartment without being overcome with paralyzing grief but determined to keep the bookstore going. when her insensitive beta mother came to town for the funeral Steve stood by her, helped her keep her ground against her mother's attempts to take control of the business and building left to Robin in the will. Robin's alpha father ended up being the one to silence Beatrice Buckley nee Smith by laying it out that Robin had legally inherited the building including the store as well as the majority of the contents of the apartment, that Robin might be young, but she had a good head on her shoulders. that they had no right to demand anything of her after how they'd reacted to her transition. George Buckley didn't chase after his wife when she stormed out, he apologized to his daughter for the way he shut down when she came out to them, he watched as his wife drove off back to their hotel, and after asking to rebuild their relationship he confessed he was going to serve Beatrice divorce papers. Robin cried as she hugged her dad, sobbed harder when he told her how beautiful self-love looked on her.

Wayne came by after the funeral, joined the three of them for dinner. he and George shared stories from high school. Wayne told Robin stories about the many times her grandparents had taken one look at him, a kid with two working parents, a kid who'd been charged with caring for his rambunctious rebellious little brother, and they'd given him books for half the price they were worth.

George Buckley moved back to Hawkins following the divorce. back into the apartment he'd grown up in, he worked in the store as assistant manager, he joined their Sunday dinners, and he made efforts to implement the vision Robin had of the bookstore being a safe space.

then one day while Steve was perusing the shelves of the bookstore even though it was his day off from the store. he looked out the store windows at the sound of Wayne's truck pulling up to the bank across the street. when he saw Wayne fall he let out a yell, and while Robin called for an ambulance he was running across the main street to sit with Wayne till the ambulance arrived. at the hospital he listened carefully to everything the doctor said about caring for the concussion Wayne had ended up with. Robin helped him take Wayne home to his tree farm filled with fir trees, the majority being douglas fir.

the day after he'd been home for a full day Wayne called to let Steve know his nephew had come to stay with him. Steve laughed when Wayne relayed the message to make sure he made enough for four for dinner that night.

Steve drove Robin and him to Wayne's after they locked up the bookstore for the night. George had to give their inventory orders a final review so he'd declined to join them. they pulled up, and Steve noticed the shiny red car that was left running with the driver's door open. as he cradled the ancient dutch oven in his hands, Robin turned the car, and shut the door. before they went inside Steve made a come hither motion with his hand at the car thinking how nice it'd be for the nephew's many bags to b unloaded.

upon entering Steve spared not a single glance for the nephew standing to greet them, determined to begin cooking because they'd stayed later at the bookstore than usual. he pulled off his scarf and coat. then pulled the canvas bags of ingredients out of the dutch oven. he heard Robin starting a conversation with Wayne. Steve was unpacking the ingredients when suddenly the smell of cedar and tobacco filled his nose. he looked up from pulling out the bread he'd made to go with the pumpkin soup he had planned, and standing in the doorway was Wayne's nephew.

Steve knew, he knew as soon as his nose had registered cedar and tobacco. Grandpa Peter told him that all witches would have one great love in their lifetime. Steve always assumed his platonic love for Robin was his, but he knew then he'd been wrong.

because as soon as the nephew introduced himself as Eddie Munson, Steve knew that this alpha was the man who would either cherish his heart or break it.

---

@lexirosewrites this is part 2 that i've written special for slick sunday this month. it was a wonderful distraction from, well, Everything TM. I'm thinking i'll keep adding to this every month on slick sunday till i feel this little ficlet series has reached a satifying conclusion. i think i'll even open myself up to creating a tag list for this series, spaces will b limited as my adhd can only handle so many details at once.

@manda-panda-monium @awkwardgravity1

yall get to b the first two of this tag list. write in the replies if you'd like me to tag you when i post part 3 next month. i will let the tag list get to 20 accounts & no more

don't let despair rule your life, going forward we have a lot of work to do, and we need a means to recharge as we fight to maintain our freedoms. idk what the future of fic in this country will b if project 2025 gets to censor queer media by banning ao3, but if it comes to it we can do as the fans before us did: mailing lists, zines, and more now that we have the internet.

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Devil's Night~

hello everyone! i'm back with the part 02 of devil's night. it is finished, i think. it's not my best writing, i haven't had a great day. so i hope you enjoyed it a little.

the idea for this is inspired by @things-arent-what-they-seem66's AU of adam and lilith switching places.

i know harvest is over but i have a few more things to write!

hope you all enjoy it!

part 01 - part 02

@adamsappleweek

Lucifer was beside himself. A strange, prickling sensation crawled over his skin, making every hair stand on end as he paced his lavish, dimly lit office. He didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous before—hell, even ‘nervous’ felt like a poor word for it. Agitated, tense, almost terrified. As he glanced around the vast space, his gaze flickered over elegant but strange mementos that barely felt like his own, particularly a row of glass-encased rubber ducks on the wall. His other self shared his fascination with the odd trinkets, but even that taste seemed tempered, refined. Controlled.

Control. That was the key difference.

He’d only been in this twisted mirror world a short time, but it already felt like it might drown him. The day’s schedule—a rigid, suffocating list of duties and audiences—mocked him from the polished mahogany desk. Meetings. Meetings with the damned. Meetings with the Sins. Meetings with Heaven. How the hell did his other self, this polished, all-powerful version of him, keep it all together? And on top of it, somehow managed to be the kind of partner and father Lucifer could never imagine himself being. That reality sent an unfamiliar chill down his spine.

His jaw clenched as his eyes traced over the maddeningly neat schedule. His other self apparently held weekly meetings with Heaven—a feat he couldn’t even fathom. He’d spent centuries barely able to get Heaven’s attention, and here this alternate version of him was practically scheduling tea with them. Every cell in his body bristled at the idea. When did he find time for Adam? And Charlie? Yet somehow, this Lucifer was doing it all.

With a low growl, he sank into the plush velvet chair, feeling its cool embrace swallow him up. His mind drifted to Adam—Adam, who was evidently married to him in this version of Hell, and who was pregnant with their second child. It was surreal. In his universe, this possibility had never crossed his mind, yet here, he was everything Adam needed and more. It made his heart ache in a way he didn’t want to admit. Adam had confessed his love to him—him, the impostor—in that soft, genuine way that Lucifer knew was meant for the other man. Each declaration sent a flutter through him, a buzz he couldn’t ignore, even as it filled him with guilt. He couldn’t escape the feeling that he was treading on sacred ground, some universe where he’d somehow gotten things…right.

Still, as he slouched lower in his seat, an unspoken question gnawed at him: What was wrong with him? How had this other Lucifer mastered an empire, commanded respect, and found time for a family, while he himself had barely managed to scrape by with half-hearted rule? Responsibility had always felt like an anchor around his neck. He avoided it. Yet here was a version of himself who carried it with ease, with honor. He was the King of Hell that mortals feared, that legends whispered of in terror. And then there was…him. Lucifer, the one who spent more time drinking or escaping into distraction than running his kingdom.

A soft knock at the door broke his spiral of thoughts, and he straightened, surprised by the twinge of anticipation that sparked through him.

“Come in,” he called, voice gruffer than he intended.

The door creaked open, and there stood Adam, his face bathed in a warm glow, a gentle calm that Lucifer found himself craving more with each passing day. Beneath Adam’s loose shirt, his rounded belly was unmistakable, the quiet yet powerful reminder of the life growing inside him. Lucifer’s gaze softened; his eyes drawn irresistibly to that swell.

How was this even possible? he wondered, still electrified and mystified by the thought. Lucifer wanted to look, wanted to part Adam’s thighs and see if he had a pussy. That had to be the only way Adam could be pregnant.

Did Adam have a vagina in his dimension?

“Hey,” Adam murmured, his smile a mix of shyness and insight as he caught Lucifer’s stare. “I thought I’d check on you. You look…tense.”

Lucifer chuckled, a low, dry sound as he gestured to the miserable stack of schedules spread before him. “You could say that.”

But when he saw Adam’s brow furrow in concern, Lucifer straightened and quickly tried to smooth down his unruly hair. “It’s nothing, really. Just…work.”

Adam slowly waddled across the office, and Lucifer’s sharp red-and-gold eyes followed him, softening with each step. There was something entrancing in the way Adam’s hand instinctively went to his stomach, rubbing it with gentle affection.

“You’ve been working hard. Then again, you always work hard.” Adam’s words were quiet, almost habitual, as he approached Lucifer’s desk.

Just as he reached the edge of Lucifer’s plush office chair, Lucifer jumped up, offering it to him.

Adam laughed softly but shook his head, remaining standing. “I’m fine, really.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to insist, then thought better of it and remained on his feet as well.

“I work too much, don’t I?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended.

Adam reached out, brushing a warm hand over Lucifer’s cheek, his fingers caressing the unfamiliar lines of his face.

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Adam replied, his smile touched with affection. “But you’ve always brushed me off, saying you had to work hard to keep Hell safe.”

Lucifer closed his eyes, leaning into Adam’s hand. The warmth of his touch melted the tension from his body, grounding him.

Safe? Lucifer wondered, feeling a flicker of doubt. Safe from what? Heaven?

But he stopped himself from asking, afraid of breaking whatever spell this was, of risking Adam pulling away from him. This moment felt like the very thing he’d been yearning for. Lucifer placed his clawed hand over Adam’s, holding it against his cheek as he gazed up at him from beneath long, dark lashes.

“We haven’t had much time together, have we?” he murmured, his voice low, almost apologetic. “I’ve been so caught up…in my duties.”

Adam blinked, clearly surprised by the admission, his expression shifting to one of bashful shyness.

“Well, no, we haven’t,” he replied, almost timidly. “But it’s okay…you’re the King of Hell and all. I understand.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, stepping closer to him, close enough that Adam’s pregnant belly pressed against him. A tiny, bittersweet realization hit him—even here, in this world, he still couldn’t quite match his counterpart.

Even their height was slightly different; he barely reached Adam’s should back in his world, but here, his other self reached Adam’s nose. Still, he closed the gap, his voice barely a whisper as he cupped Adam’s face, his claws tracing gentle circles on Adam’s cheeks.

“I know I haven’t been very present. But I’m going to change that. Hell won’t fall apart without me for a few hours.”

Adam’s gaze turned doubtful, as if this wasn’t the first time he’d heard such a promise. “Luci, you…you don’t have to say that just to make me happy. I know things are changing, and it’s important.”

His words had a practiced, almost automatic feel, as though he’d memorized them after hearing them too many times.

Lucifer’s stomach twisted. Had his other self made these promises before? The same empty reassurances Adam had quoted earlier in the kitchen? Did his other self regularly make promises he had no intention of keeping?

“Fuck that,” Lucifer said, his voice sharp with conviction. Adam’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope and wariness blending in his gaze.

“Fuck the changes. And fuck all that ‘it’s important’ crap. It can wait a few hours. No—scratch that. It can wait until tomorrow.”

Adam spluttered, his golden eyes lighting up with hope, though doubt shadowed them. Lucifer slipped his arms around him, pulling Adam close with a fierce smile.

“Actually, no, screw the whole week,” he declared, his voice firm. “I’m officially on vacation. I’m sure Hell will survive without me for a few days.”

Adam’s mouth dropped open, a mixture of surprise and joy crossing his face. “R-really? You’re not just saying that?”

In answer, Lucifer leaned up, ignoring the bump of Adam’s belly pressing into him, and kissed him softly, lingering there until the kiss deepened, as if it could make up for every broken promise.

“I’m not just saying it,” he whispered as he pulled away. “In fact, watch me.”

With a flair that felt more like his true self than ever, Lucifer flopped back into the plush chair, casting Adam a devilish grin as he snapped his fingers. Instantly, a golden screen shimmered into existence, who Lucifer assumed was his assistant appeared on the other side, wide-eyed and anxious.

“Sir!” his assistant blurted, sitting up straight. “You’re almost three minutes late! It would be unwise to keep Leviathan, the King of Envy, waiting!”

Lucifer’s curiosity prickled at the mention of Leviathan—a Sin who, in his own world, rarely bothered him. But before he could lean forward to ask about it, he caught Adam’s expression, the way his golden eyes dimmed as he took a small step back, already resigned to disappointment.

So this is how it was, Lucifer realized with a bitter pang. This other Lucifer really did make these empty promises.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Lucifer sat up and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m afraid not! Please clear my schedule for the entire week!”

“W-Wha-“

“I’m officially on vacation!” he announced brightly.

The assistant stammered, clearly taken aback, but Lucifer plowed on before they could interject. “I’ll be back next week. Reschedule all the important meetings and extend my regards to Leviathan and the rest. I’ll be unreachable—I’m sure you understand. My husband is heavily pregnant and needs my attention, and my dear daughter has invited us to her hotel for some well-deserved family time.”

The assistant gasped, visibly bristling. “Sir! You mustn’t cancel—”

“Thank you! Goodbye!” And with a final snap of his fingers, the screen vanished in a shimmering wisp.

Turning back to Adam, Lucifer grinned, pleased with himself.

“See? All done!” he declared, his eyes sparkling with pride.

Adam blinked at him, mouth opening and closing, clearly stunned. He stared at Lucifer as though seeing him for the first time, as if unable to believe this was real. Smiling, Lucifer rounded his desk, sliding his hands into Adam’s and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“There. I’m all yours again,” he murmured.

Adam stood there, utterly stunned, his golden eyes wide as he processed what had just happened. Lucifer couldn’t resist a soft, triumphant chuckle as he watched the expression on Adam’s face transform from shock to hesitant delight. A surge of warmth bloomed in his chest; it was painfully clear that Adam rarely received this kind of attention from the Lucifer he thought he knew.

And in this moment, if Lucifer knew anything, it was that Adam deserved every bit of it.

“You’re…really serious?” Adam whispered, his voice so low it seemed he feared any louder sound might shatter this moment.

Lucifer gave Adam’s hands a reassuring squeeze, pulling him closer, his usual devilish grin softened into something genuine.

“Absolutely,” he murmured, his tone carrying an earnestness that surprised even him. “I know I…I’ve probably made a hundred promises before. But this time, I mean it. You and Charlie… you’re my whole world this week.”

Adam let out a slow breath, his expression softening into something vulnerable and raw. Lucifer’s heart pounded, feeling something he couldn’t quite place. Without another word, Adam leaned forward, resting his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, and Lucifer’s arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him into an embrace so warm and steady that it felt almost too real.

They stood there in silence, Adam’s rounded belly pressing gently between them—a reminder of this life they could have shared, however miraculous and surreal it felt to Lucifer. He knew he should feel out of place, like an imposter in another man’s life, but in this rare instant, he felt strangely…at home.

“I’ve missed you,” Adam whispered, the words so soft they nearly vanished in the quiet. “More than I can say.”

The confession struck something deep within him. This other Lucifer had left Adam feeling fractured, alone even in their togetherness. Tilting Adam’s chin up, Lucifer met his gaze, trying to communicate with his eyes what he couldn’t explain with words.

“Well, get used to me,” he murmured, grinning in a way that he hoped was as comforting as it was teasing. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Adam’s cheeks flushed, his mouth curving into a tentative smile that Lucifer found almost too endearing. He leaned in and kissed him, savouring how Adam melted into him, as though the walls that had kept them apart were finally crumbling. In that moment, the weight of Hell, his duties, and the impossible situation he was navigating faded to the background. This was the only reality he wanted—one that, even if borrowed, he intended to treasure.

When they pulled apart, Adam’s hand remained entwined with his, giving a soft, almost reluctant squeeze.

 “So…what now?” Adam asked, a spark of excitement in his voice.

Lucifer’s smirk crept wider, amusement flickering in his eyes for two reasons. First, Adam looked positively adorable, his face lighting up with that innocent excitement Lucifer so rarely encountered. Second, he’d uncovered a weakness, a chink in the perfect armour of this other Lucifer—a slip in family obligations that he could easily exploit.

“How about we surprise Charlie with a visit?” he suggested, his tone velvety smooth, disguising the tiny thrill of mischief that was building. “I think our daughter would love a bit of family time.”

Adam’s eyes brightened, a spark of joy that made Lucifer’s heart stammer—a reaction he hadn’t anticipated. For a brief moment, the shadowed bitterness ebbed, replaced by a soft warmth. Here, Adam’s happiness felt… real, almost achingly genuine.

“She’ll be thrilled!” Adam laughed, the sound rich and bubbling, weaving between them like music.

“She’s been asking about you for so long.” He shook his head with a fond smile. “Charlie’s going to be so excited. She’s missed you terribly.”

"She… has?" Lucifer’s surprise was unmistakable.

In his own world, he and Charlie shared nothing close to such warmth; their relationship was strained, brittle—like glass, one wrong word away from shattering completely. She’d never reached out for him, much less longed for his company or well, that was before Lucifer came to her hotel and began to help her reach her dream. And yet here, in this strange universe, she wanted him around. She’d been asking for him, waiting for him.

Adam laughed again, a beautiful, unguarded sound. “Of course! She loves you silly. You’re her father. She’s been wanting you to come to her hotel for ages now, especially since she started working with the redeemed souls.”

The words hit Lucifer with a surprising force, his breath hitching slightly. This other Lucifer had something he didn’t—a daughter’s love and a husband’s unwavering support. But before he could sink too far into that unfamiliar ache, the old bitterness stirred in his chest.

“Oh, but I’ve been too busy,” he finished, biting back the irritation that threatened to curl his voice.

Too busy. It was exactly the sort of excuse that grated on his nerves, even though he had used it himself a thousand times before.

Adam nodded, looking sheepish, and squeezed his hands. “But it’s okay—Charlie understands! She knows you have to keep Hell in order. You’re doing the hard work.”

Adam’s faith, his quiet acceptance, only made the bitterness throb harder. Excuses.

His other self had managed to keep his family with half-hearted promises and sweet words. The unfairness of it sank in, twisting like a thorn in Lucifer’s chest. It would’ve been so easy for this other Lucifer to take a week—a single week—to be with them. Just as he would, if he had the chance.

Forcing himself to breathe, he swallowed the biting words on his tongue and pulled Adam closer, the tension in him slowly ebbing as he rested his forehead against Adam’s cheek.

“Well,” he murmured softly, his voice wrapping around Adam like a promise, “I’m going to change that. I’m not too busy anymore.”

He pulled back, meeting Adam’s gaze with a fierce determination that made Adam’s eyes widen, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“I’m here,” Lucifer continued, his tone thick with conviction. “For you, for Charlie… for all of it.”

Adam’s face softened, his smile tender and filled with something Lucifer couldn’t quite name, a kind of love that felt almost foreign, almost painfully sweet.

“I know, love,” Adam whispered, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “And we’re here for you, too.”

The words settled around him like a blanket, unfamiliar but comforting, something he hadn’t realized he’d longed for. He could feel the power of this universe, of this life he’d stumbled into, settling over him, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt… at home.

“I can’t wait to see her.”

"Good," Adam murmured, tilting his face to meet Lucifer’s gaze. "It’s been so long since she’s seen you. You know how much she admires you, always telling everyone that her father’s the king of Hell yet has the biggest heart down there."

Lucifer’s chest tightened, struck by the weight of Adam's words. Admiration? In his world, Charlie rarely granted him anything close to admiration; disappointment was more the tune of their conversations. And yet here, this version of himself had managed to bridge that chasm. But beneath the sweetness lay a bitter bite. He was starting to despise this other Lucifer, the one who seemed to waltz effortlessly into a life of closeness and forgiveness while he, himself, had been shut out by his own daughter’s scorn.

Adam chuckled, a lovely blush blooming across his cheeks that made Lucifer’s heart race.

“Also,” he murmured, glancing down with a playful smirk, “I think you might have… given your assistant a few ideas about what we’ve been up to before you opened the channels.”

Lucifer blinked, furrowing his brows. “What do you mean?” he stammered, genuinely puzzled.

Adam’s eyes sparkled as he gestured down the length of Lucifer’s body, his blush deepening to an irresistible pink. “You’re… um, not exactly dressed for a formal meeting, my love.”

Lucifer’s gaze followed Adam’s, trailing down his own body until his eyes went wide. He was standing there, in full view of the channel, dressed in nothing but his ridiculous duck-themed boxers.

Heat flooded his face as he sputtered, “I forgot!”

But he quickly regained his confidence, flashing Adam a roguish grin. “Well, now they know just how much I adore my beautiful queen!”

Adam snorted, the blush never leaving his cheeks, his eyes warm with affection and just a hint of mischief.

“Oh, they know all right,” he laughed, squeezing Lucifer’s hands before gently tugging him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go get ready. If we want to surprise Charlie, we’ll need to leave within an hour. She was planning to come pick me up so I wouldn’t have to travel alone again.”

Lucifer’s brows creased as he followed, still gazing at Adam with an adoring smile before something curious crossed his mind. “Travel alone? Why don’t you just… open a portal?”

Adam gave him a quizzical look, chuckling as he leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Lucifer’s lips. “Very funny, Luci. I can’t use magic—you know that.”

Lucifer froze, his mind stuttering over Adam’s words. Adam couldn’t use magic? But in his own world, Lilith could wield dark magic easily after her fall. How could it be that Adam, his Adam, was different? Lucifer quickly masked his confusion, breathing a small sigh of relief when Adam turned away, unaware of his bewilderment.

The last thing Lucifer wanted was for Adam to discover the truth—that he wasn’t truly his Lucifer. This world had become so precious, so enticing, and Lucifer longed to keep his secret and continue living this enchanted life, to remain here with Adam, and even with Charlie. But his curiosity simmered beneath the surface. Why didn’t Adam have magic? And why were there these strange differences—the blue tones in the mansion instead of red, Adam’s striking blue horns, unlike Lilith’s blood-red ones? The blue glow seemed to calm him, like a gentle presence, so different from the harsh, fiery atmosphere of his own Hell.

Pushing the questions from his mind, Lucifer grinned and tightened his hold on Adam’s hand, swinging their joined hands playfully, earning another beautiful laugh from his husband. Adam’s laugh was light, rich, and filled with a joy that sent warmth coursing through Lucifer.

“You’re such a dork,” Adam teased, nudging Lucifer’s shoulder.

Lucifer nudged back with a smirk. “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

Adam’s smile softened, and he gazed at Lucifer with such pure adoration that it made Lucifer’s chest ache.

 “That’s right,” he murmured, voice tender. “You’re my dork.”

Overcome with affection, Lucifer cupped Adam’s cheek, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips. Here, there were no servants bustling around, no formality—just the two of them in the quiet intimacy of this strange and wonderful world. In his own dimension, Lilith had insisted on servants to cater to her every whim, but here, with only Adam’s presence filling the mansion, Lucifer felt free. Free to be his truest, most ridiculous self, free to love without restraint.

And he intended to cherish every moment he could get away with in this paradise, so long as fate allowed him to stay.

By the time they reached their shared chambers, Adam was breathless, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of red. Gently, he pushed Lucifer back, laughing shyly.

"We don’t have time for that, Luci,” he murmured, his lips swollen from the countless times Lucifer had pinned him to the walls along the way, stealing one kiss after another.

Lucifer pouted, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Aw, but Addie… just one more kiss?”

Adam bit his lip, fighting back a shy smile as he lifted a hand to cover his mouth, stopping Lucifer’s advance.

“As much as I’d love for us to continue… we really don’t have the time right now.” He glanced down, placing a gentle hand over his rounded belly. “And besides, the last time we got carried away like that, we ended up with this little gift…”

Lucifer’s pout transformed instantly into a broad grin as he gazed at Adam’s stomach, his heart swelling at the sight of his husband lovingly cradling their unborn child. He longed to peel away Adam’s oversized shirt, to run his hands over every curve, to marvel at his husband’s softness and beauty.

But Lucifer resisted, letting the moment linger as Adam shyly added, “Maybe later… tonight?”

“Yes! Yes!” Lucifer’s voice was an eager whisper, his heart practically leaping at the promise. Adam’s laugh was light and sweet as he reached up to playfully poke Lucifer’s forehead.

“Now go get changed,” Adam insisted, his voice taking on a soft but serious tone. “We don’t have much time. Charlie will be here soon to pick me up—she didn’t want me traveling alone again. Don’t we want to surprise her?”

Lucifer’s ruby and golden eyes sparkled. “Right… we’re going to surprise Charlie.”

Adam leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to his cheek, then gestured toward the wardrobe, carved with a pattern of ducks that somehow looked endearing, especially with Adam’s warm smile lighting up the room.

Lucifer watched, utterly smitten, as Adam disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. He recognized it as the door Adam had stepped out of this morning when he’d first woken up here, alone and dazed, half-convinced it was all a dream. Letting out a dreamy sigh, he turned toward the wardrobe’s grand, duck-carved doors and pulled them open.

His breath caught at the sight—a vast, shared walk-in closet that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was a wardrobe fit for two, filled with racks upon racks of clothes, shoes, belts, bags, and more, all laid out perfectly. Here, in this universe, Adam had embraced the idea of sharing a wardrobe with him, something Lilith had always rejected back in his own world. A flutter of warmth rose in Lucifer’s chest as he ran his hands over what must be Adam’s section of clothing. He noted the punk-inspired themes, softened by cozy textures—clothes meant to be both stylish and comfortable. It suited Adam perfectly, especially now that he was… pregnant.

The discovery only deepened as he found matching pajama sets in various animal designs, including, to his delight, a series of duck onesies in a bright golden color. There was even a punk-rock version, complete with faux leather accents and silver embellishments. Lucifer let out a soft whine, imagining Adam wearing one of those duck onesies. They must have dressed up and snuggled together often, he thought, a pang of jealousy tugging at him before he managed to shake it off. Carefully, he smoothed out the fabric, placing the onesie back in its spot before moving further into the wardrobe.

As he walked, he froze, his gaze catching on a row of dark suits. He furrowed his brows, realizing every single one was black.

“What’s wrong?” Adam’s voice floated over, and he waddled into the closet, looking brighter and more at ease after freshening up. Lucifer turned to him with a frown.

“They’re black,” he murmured, still baffled.

Adam blinked, tilting his head before carefully approaching and inspecting the suits, his fingers skimming over the fabric with a discerning touch.

“You mean your suits?” he asked curiously.

His face scrunching up as he dropped the sleeve of one in favour of a different fabric, letting out a contented sigh as he found a softer texture. Lucifer noticed how particular Adam seemed about the feel of certain fabrics. Was he sensitive to textures, or perhaps had a sensory sensitivity?

“Yeah,” Lucifer said, taking the suit Adam seemed to prefer and holding it up to his body. “But… where are my white suits?”

Adam squinted, tilting his head in thought. “You don’t wear white suits, Luci. Well, you used to, but you got rid of them after Charlie kept drawing on them when she was little.”

“You decided it looked… unprofessional.” Adam shrugged, reaching for something on a higher shelf as if the idea was of little consequence.

“Unprofessional?” Lucifer’s frown deepened as he looked up, spotting a familiar white top hat perched on the topmost shelf, far out of reach.

“But I liked that suit… it reminded me of Eden.” Adam hummed softly, turning back to him with a warm smile spreading across his face, “But I think black looks very nice on you.”

With a shy glance, he reached out and traced his fingers along the sleeve of the suit Lucifer held, seemingly absorbed in the texture.

“Then I’ll get more white suits… to remind you of Eden,” Lucifer said with a grin, winking as he watched a lovely blush spread across Adam’s cheeks.

Adam’s smile softened as he continued touching the fabric.

“Of course, Luci,” he whispered, looking almost lost in the moment.

Lucifer leaned in, feeling a swell of affection so strong it made his heart ache. In this strange, wonderful world, he could live without the formality and coldness that had defined his life back home. Here, he could revel in these soft, intimate moments, with no one to serve or judge, no one to spoil the simple beauty of his life with Adam and Charlie.

“Tonight,” he murmured again, letting his voice brush over Adam’s ear as he took his hand. “When Charlie’s gone, it’s just you and me, Addie.”

Adam nodded, his blush deepening, and gave him a gentle squeeze. "Then hurry up and get dressed… I’d hate to keep Charlie waiting.”

With a final look, Lucifer released Adam’s hand and turned back to the suit, his mind lingering on the upcoming night. As he dressed, he thought of how he would make the evening one to remember, savouring every precious moment.

Lucifer stood in front of a row of six full-length mirrors, his reflection shifting as he took in the details of this version of himself. This body was different—taller, with a leaner build, but subtly more muscular. He tugged at the black jacket, adjusting the fit over his shoulders, and twisted to inspect how the dark, sharp lines sat against his frame. It was strange, not seeing the usual white and red but instead a black suit trimmed with a rich blue—a ringmaster’s design, certainly, but one with an air of authority, almost refined.

The coat draped perfectly, the eight gleaming golden buttons giving a striking contrast to the deep fabric. Beneath it, a black and blue-striped waistcoat hugged his torso, the two gold buttons adding a hint of flair. The black pants, unlike the puffed ones he wore in his own dimension, were slender and fitted, disappearing neatly into knee-high, heeled boots that comfortably accommodated his hooves. Lucifer stretched one leg, marvelling at how the boots didn’t pinch—they fit as though crafted for his steps.

He caught sight of his bare hands and paused, noticing the thin band of gold circling his left ring finger. His wedding ring. He stared for a moment, feeling the smooth metal, almost surprised to see it there, glinting with a familiar warmth. His heart gave a little flutter, realizing this world’s Lucifer—his husband—had the same symbol of commitment.

“One more thing!” Adam’s voice chimed, sweet and warm, pulling him from his thoughts. Lucifer turned as Adam approached, holding up a black top hat and placing it gently onto his golden curls.

"There. Dashing," Adam murmured, smiling with a soft, admiring look.

Lucifer turned back to the mirror and studied his reflection; the hat was a near replica of the one he wore in his own world, except this one was a deep, elegant black, crowned with a golden apple and spiked accents that looked almost like a regal crest.

Adam chuckled softly, and Lucifer’s gaze dropped to see a small green snake coiled around Adam’s hand.

“And let’s not forget Basil.” Adam raised his hand, and the snake slithered gracefully up to wrap itself around the hat’s middle, settling like a living band around the brim.

Lucifer’s eyes went from the hat to Adam’s fingers, where his own gold wedding ring caught the light. He exhaled, feeling an unexpected wave of relief and a bright grin spread across his face.

"And you,” he murmured, leaning close, his voice dropping to a playful warmth, “You look lovely too.”

Adam gave a small snort, glancing down at himself with a shy shrug.

“I guess I look okay,” he said, tugging lightly at his outfit.

Unlike the overly ornate robes worn by the Adam in Lucifer’s original world, this attire was simple and comfortable. Black leggings and an oversized blue t-shirt layered under a soft, black cardigan. The shirt hung loose, subtly concealing his rounded belly. Lucifer could see how Adam’s clothes were chosen more for comfort than style, a quiet effort to shield and protect his growing form.

A soft pout tugged at Lucifer’s lips. He stepped forward, sliding his arms around Adam’s waist, drawing him close.

“I think you’re beautiful no matter what,” he whispered, letting his fingers rest gently over Adam’s hands.

Adam’s blush deepened, a smile flickering at the corners of his lips.

“Luci…” he murmured, the warmth in his voice almost shy, a quiet fondness slipping through. He looked up at Lucifer, his blue eyes bright with love and laughter.

They lingered there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, before Adam cleared his throat, his cheeks still pink.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a chuckle. “We really should get going. Charlie’s not known for her patience, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Lucifer laughed, nuzzling Adam’s cheek affectionately before pulling back.

"Fair enough. But tonight…" He lowered his voice, brushing his thumb gently over Adam’s chin. “Tonight, we celebrate properly.”

Adam’s eyes softened, his fingers lingering on Lucifer’s chest before he nodded, an almost dreamy smile on his face.

"Tonight,” he agreed quietly.

Lucifer pulled Adam closer, his arm sliding around Adam’s waist, feeling the warmth of his husband’s body against his own. His clawed hand came to rest gently on Adam’s round, pregnant stomach, the soft fabric of Adam’s clothes warm beneath his fingertips. He breathed in shakily, the familiar and comforting warmth of the growing life beneath Adam’s skin making his heart swell with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe—an overwhelming love that was both tender and protective.

His lips curled into a smile, filled with affection as he looked up at Adam, his eyes softening with an almost reverent gaze. Lucifer tilted his head to rest against Adam’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, and whispered in a voice that was all warmth.

“Are you ready?”

Adam’s smile bloomed even brighter, and his eyes sparkled with love.

“Yep,” he replied, his voice light but filled with a deep joy.

Lucifer’s heart fluttered as he leaned up, capturing Adam’s lips in a kiss—slow and sweet, leaving Adam breathless in the best possible way. As he pulled back, he held up his hand, twirling his clawed finger through the air, summoning a spark of golden light. A portal slowly unfurled before them, its shape an elegant oval, glowing with a soft radiance as it opened to reveal the familiar, yet somehow different, doors of the Hazbin Hotel.

Adam stepped forward, and Lucifer helped him through the glowing threshold, his hand gently at the small of Adam’s back. As they emerged on the other side, Lucifer paused, looking up at the looming structure before them. This version of the Hazbin Hotel was not quite like the one he remembered from his world. It felt like a blend of his past and present—a bridge between destruction and rebirth, but with one clear difference: the blueish hue that softened its edges, lending it an ethereal quality. The once towering red stone was now a mix of deep blue, twilight purple, and soft indigo, with hints of shimmering black that caught the light.

The grounds around the hotel were a far cry from the barren, desolate landscape Lucifer had known. Instead of the harsh, red stone and crumbling debris, there was a garden. A lush, vibrant oasis of life—flourishing trees with thick, green leaves that whispered with the wind, and flowers of every shape and colour imaginable. The blossoms were unlike anything Lucifer had seen before, hues of violet, midnight blue, and soft lavender mingling together with delicate black petals. Strange, yet breathtakingly beautiful plants sprawled in every corner, their colours reflecting the night sky as if they belonged to some otherworldly realm.

Lucifer’s gaze lingered on the vibrant life growing around them, feeling something in his chest tighten with awe. The garden, so full of life, seemed so out of place in Hell, yet it thrived with an elegance that almost felt like it had been pulled from Eden itself. The soft glow of blue and purple plants bathed the area in a gentle light, like starlight captured in the form of petals and leaves. There were small pools of water that reflected the moonlit sky, their surfaces rippling gently with the breeze. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of jasmine and lavender, and though the garden had its darker, more macabre elements—black thorns twisted up from the earth like tendrils, dark vines curling along the stone walls, and carnivorous flowers with jaws sharp enough to bite—there was a serenity to it all. The contrast of life and death, beauty and danger, only made it more captivating.

Lucifer’s mind began to race with questions. This garden—was it Adam’s influence? He couldn’t help but wonder, was Charlie also a gardener, or did she simply love this place because it reminded her of Adam? Had they tended to this garden together, perhaps in her childhood? He looked around, the beauty of it all almost overwhelming. It was a sanctuary amidst Hell’s chaos, as though the garden had been meticulously cultivated to embody peace and stillness in the face of the ever-present turmoil.

There were flowers that twinkled faintly, like little stars scattered across the bushes, while others bloomed with colours that shifted, as though they were constantly in motion. Some of the trees had dark trunks, almost black, but their leaves were a deep, lush green that shimmered in the soft light, casting shadows that played with the shifting colours of the garden.

Lucifer’s eyes were drawn to the centre of the garden, where a large tree stood—a twisted, gnarled thing with silver branches that seemed to stretch toward the heavens. From the tree hung long vines of tiny, glowing fruit, their lights pulsing like little stars—so different from the fiery, unforgiving landscape he had grown accustomed to in his world.

“This…” Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is like Eden, but…”

He trailed off, unsure of the word to capture what he was feeling.

Adam’s eyes glimmered, his lips curling into a soft smile as he looked around at the garden.

"You would have seen it earlier if you pulled yourself away from your work," Adam teased, his voice light and melodic, a soft hum in his chest as his golden eyes shone with pride.

He looked around the garden, eyes glowing with a love that radiated through every inch of the space. "Charlie and I worked hard on it. She's so amazing."

Lucifer puffed out his cheeks at Adam's words, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling up inside him. Why hadn’t his other self come to see this garden? Why hadn’t he made time for Charlie, for the world she was building here? It gnawed at him, the bitter ache of missed opportunities. He would give anything to have witnessed this, to see this beautiful space that Charlie had poured herself into, to feel this warmth, this peace. If only his Charlie had been able to create something like this, to nurture it with such love and care.

"I love it here," Adam continued, his voice gentle and thoughtful. "Charlie and I would spend so much time together here."

He closed his eyes, basking in the serenity of the garden before glancing at Lucifer. "It feels peaceful, doesn’t it?"

Lucifer nodded, forcing himself to breathe deeply, to calm the storm of emotions that raged within him. This was everything he had wanted. Everything he had dreamed of. His heart beat faster in his chest, the sensation of belonging overwhelming him. This place—this garden—felt like it was made just for him and Adam, a sanctuary born from their shared love. It was as if the garden itself was a manifestation of their connection.

He turned to Adam, his expression softening with a mixture of awe and affection.

“It’s beautiful,” Lucifer said quietly, his voice filled with tenderness. “Just like you.”

Adam blushed, the smile on his face widening as he reached out, taking Lucifer’s hand. Lucifer’s own heart swelled, and he added softly, “I know. I’ve missed a lot... but I promise to make it up to you and Charlie. I won’t miss anything else.”

Adam’s gaze softened, his golden eyes full of warmth as he squeezed Lucifer’s hand in return. “I love you.”

Lucifer returned the smile, the words flowing from his lips with a sincerity that he couldn’t hold back. “I love you too.”

They both turned toward the Hazbin Hotel’s grand doors, Adam stepping forward, ready to knock when, to Lucifer’s surprise, the door swung open before he had the chance.

Lucifer froze, his heart skipping a beat. He couldn’t breathe for a moment as he saw her—Charlie, their daughter—standing in the doorway. This world’s version of her, and yet, she was still so familiar. Her eyes glowed warmly, her lips forming a bright, loving grin that was a perfect reflection of Adam’s.

"Mum! You’re here?" Charlie’s voice was filled with excitement, her expression a mixture of joy and disbelief. "I was going to pick you up!"

Adam let out a sheepish laugh, his cheeks colouring as he scratched the back of his neck. "I know, but we thought we’d surprise you, so... surprise!"

Charlie’s eyes flickered between Adam and Lucifer, her smile faltering for a brief moment as she glanced at her father.

“Dad?!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with shock. “You’re here too? But I thought you had too much work to do?”

Her gaze softened almost immediately, a hint of confusion and curiosity in her eyes as she took in the sight of Lucifer standing there.

Lucifer stood frozen, the weight of the moment settling in. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked at Charlie—his daughter, this world’s version of her. She was so much like Adam, and yet... so uniquely her own person. The recognition in her eyes, the warmth of her grin, it all hit him like a wave. He could feel a lump in his throat, the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He had been absent for so long, for too long, and now—now here he was, finally seeing her.

“Surprised?” Lucifer’s voice was thick, but he fought to keep the emotion from his tone.

He stepped forward, his hand still holding Adam’s, but his gaze focused entirely on Charlie now. His heart was still racing, but in a different way. The bond between father and daughter, though new and strange, felt instant and powerful.

Charlie’s eyes softened as she stepped forward, reaching out to Adam first with an affectionate hug, then turning to her father, her gaze still filled with wonder and warmth.

"I didn’t expect you to come here. I thought... well, I thought you'd be too busy with your work," she said, her voice quiet now as she stood before him.

Lucifer, still processing the sight of his daughter standing there, felt something shift inside him. The rawness of the moment was almost too much. His lips parted as he tried to find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, his voice low but filled with honesty. “I’ve been... preoccupied with other things, but that’s no excuse.”

He took a step forward, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder, an instinctual act of closeness. "I’m here now. I won’t miss any more of these moments. I promise."

Charlie blinked, her eyes glistening as she looked up at him, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"You’re here now, and that’s all that matters." Her voice was soft, full of understanding. "I’m glad you’re here, Dad."

The words hit Lucifer like a wave, and he nodded, his heart swelling with a bittersweet mix of relief and joy. He stood taller, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. Adam, standing beside him, smiled as he gazed at the two of them, his heart swelling with pride.

Charlie gracefully stepped back, a radiant smile lighting up her face as she gestured for both Lucifer and Adam to enter.

"I'm so excited for you two to be here!" she said brightly, her voice warm and welcoming. The way she spoke, the energy in her tone, was so familiar, yet there was something undeniably different about her.

Lucifer trailed behind Adam, his eyes quietly studying Charlie as she hooked her arm with Adam's without hesitation. He couldn’t help but notice how she held herself, her aura confident and poised. There was a calm authority in her presence, but also a softness, a gentleness, that made her her. And yet, the longer he watched her, the more he realized that Charlie—his daughter—wasn't exactly the same as the one he had known.

Charlie, much like everything else in this dimension, was different. She was familiar, but yet unfamiliar. She was still Charlie—his Charlie—but not exactly his Charlie. The subtle differences were apparent the moment he took in her appearance.

She still had the same tall, slim build, her pale white skin the signature of a hellborn demon. Her hair, now a soft hazelnut hue, cascaded to her ankles in smooth waves, with thin streaks of light coral blending into paler brown highlights. It was tied in a low ponytail with two black bands, the strands framing her face in soft curls, and her bangs flipped to the left side with a gentle curve. Lucifer couldn't help but notice how her eyes—those yellow sclera with their crimson red pupils—held a certain calmness that was both endearing and powerful. The thick lashes and purple eyelids were familiar, yet her overall expression was more serene, less volatile than the Charlie he remembered.

The most startling detail came when Lucifer noticed the black animal-like nose she shared with Adam. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him. Did Adam’s nose come from here? he wondered, studying Charlie’s features. Her blue-toed hooves, the fangs that peeked from her mouth, the pointed black nails—these were still her traits, of course. But there was an air about her now that felt different. Less chaotic, more controlled.

And then, there was what she wore. Unlike the Charlie he knew from his world, this Charlie's clothing reflected her new sense of authority, a professional edge that matched the maturity Lucifer had seen in the garden. Like him, she wore a black tuxedo-style jacket with dark blue lapels, the jacket unbuttoned in a laid-back yet still polished way.

On the left side of her chest, a small white tag caught the light, perhaps a mark of distinction, or just an aesthetic touch. Underneath, a blue waistcoat added depth to the outfit, paired with a crisp white dress shirt. She didn’t wear the small, cute bowtie he remembered, but rather a sleek, black tie that complemented the overall professional vibe. Her dress pants were black, with a thin blue stripe running up the sides, making the outfit even more striking.

Lucifer noticed the blue cuffs at the sleeves of her blazer, the elegant and understated details that elevated her look. And on her feet were white saddle shoes, the toes and heel tips black, a blend of practicality and style that still somehow managed to look refined.

Charlie was adorable, undeniably beautiful, and her appearance exuded a subtle air of authority. She had clearly grown into herself in this dimension, a far cry from the more innocent, chaotic version he had known. The change was striking, but not in a way that made her unrecognizable. It made her seem more... complete. And Lucifer found himself wondering if this Charlie, this version of his daughter, was different in ways that went beyond her appearance.

He glanced at Adam, who had a proud smile on his face as he walked beside Charlie. The warmth in Adam’s eyes as he looked at her was a silent affirmation that this was their reality. Their life together in this dimension.

"Wow," Lucifer muttered, mostly to himself, his voice soft but filled with awe. "Charlie, you’ve done amazing things here."

Charlie turned back to him with a radiant grin.

"Thank you, Dad," she said, her voice laced with affection. "It means so much that you’re here now."

Lucifer's heart swelled at the sound of her words. Dad. That one simple word carried so much weight, so much unspoken emotion. And yet, in this dimension, he felt like he could finally begin to understand the bond he had with her—this other version of Charlie, and the new dynamic that came with it.

He stepped forward, his eyes scanning the surroundings one more time, before he reached out, gently taking Charlie's arm in a gesture of solidarity, of acknowledgment.

"This place... it feels like home," Lucifer murmured softly, looking at Adam and then back to Charlie. "And I’m proud of you, both of you."

Charlie smiled warmly at him, her expression filled with a mixture of gratitude and love. “I’m just happy you’re here, Dad.”

As they moved further into the hotel, the atmosphere felt different than it had in Lucifer’s own dimension. The walls were warm and inviting, bathed in soft, golden lighting. Everything felt purposeful, yet cozy.

Charlie had built this place with love, and it radiated in the air. Lucifer could feel it in every corner, in the very atmosphere of the hotel. The gardens outside, the thoughtful decor inside—it was all a reflection of the life Adam and Charlie had created here.

And for the first time in a long time, Lucifer felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Not just in this dimension, but with them—his family. And as they walked deeper into the hotel, together, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the past slip away, replaced by something far more powerful. Love.

Charlie beamed with excitement as she led them through the hotel, her energy barely contained despite the professional edge she maintained.

"I’m so glad you're here, both of you! Welcome to my home." Her tone was warm, yet there was a confidence to her voice that spoke of pride and purpose.

Lucifer couldn't help but notice the stark difference in this version of the Hazbin Hotel. It didn’t have the chaotic, disjointed feel of the one in his own dimension. This place, every room and hallway, had been thoughtfully curated. There was no mishmash of clashing styles, no broken elements haphazardly thrown together. Every inch of the hotel exuded an air of professionalism, yet there was an undeniable charm—a mysterious, cozy allure that made it feel inviting.

As they walked through the expansive lobby, Lucifer’s eyes were drawn to the rich blues and purples that washed the space. The walls, though adorned with intricate patterns, were sleek and polished. The floor was a soft, plush carpet in deep violet, and the polished beams above gave the room an open, airy feeling. Everywhere he looked, there was a sense of refinement—nothing felt out of place.

The lounge area was especially striking, the colour scheme of the room not just sophisticated but soothing. Soft blue lighting emanated from lanterns that floated lazily in the air, their gentle glow reflecting off the smooth surfaces around them. The furniture was modern yet comfortable, plush seating in varying shades of blue and purple, arranged in intimate clusters. And though it had the atmosphere of a well-designed space, it wasn’t sterile or cold. It was the kind of place one could relax in and feel at home, even in Hell.

Charlie led them further through the hotel, pausing here and there to speak about the different rooms they passed. Lucifer noticed the subtle contrast in each area—some had elegant glass floors that shimmered as they walked, others had warm wooden panels that gave the space a grounded, natural feel. There was an elevator, sleek and shiny, with silver accents, its design futuristic yet fitting for the mysterious hotel they were walking through.

"Each room is carefully crafted to give a different experience," Charlie explained, her professional tone almost as though she were giving a tour to an important guest.

"Nothing is by accident. Every detail matters." She waved her hand around the lobby as if it were an extension of herself. "I wanted it to feel like a home, but one that had purpose."

Lucifer smiled and nodded, thoroughly impressed. “It’s beautiful, Charlie. Truly. You’ve outdone yourself.”

As they moved through the halls, Lucifer couldn't help but glance around at everything with admiration. Unlike the chaotic atmosphere of his own Hazbin Hotel, this one felt complete. There was no unfinished business, no rushed repairs. This was a space meant to be lived in, built with care and attention to detail.

They passed a room that caught Lucifer's attention—a bar, but one that was more sophisticated than the lounge's former setup. This bar had its own dedicated space, separate from the main area, and it seemed to belong there in a way that made the old bar look almost makeshift.

“Here’s the bar,” Charlie continued, ushering them inside. “It has its own space now, so it’s less disruptive. It’s a bit more... refined.”

Her smile was almost mischievous. “You’ll have to try it later.”

Lucifer, taking it all in, gave her a genuine smile. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

It was strange to feel this way about the hotel. He remembered the first time he’d seen his own version of the Hazbin Hotel—the moment he had tried to tear it down in front of Charlie. This place, however, felt different. It felt right. And it made him realize just how much his other self had neglected to appreciate.

As they wandered deeper into the hotel, Charlie suddenly stopped and turned to them.

 "Oh! Before we go any further, I want you to meet someone," she said, her tone suddenly more cheerful than professional.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. Just then, a figure emerged from one of the rooms—another familiar face, but not one he had expected to see. A woman, her wings folded behind her, eyes glowing with a calm, yet intense light. She had striking greyish-lavender skin, her features sharp, yet undeniably graceful.

"Dad, this is Vaggie," Charlie said, her voice full of pride. "My girlfriend."

For a split second, Lucifer nearly blurted out that he already knew Vaggie, that she had been introduced to him before. But then it hit him—this was the first time he was meeting her. This was the first time he or his other self had stepped foot into this version of the Hazbin Hotel, and everything—everyone—was different.

Vaggie stood before them, a striking figure who, though familiar, exuded an aura of both elegance and strength. Her greyish-lavender skin shimmered slightly in the ambient light, a subtle moth-themed design tracing the outline of her features. Her knee-length hair cascaded down in soft waves of greyish-white, the faded purple tips gently curling as they met the air. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail with a blue ribbon, the strands flowing smoothly, save for the long-jagged bangs that framed the left side of her face, hiding part of her features in an almost mysterious way.

Lucifer's gaze naturally fell to her eyes, noting the contrast between the two. Her right eye had a soft pink sclera with a warm ivory iris, shimmering with a calm intensity, while her left eye was hidden beneath a slate-gray eyepatch, marked with a red-pink “X” shape that gave her an air of quiet mystery. The small fangs visible when she spoke only added to the fierce beauty that radiated from her, her black lips adding a touch of sharpness to her otherwise delicate features.

Her clothing was another detail that set this version of Vaggie apart. She wore a pale blue short-sleeved blouse that hugged her slim frame, a stark contrast to the deep blacks of her wardrobe. Over this, she wore a black waistcoat, cinched just enough to accentuate her slender figure, the edges of the waistcoat cut precisely. A delicate black ribbon, tied into a bow, sat at the back of her neck, adding a soft femininity to her otherwise sharp appearance.

Her lower half was adorned in a black miniskirt, paired with light criss-crossing black and blue tights, and she wore a set of fingerless opera gloves that were a perfect match for the colour scheme—light blue, matching the subtle undertones in her outfit. She moved with a fluid grace, the design of her clothing blending both professionalism and a sense of personal style, making her look every bit the powerful figure she was.

Lucifer’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, the realization dawning that this version of Vaggie, like everything else in this dimension, was both familiar and new. The Vaggie he knew had always been strong, but this one seemed more at ease, more confident in herself, her presence commanding respect while still maintaining that same soft edge that made her undeniably approachable. The changes in her appearance and attire hinted at a life that had evolved—one that had brought her to a place of balance and power.

Vaggie’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, soft yet respectful.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” she said, bowing her head slightly, her posture formal yet not stiff.

Lucifer, surprised by the respect she was showing him, cleared his throat. Her formality, unlike the more casual tone he was used to from his world’s Vaggie, left him feeling both honoured and unsure of how to respond.

Lucifer froze for a moment, unsure of how to react. The respect she showed him felt... foreign, but not unpleasant. It was clear that in this dimension, the dynamics were different. The Vaggie from his world had never treated him with the kind of reverence she showed him now, and it left him feeling oddly flustered.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to seem too awkward.

"It’s nice to meet you, Maggie," he said automatically, before he could stop himself.

At the sound of his slip, all three of them spoke at once, correcting him.

"It’s Vaggie," they said in unison, a mix of bemusement and mild amusement in their voices.

Lucifer blinked, slightly flustered. "Oh... right, sorry about that, um, Vaggie," he said sheepishly, looking around at the others.

Vaggie smiled, though there was a slight flush to her cheeks as she shook her head. “It’s okay, sir.”

Lucifer, still not entirely sure of what to make of the situation, leaned forward, offering a gentle smile. “You don’t need to be so formal around me. Please, relax.”

Vaggie looked surprised by his words, her eyes flickering with a brief moment of doubt.

“R-Really?” she asked hesitantly.

Lucifer gave her a reassuring nod, smiling warmly. “Yes, of course. We’re practically family now.”

His words were genuine, and as he said them, he realized that this dimension felt like a place where he could finally relax, where he could find his place among the people who mattered most to him.

Charlie smiled shyly at her girlfriend, clearly pleased by Lucifer’s words. Vaggie hesitated for a moment, but then she let out a small, relieved laugh, her shoulders relaxing.

“Okay, sir—um, Lucifer,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you."

Charlie’s eyes flickered nervously toward Adam, her gaze pleading for reassurance, while Vaggie quietly inched closer to her, sensing the tension in the air. Adam inhaled deeply, his breath steady and composed, before he nodded in silent understanding. He took a step forward, his voice low and soothing, like a melody meant to calm the storm inside Lucifer’s soul.

"Luci," Adam began, the name almost like a caress, gentle but laden with unspoken weight. "There's one more thing... you should know."

Lucifer’s brow furrowed, his senses sharpening as he caught the subtle tension in the room. He tilted his head, curious, yet guarded, the shift in atmosphere not lost on him. He flicked his gaze over the group, noting the strange expressions, the silent communication between Charlie and Vaggie.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice dripping with both suspicion and anticipation.

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a look—an unreadable one—before Charlie turned back to Adam, her expression a fragile blend of hope and worry. Adam smiled softly, his fingers gently brushing against Lucifer's hand.

Lucifer stiffened at the contact, his gaze snapping to Adam in confusion, but Adam didn’t break eye contact.

"About Vaggie," he began, his voice turning serious, his words deliberate. "There’s just one more thing you need to know. And you have to promise me, Luci, you won’t... freak out. Don’t get all dramatic, or start trying to pull some ‘authority’ nonsense like you usually do."

"Drama?" Lucifer arched a brow in mock surprise. "Authority? Me?"

His lips curled into a playful smirk, though the flicker of curiosity in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Adam’s gaze never wavered. "Promise me."

Lucifer sighed, rolling his eyes before he nodded. "Alright, alright. Whatever it is, I won’t see any of you differently."

But a flicker of unease crossed his face, his gaze shifting toward Vaggie, who remained unreadable, her eyes dark with unspoken thoughts.

"Is it about Vaggie being a fallen angel?" he asked nonchalantly, though a trace of knowing lingered in his voice.

Charlie gasped, her eyes wide in shock. "You—how do you know that?"

Her voice cracked slightly, as though the very mention of it was a secret she’d thought buried long ago.

Lucifer blinked, realization striking him like a bolt of lightning. He hadn't meant to reveal so much, so easily. But then again, he'd always had an uncanny ability to see through the veils others wore. He smiled, a lazy, knowing grin spreading across his face.

"It’s not rocket science," he said with a shrug. "I mean, I’ve always been able to spot another angel. Or rather, a fallen angel."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I’m a Seraphim—one of the highest-ranking angels there are. I can pinpoint another angel, halo or no halo, wings or no wings."

Charlie exhaled sharply, as though the breath had been held for far too long. She leaned heavily into Vaggie, who, despite her usual stoic demeanour, looked visibly shaken by the revelation.

Lucifer’s smile softened, a glimmer of affection for his daughter, and he added with a playful wink, "But hey, I don’t care if you’re a fallen angel, Vaggie. As long as my daughter’s happy, that’s all that matters to me."

Charlie’s face lit up with relief, the tension easing from her shoulders. It was as though the weight of the world had lifted off her chest. The fear she’d carried was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted, suddenly thoughtful. He didn’t quite understand the dynamic between Adam, Charlie, and Vaggie, but something tugged at the corners of his mind. Was the other version of him—the original Lucifer—so cold-hearted that he would disapprove of such things? Perhaps it was his prejudice against fallen angels that had kept him distant, or maybe there was more to the story. He shifted his attention back to Vaggie, his curiosity piqued.

"I also know you were... or maybe still are, an exorcist," Lucifer said, his finger lightly pointing at the faint X mark near Vaggie’s eye, a mark that carried the history of bloodshed and exorcisms. "Judging by the symbol on your face, I’d say I’m right."

Vaggie stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.

"And... you’re... okay with that?" she asked, her voice small, almost uncertain.

Lucifer’s shrug was nonchalant, but his eyes were warm with understanding. "Sure, I’m fine with it. I mean, Charlie’s forgiven you, so I’m not going to hold it against you. You were doing what you thought was right at the time. Who am I to judge?"

The relief that washed over Vaggie was palpable. She let out a long, deep breath, as though something had broken loose inside her chest. Her posture relaxed, and she bowed her head in silent gratitude, though her eyes still held traces of vulnerability.

Lucifer glanced over at Adam, seeking some sort of confirmation, a silent approval. Adam’s gaze met his with an expression so full of love and warmth that Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat. There was a soft affection in Adam’s eyes, a tenderness that Lucifer couldn’t help but return.

The world around them seemed to fade for a moment. For once, Lucifer felt... seen. Not as the devil or a fallen angel, but as someone who was wanted, cherished, and understood.

Adam’s lips curved into a smile, full of affection, and Lucifer’s own lips followed suit, the two of them locked in a moment of unspoken connection. The air between them buzzed with something more, something deeper than simple affection—a bond that only they understood.

Despite the sudden sense of calm that had settled over Charlie and Vaggie, Lucifer couldn’t shake the feeling that something still hung heavily in the air. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there—an undercurrent of tension that clung to the room like a shroud. They were both standing straighter than usual, their movements deliberate, cautious even.

Charlie, usually so warm and open, seemed almost unnaturally poised, her fingers fiddling with the edges of her coat. Vaggie, normally fierce and unapologetic, kept her distance, her posture rigid, her eyes darting as though expecting something to happen at any moment. It was as if they were walking on eggshells, careful not to disturb the fragile balance that had settled between them.

Lucifer’s brow furrowed, and he cast a quick, uneasy glance at Adam, searching for some sign that he wasn’t the only one sensing the oddness in the air. Adam smiled at him, that same soft, reassuring smile that always made Lucifer’s chest tighten. But even as Adam’s expression seemed filled with warmth, Lucifer couldn’t shake the nagging sense of discomfort that lingered at the edges of his thoughts.

It was like he had stumbled into someone else’s life—a life that didn’t quite fit. Was it because of him? Or was it because of the other Lucifer? The one who had ruled this place with an iron fist, the one whose presence seemed to overshadow everything in the room, even now. He knew, without a doubt, that the Lucifer of this universe was far different from the one he had once been. The king of Hell—the devil—had been more domineering, more authoritative. This version, however, was... different. Gentler, softer in a way that almost unsettled him.

"Um..." Lucifer started, his voice suddenly awkward, uncertain. He glanced over at Adam again, his gaze asking silently if he, too, could feel the strange distance that had fallen between them. Adam simply gave him a warm smile, though there was a flicker of something else—an emotion Lucifer couldn’t quite place.

Before he could ask any more questions, as if the universe itself had decided to throw a wrench into the awkwardness of the moment, a shadow slid across the far wall, its movement liquid, serpentine. Lucifer's gaze snapped to it instantly, and he braced himself. The air shifted, charged with a dark energy. The ground beneath them seemed to hum with an unsettling force as the shadow grew, curling around the edges of the room before it solidified into a form. And there, standing in front of them, was Alastor.

The Radio Demon.

Lucifer’s stomach sank as the familiar figure appeared. Alastor’s wide grin split his face in a grotesque way, his red eyes glowing with a malevolent gleam. His presence was unmistakable—sharp, unsettling, and somehow mocking.

"Ah, you must be the one I've heard so much about," Alastor said with a voice that sounded like it had been pulled from a thousand static broadcasts, smooth and cold. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence, hm?"

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and despite the unsettling familiarity of Alastor’s voice, he stood tall, uncrossing his arms just long enough to give a pointed look at the radio demon.

"And who might you be?" Lucifer asked, his tone smooth but laced with a cold amusement. He crossed his arms once more, offering Alastor a tight-lipped grin and showing just enough of his sharp teeth to let the demon know he wasn’t intimidated.

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with territorial malice. There was a possessiveness in the air, a strange, almost desperate need for dominance over the hotel that radiated off him. Lucifer picked up on it instantly, though he would never show it. This was his domain now, not some other version of him self’s.

With an almost imperceptible tilt of his head, Lucifer smirked. "Well, it seems that my arrival has been long-awaited. What is it? Some kind of bellhop?"

Charlie’s laugh was awkward, a little too high-pitched. Her discomfort was palpable, but she tried, gently, to diffuse the situation.

"Alastor, please be nice," she murmured quietly, though her voice quivered slightly.

"Haha!" Alastor let out a harsh, mocking laugh, his grin spreading even further as if he were enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

 "Not quite! I am the esteemed host of this fine establishment. Perhaps you’ve heard of me through my radio broadcasts?" He leaned forward slightly, his smugness clear.

Lucifer’s response was immediate and cutting. He couldn’t resist the urge to taunt.

"Oh, that explains why Charlie named it the 'Hazbin Hotel,' doesn’t it?" Lucifer quipped, giving a sharp, biting laugh. "Ha-ha!"

Alastor’s expression faltered for the briefest of moments before it returned to that ever-present, mocking grin. His stance shifted, his glowing eyes narrowing as he leaned casually against his radio staff, his fingers tapping rhythmically.

"Fuck you," he spat with venom, his voice dripping with disdain.

Charlie flinched at the exchange, looking between the two of them in sheer panic.

"Mummmmm, please,” she whined, her hands shaking as she pulled at her coat nervously. Charlie glanced towards Adam, “They’re gonna destroy my hotel!"

 Vaggie, ever the protector, stepped forward and rubbed her back gently, trying to soothe her in the face of the growing hostility.

Adam, ever the optimist, tried to reassure her with a sheepish smile. "No, they won’t—"

Before he could finish, a loud explosion interrupted his words. The wall to the left of them shuddered violently as a massive hole tore through it, the debris falling like confetti around them. The sound of the blast echoed through the room, the force of it shaking the very foundation of the hotel.

Lucifer blinked, holding up his claws defensively.

"I didn’t do it!" he called out quickly, his voice tinged with mock innocence. "It was... what did you say your name was again? Bami?"

He tilted his head with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

Alastor’s face scrunched up in outrage at the name, his eyes narrowing into slits. He looked ready to pounce, his grin faltering for the briefest moment.

Charlie, meanwhile, stood frozen, her expression one of absolute horror, her body trembling as she looked desperately at Adam, as if seeking a solution to the escalating chaos.

"Please, someone stop this," she pleaded.

But Lucifer couldn’t help but smile. Whatever strange tension had plagued him earlier, whatever sense of unease had clung to the air—he could feel it lifting. If only for a moment, he was ready to embrace this new world, this new challenge.

Adam was still reeling from the explosion in the wall, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to process the tension in the room. His hands were shaking slightly, and his mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening between Lucifer and Alastor. He had never seen his husband act so territorial, so... possessive.

He had always known Lucifer to be authoritative, yes. But this? This was something different. Adam had never seen his partner act like this—furious, defensive, and so willing to go to war over something as seemingly trivial as an interaction with another demon. Then again, Lucifer had always been confined to his office, buried in his duties, ruling Hell with cold detachment. Maybe he’d never had a reason to show this side of himself. Maybe he had always been like this, and Adam had simply never seen it.

It made Adam’s chest tighten, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but admire how fiercely Lucifer was acting. He stepped forward, hoping to de-escalate the situation before it became something far worse than it already was.

"Um, Lucifer, Alastor, I think that’s—" Adam started, but his voice was immediately drowned out by Alastor, who was already stepping forward, a mischievous glint in his glowing red eyes.

“Well, well, well,” Alastor purred smoothly, his voice like honey dripping from his tongue, “Adam. It’s such a pleasure to see you again.”

His eyes glittered as he eyed Adam, and before Lucifer could react, Alastor smoothly glided toward him, his movements so graceful, it was almost like a dance. Adam found himself momentarily caught off guard by the way Alastor's charm oozed from every word and gesture.

“How are you, my dear? How is the little one? I trust you’ve been taking care of yourself?” Alastor continued, his words soft, almost flirty.

He leaned in just enough to be close, his gaze searching Adam's face as if he could read his every thought. “You look tired, darling. Surely Lucifer hasn't been working you to the bone? Surely, you haven't been on your feet all day?”

Adam was flustered, unsure how to respond. The gentle warmth in Alastor's voice was completely different from the way he normally spoke to him. Alastor was never rude, mean or cold towards him, but he was never…like this. It was unsettling.

“Oh, I—uh, I’m fine,” Adam stammered, his face flushing as he stepped back a little, caught in the radio demon's spell. "Lucifer, I—"

But before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by Alastor’s cool, calculated gaze. The demon casually sent a glance toward Lucifer, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

“Tell me, Adam," Alastor continued, his voice silky as ever, "Has your beloved husband been taking care of you properly? I do hope he's been looking after your health, dear. It wouldn't do for you to be too worn out, after all."

Alastor's eyes flicked back to Lucifer, the unspoken taunt hanging heavily in the air.

Adam’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, unsure of how to respond. His eyes darted nervously to Lucifer, who was standing stone-still, but the tension was strong.

Lucifer's eyes widened, his pupils dilating as his gaze locked on Alastor’s every movement. He felt a sudden surge of something that made his stomach churn—not jealousy... maybe it was more like outrage. He didn’t even realize when he moved—only that in the next instant, he was wedging himself between Adam and Alastor, his body pressed forward in a clear, protective gesture.

“No, no, no, you don’t do that,” Lucifer hissed, his voice strained and sharp as he glared up at Alastor, his chest puffed out with indignation. “You don’t touch my Adam! And not that it is any of your business, I always take care of my Adam!”

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. There it was—the crack he’d been waiting for. His lips curled into a wider, even more taunting grin.

“Oh? Is that so?” Alastor’s voice was rich with mocking amusement.

He stepped forward again, easily sidestepping Lucifer, his shoulder bumping Lucifer’s chest as though the fallen angel were nothing more than a slight inconvenience. Alastor closed the distance between himself and Adam once more, completely undeterred, his hand reaching out as though to gently touch Adam’s arm.

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat, the vein in his neck pulsing with frustration and fury. He could feel his own irritation bubbling to the surface. The more Alastor pushed him aside, the more his chest tightened in some deep, primal way.

“Oi! I said don’t touch him!” he growled, “Don’t talk to him so personally either!”

Charlie and Vaggie stood by the sidelines, watching with wide eyes. Vaggie looked at Charlie, her gaze full of confusion as she leaned in closer to her.

“I thought you said your dad was pretty cold and... cares too much about his image?” she whispered, her tone soft and unsure. “Like…married to his job first, then your Mum and then you?”

Charlie awkwardly scratched the back of her neck, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “Um, he is—or was, or... I don't really know. I’ve never seen him act like this before.”

Vaggie raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the scene unfolding in front of her. “Well, he’s certainly not holding back now.”

Meanwhile, Lucifer’s chest heaved with each angry breath, his body trembling as Alastor’s fingers brushed Adam’s shoulder. Every movement of the radio demon’s was like a calculated strike at his pride, and Lucifer’s jealousy burned hot and fierce. It was strange—unfamiliar. He had never felt this intense need to claim someone before, let alone in front of others. He was a king, a ruler of Hell... wasn’t he supposed to be above such things?

But Alastor's smirk, that gleaming, dangerous look in his eyes... it was a provocation, and Lucifer could feel the bite of it in every part of him. He clenched his fists at his sides, his wings twitching in agitation, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Not yet.

Alastor had found his weakness. And Lucifer wasn’t sure if he hated it... or if he wanted to fight back. It was the same thing Alastor did back in his dimension with Charlie! Being another father figure for Charlie just to mock him!

Vaggie gasped, her eyes darting toward Adam, then nudging Charlie with urgency.

"Charlie," she whispered in alarm, "I think your mum's getting overwhelmed!"

Charlie whipped her head around to look at Adam, who was now shuffling his feet, visibly caught between the escalating tension of his husband and Alastor. The two demons continued to exchange mocking, pointed remarks, and Adam’s patience finally wore thin. Swallowing deeply, he placed a gentle but firm hand on Alastor’s chest, trying to ease him back.

“Um, that’s enough,” Adam said, his voice steady but weary. “Alastor, you've never shown that much interest in me before. You’re just doing this to mess with Lucifer, aren’t you?”

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction at Adam’s insight, a feeling of vindication washing over him. Finally! Somebody else saw Alastor’s shameless attempts at baiting him.

But Alastor’s face twisted into a theatrically pained expression, placing a hand on his chest as though wounded.

“Mess with Lucifer?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “Why, Adam, you wound me! My interest in you is sincere. Your charm is as radiant as the sun—any demon worth his salt would see that.”

His voice softened, gaze meeting Adam’s in a way that bordered on tenderness. “After all, Hell’s a cold place. It could use a touch of warmth.”

Lucifer’s expression shifted, his face twisting with irritation. He’d had enough of Alastor’s sweet-talking. Stepping forward, he jabbed a finger toward the radio demon, his eyes narrowing with anger.

“Back off, Alastor. Adam doesn’t need any of your slimy charm,” he growled, his tone dark and dangerous.

“Oh?” Alastor replied, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he met Lucifer’s fury with an amused glint.

“Is that... jealousy I hear? From the oh-so-calm and collected Lucifer Morningstar?” He smirked, clearly revelling in the way he was getting under Lucifer’s skin.

Adam, exasperated, stepped between the two, his face flushed with frustration. “Can’t we just—”

But he stopped short as a sharp, sudden pain shot through him. His face twisted in discomfort, and his hand instinctively flew to his stomach as he stumbled back, grimacing.

Charlie gasped and immediately rushed to his side, her eyes wide with concern.

“Mum, are you okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

Vaggie moved to help, wrapping an arm around Adam and gently guiding him over to one of the plush, blue leather sofas.

“You really should rest, Mum,” Vaggie said softly, her hand a steadying presence on Adam’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t be overworking yourself like this.”

Adam managed a weak smile, trying to reassure them. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

But he winced as another pain rippled through him, sharper this time, and he clenched his jaw to stifle a groan.

Charlie’s worry deepened. “Mum, are you in pain? What’s wrong?”

Adam let out a small chuckle, though his voice was strained. “It’s just... Braxton Hicks…”

“Fake contractions. They happen when…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced away, his cheeks colouring.

“When?” Vaggie prompted gently.

Adam sighed, looking sheepish. “When I’m stressed or overwhelmed.”

Charlie’s face hardened, her expression sharpening as her eyes darted to the scene unfolding behind her. Another loud crash sounded as Lucifer and Alastor clashed once more, their voices raised and their power radiating dangerously through the air. Keekee, their little demon pet, scrambled up the sofa to sit beside Adam, nudging him protectively.

Straightening herself, Charlie took a deep breath, feeling a new surge of authority bubble within her. She squared her shoulders, her demonic ruby and golden eyes flashing as they started to bleed into a deep red. Her hair began to slip free of its ribbons and swirled around her face like snakes, horns sprouting from the top of her head as she turned on her heels to face the two unruly demons.

“That’s enough!” she roared, her voice echoing through the hotel lobby like a thunderclap.

Her face was fierce, a new, formidable power radiating from her as she stomped toward the two demons. She grabbed Alastor’s tie, yanking him down to her level, and then tugged Lucifer’s collar, pulling him upward.

“Listen up, you two,” Charlie snarled, her voice dark and dripping with authority. “You are not fighting in my fucking hotel!”

Her grip tightened, and she yanked them both closer, her fiery eyes narrowing with dangerous intensity. “And I want that hole in my wall fixed—right fucking now! Do you understand me?”

Both Alastor and Lucifer nodded quickly, unable to form words as they stared at her with a mixture of surprise and begrudging respect. Charlie’s sharp teeth gleamed as she bared them in warning.

“And I swear to Satan,” she continued, her voice a low, dangerous growl, “If I catch you two having another pissing contest, I will personally cut off your dick and balls!”

Lucifer straightened himself as Charlie released him, smoothing his slick black suit and adjusting his tie, casting a dry look in Alastor’s direction. Alastor mirrored him, straightening his own attire with a sardonic grin as though they hadn’t just been thoroughly scolded by Hell’s princess.

Then, a shadowy tendril slipped up from the ground beside Alastor, creeping over to the wall to begin repairing the hole. Lucifer watched with amusement as Alastor’s magic inched over the crack, dark energy spilling and swirling as the wall slowly started to mend. Lucifer waited until Alastor’s magic spread across the damage, then raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Golden light washed over the wall, instantly erasing the crack as if it had never been there.

Alastor shot Lucifer a scathing look, his form dissolving momentarily into shadow before reappearing a few steps away. Lucifer smirked, basking in his small victory.

As he turned, his gaze landed on Charlie, who stood with arms crossed, glaring at the two of them. A faint flush crept up Lucifer’s cheeks. Seeing Charlie take charge with such authority—she truly was the princess of Hell. She had grown so much; her confidence radiated from her in a way that made him proud. She was still the same Charlie, his Charlie, yet stronger.

But then, his gaze drifted to Adam, seated on the couch nearby with Vaggie crouched beside him. Adam rubbed his stomach, a bit flushed as he tried to reassure Vaggie. Instantly, Lucifer’s face paled, and he teleported in a blink of golden light to Adam’s side, grabbing his hands.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Lucifer’s words tumbled out, concern and fear flashing in his eyes. "Do you need to lie down? Anything you need, I’ll make it happen."

Adam gave a small, sheepish smile. "I’m fine, really. Just… fake contractions."

He paused, glancing at Vaggie and Charlie, who were watching him closely. Leaning in, he lowered his voice to a hush, meant only for Lucifer. "It’s not like the first time… honestly.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he nodded, his voice dropping to match Adam’s. "Okay, okay... as long as you’re alright. You’re not still in pain, right?"

Adam squeezed Lucifer’s hand. "No, no, it’s passed. They come and go. I’ve been having them for the past month now."

He gave a wry smile, one that hinted at something he hadn’t shared before.

Lucifer’s breath hitched, his gaze hardening with quiet anger. Had Adam been keeping this from him? Had the other Lucifer been so closed off that Adam didn’t feel comfortable telling him about something as important as this?

The thought darkened his expression. “You should have told me, Addie. I wish you’d told me.”

Adam shrugged helplessly, a faint guilt in his eyes. "You were busy, that’s all. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

A pang hit Lucifer, but he softened his tone, reaching up to brush a hand against Adam’s cheek. “I’m never too busy for you.”

His voice was laced with sincerity, and Adam flushed, clearly taken aback. From behind, they heard two soft “Aww”s, and both Lucifer and Adam turned to see Charlie and Vaggie watching, grinning at the display of affection.

Adam cleared his throat, breaking the moment with a bashful smile. "I… think I might need to lie down now. Today has been a bit too… fun for me.”

Charlie stepped forward, her face lighting up with excitement. “Do you want to go to your room, Mum? Niffty’s been keeping it spotless.”

She took his other hand, her smile warm and full of affection.

Adam leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Lucifer puffed out his chest, straightening himself again as though preparing for duty.

“I’ll go with you,” he announced, ready to accompany him and keep an eye on him.

Adam shook his head, giving him a patient smile. “No, you should stay and spend some time with Charlie. You two haven’t had any father-daughter time in so long.”

He gave Lucifer’s hand a final squeeze, and Lucifer hesitated, glancing over at Charlie, who was suddenly looking bashfully off to the side, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. Vaggie offered an encouraging smile in Charlie’s direction.

Lucifer’s desire to stay with Adam nearly overwhelmed him, but seeing the hopeful expression on Charlie’s face, he softened. Of course, he wanted to spend time with her. Breathing out a resigned sigh, he nodded, eyes warm.

“Alright. But if anything happens—if you even feel a slight discomfort—you’ll let me know, okay?”

Adam beamed up at him, squeezing his hand once more. “Of course. I promise.”

With one last lingering glance, Lucifer finally pulled away, watching as Adam allowed himself to be guided toward the stairs by Vaggie. Then he turned to Charlie, his gaze settling on her with a softer, prouder look.

“So… what do you want to do, Princess?” he asked, offering his arm to her.

Charlie’s eyes sparkled, and she took his arm eagerly.

"Well, I think we have a very overdue talk to be had,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. "And maybe we can keep the pissing contests to a minimum this time?”

Lucifer chuckled, pulling her close. “For you, Charlie, I’ll do my best.”

Lucifer walked beside Charlie, making a concerted effort to ask about her life in small, thoughtful ways, slipping questions into their conversation that gave him glimpses of this version of his daughter’s world. Her responses were heartfelt and animated, and as he listened, he found himself both charmed and unsettled. This version of himself… was less engaged, distant. He kept learning small things that he should’ve known—a favourite haunt, an idea she’d shared with him once, years ago. And yet, Charlie didn’t seem to notice his inquiries. She was simply thrilled to be by his side, and it made his chest ache with pride and regret.

They soon reached a quiet hallway lined with twenty magnificent, golden-framed oil paintings, each with astonishing detail and care. Lucifer stopped, his eyes widening as he took them in. Each portrait depicted a sinner, but instead of twisted cruelty or anguish, there was a strange serenity, a quiet pride on their faces. The glow in the portraits was almost holy.

Charlie watched him anxiously, her hands clasped nervously. “These… these are my redeemed souls.”

He snapped his head around to look at her, shock plain on his face. “You really did it?” His voice was barely a whisper. “You redeemed them?”

Charlie hesitated, then nodded slowly, her expression shy. “I did. I know you wanted me to give up on it… but I couldn’t.”

Lucifer’s voice caught in his throat. He had discouraged her from this dream? He had… pushed her away from it? In his own world, he had harboured doubts about redemption as well, too scarred from his own failures to try it again. But here—here, Charlie had persevered. She had done the impossible.

Charlie’s soft voice continued, her gaze far away. “I know… you didn’t approve. You said they belonged here, that sinners had earned this place, that they should pay for their crimes. But I thought… I thought that if someone truly wanted to change, if they believed in themselves enough to make better choices, then they deserved the chance to try.”

She twisted her hands, struggling to articulate what had driven her through the years. “Redemption isn’t about forgetting their crimes. It’s about healing. It’s about accepting what they’ve done… and learning to build a better path.”

Lucifer felt a warmth and admiration fill him. He stared at his daughter, wanting to hear more, to understand what she had built without him. “How… how did you do it?”

Charlie smiled softly, though there was a weight in her expression. “It took me a long time to figure it out. At first, I thought it was about showing kindness, building trust, using little gestures and encouragements. But that wasn’t enough. You can’t save anyone with just kindness and smiles.”

She shook her head, sighing. “Redemption—real redemption—wasn’t about glossing over their sins. I learned that it required the sinner to confront the very things that got them here, the sins that had ensnared their souls in Hell.”

Her voice lowered, almost reverent. “Every sinner in Hell has a victim in Heaven. I struggled with that for so long… couldn’t understand why some souls seemed incapable of redemption. Then I realized they had to seek forgiveness, not just from others, but from themselves. They needed to accept their pain and what they’d done before they could truly move on.”

Lucifer continued to stare at her, awe-struck. This was her approach, her labour of love, poured into each soul who chose to change. He finally managed to ask, voice low and uncertain, “And what… what happens to them? When they’re redeemed?”

Charlie gazed up at the portraits with a bittersweet smile. “They go to Heaven, but…”

She paused, glancing at him. “I couldn’t send them to live with those who never fell. It wasn’t fair to their victims to make them live side by side. There was… a lot of tension about it, and I didn’t want anyone to suffer. So, I worked with Emily—she’s one of the angels—and we decided… to create a new place.”

Lucifer’s jaw dropped. “You… created a new ring?”

Charlie flushed, glancing down. “I… I don’t really know how I did it, Dad. It just happened. I met a woman—she was one of Sir Pentious’ victims. She was… so hurt, so angry. I realized I couldn’t send redeemed souls to Heaven and expect their victims to be okay with it. Something in me… changed. I don’t know how to explain it, but suddenly… the new ring was there. It was for them—for the redeemed. Mum helped me set it up.”

Lucifer’s mind spun as he looked back to the paintings, his heart thrumming with awe and pride. She had done it. She had found a way to bridge the gap that no one thought could be crossed.

“Charlie…” he began, his voice thick, squeezing her hand gently. “I am so proud of you.”

Charlie froze, eyes wide and trembling. “Y-you… you are?” Her voice was tiny, almost as if she was afraid, she had imagined his words.

Lucifer nodded, his own smile faltering with emotion. “I’m so proud of you, Charlie.”

“What you’ve done… it’s incredible. I thought it was impossible, but you’ve done it. All of this…” he gestured to the paintings, “It’s amazing.”

Charlie’s lip trembled, tears welling in her eyes. “I kept asking you to come and see… to see what I was doing. But you kept saying you couldn’t. That you were too busy with Hell.”

Her voice cracked, and she quickly turned her head to wipe at her eyes. “Even after the first redeemed soul, you didn’t come…”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Charlie melted into his embrace, clinging to him as tears trickled down her cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, Dad.”

He held her even tighter, his own eyes misting with pride and regret. “I am, Charlie. More than you know.”

Lucifer chuckled, folding his arms and watching Charlie with a gentle smile, but inside he felt a tug—a reminder of all the moments this version of himself had missed. As if to heighten that feeling, Vaggie returned, her face warm and blushing, her usually flowing white and purple hair now braided neatly down her back.

Charlie’s face lit up immediately. “Aww!”

She pouted playfully, her eyes wide. “Mum braided your hair?”

Vaggie’s cheeks flushed a little deeper as she self-consciously touched the braid, fingers grazing the neat weave.

“Is it bad?” she asked softly.

Charlie shook her head, her expression full of admiration. “Of course not! You look beautiful.”

Vaggie smiled shyly, gratitude in her eyes. But Charlie’s pout grew, her shoulders drooping as she sighed. “I wish Mum would braid my hair…”

Lucifer perked up, puffing out his chest with pride. “I can braid your hair for you, Charlie!”

Charlie snorted, patting his shoulder in mock sympathy. “Dad, last time you tried to do my hair, I had knots for a month straight. Mum was soooooo pissed.”

Vaggie chuckled, a knowing grin on her face. Lucifer felt a pang in his chest, his playful confidence slipping for a moment.

“Your mother… he does a lot, doesn’t he?” He looked away, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips as he imagined how much Adam must have taken on, all while his counterpart focused solely on ruling Hell. It left a bitterness in him—this version of Adam had managed so much, carrying their family and all their dreams.

Charlie picked up on the slight dip in his mood. She stepped forward, a comforting hand on his arm. “You know, you could go see Mum now. I know he’d love to see you too, Dad.”

Lucifer looked at her, his eyes reflecting a hesitancy and reluctance to let this bonding moment with her go. “Are you sure, Charlie? I’m more than happy to spend more time with you.”

Charlie’s face softened with a warm, reassuring smile. “Dad, just seeing you here… hearing you say that you’re proud of me and what I’m doing… it means everything.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, her eyes earnest. “Mum missed you so much too. I think he needs to hear this from you just as much as I did.”

Lucifer hesitated for a beat, his mind filling with Adam’s face, his familiar voice, the light in his eyes when he smiled. He reached out to Charlie, pulling her into another tight hug.

“You don’t know how proud I am of you, my little star,” he murmured.

Charlie smiled, hugging him back tightly, and then pulled away, giving him a gentle nudge toward the door.

“Go on, Dad. I’ll be here when tomorrow. Besides, Mum might have more hair-braiding in store for me if I’m really lucky.” She winked, and Vaggie chuckled, giving Charlie’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

Lucifer took a deep breath, his heart full, and headed down the hall, his mind full of gratitude and determination. Today, he would tell Adam everything he had meant to say all along.

When Lucifer finally found his way to Adam’s room—a journey that had taken far longer than he’d admit, only to remember he could have simply conjured a portal—he hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle. Soft singing seeped through the walls, a familiar hum that wrapped around him like a spell, tugging his heart toward the melody’s warmth. Cautiously, Lucifer pushed the door open, his breath catching as he stepped inside.

Adam lay reclined on the bed, his head nestled against the pillows, a warm water bottle hugged to his chest and his feet propped up comfortably. His golden eyes were half-lidded, distant and peaceful, as he sang softly. In the dim glow, his cerulean horns shimmered as though filled with galaxies, each starburst of light a soft pulse in rhythm with his voice. Lucifer’s heart stumbled in his chest, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him, a strange, bittersweet ache spreading through him. This was what he’d dreamed of this was what he’d wanted—a family, a life beyond his realm’s shadows.

Entranced, he barely noticed himself shifting forward, trying to take silent steps across the room to avoid disturbing Adam. But his hoof met the edge of a cabinet, sending him stumbling forward with a resounding thud. Lucifer winced as he hit the wall, groaning as he rubbed his face, his blush blooming with embarrassment.

Adam’s voice cut off mid-song, and he whipped his head around, eyes wide with alarm before relaxing into soft amusement as he took in the sight of Lucifer kneeling sheepishly on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Adam asked, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in Lucifer's flushed face.

Lucifer scrambled to his hooves, trying to brush it off with his best nonchalant grin.

"Oh, perfectly fine! Didn’t hurt a bit," he lied, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Please, continue—I was enjoying the song.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t hide the slight tremble of laughter as he took in the red line running straight down Lucifer’s face. He chuckled, patting the bed beside him. "Come here, you klutz. How did things go with Charlie?"

Lucifer removed his top hat, setting it carefully on the side table. As he ran a hand through his sleek blond hair, ruffling it until it was charmingly tousled, he took a seat beside Adam, sinking into the mattress. His smile softened, brightening his face.

“It went really well,” he said, voice rich with a happiness he hadn’t felt in ages. He told Adam everything—how Charlie’s spirit, her vision, had grown beyond anything he’d dared hope. “I’m so proud of her! She’s accomplished something I thought impossible… she’s giving sinners a second chance.”

Adam listened closely, laughing at Lucifer’s enthusiastic gushes and nodding with understanding. His eyes sparkled, reflecting every word, full of love for the father and daughter before him. Lucifer felt an urge building inside him—a tender, timid question he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask. Swallowing, he reached a hand toward Adam, gesturing delicately to the baby bump.

Adam glanced down, his eyes softening, then met Lucifer’s gaze with a gentle smile. With a nod, he took Lucifer’s hand and placed it over the warmth of his belly. Lucifer let out a breath, feeling the radiating heat through the fabric, feeling the life beneath his palm. With reverence, he stroked his hand across the curve, his fingers tracing gentle patterns over the hidden little heartbeat within.

As he caressed the bump, he recounted Charlie’s accomplishments—the new ring she’d created, her work with redeemed souls, her unbreakable commitment to helping others find peace. He shared, voice quivering with pride, how she was blossoming into a remarkable young woman.

"She’s giving others what I couldn’t,” he said softly, “A chance to become something more, something good.”

He leaned closer, pressing his cheek to Adam’s belly, letting the warmth seep into him, grounding him in this moment.

Adam’s hand drifted to his hair, fingers carding through the unruly strands. Lucifer nuzzled into the touch, his heart brimming with gratitude and wonder as he murmured, “And she’s found love, Adam. Vaggie is wonderful to her. She has a real family.”

He closed his eyes, pressing his face closer to Adam, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. This was more than he’d ever allowed himself to wish for, a vision of what Hell could be transformed into, softened by compassion and lit by hope.

Adam’s fingers brushed soothingly over his scalp, and his voice was a low, reassuring hum. “And she has you too, you know… her family isn’t complete without you. You make it all possible, Lucifer. Just by being here.”

Lucifer tilted his head up, catching Adam’s gaze, and a silent, fragile understanding passed between them, filling the room with a quiet peace. Adam smiled, a glow of happiness warming his cheeks as he traced a hand along Lucifer’s jaw, cupping his face gently.

“Stay here with me, will you?” Adam asked, his voice soft, an invitation as much as a plea.

Lucifer’s hand covered Adam’s, his thumb stroking tenderly over his knuckles.

"As long as you'll have me," he murmured, his voice full of all the promises he’d never been able to make before, echoing into the quiet, a vow whispered only for them.

Adam’s eyes softened, though a shy smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, “You sure you don’t have to go back to work… tonight? Or tomorrow?”

There was a hopeful, almost timid lilt to his voice, as if he were afraid of the answer.

Lucifer’s frown deepened, and he leaned closer, his hand braced against the mattress, effectively caging Adam beneath him.

“No, I’m on vacation, Adam. For the whole damn week. You remember?” His voice was low, unwavering, and fiercely tender.

Adam flushed, his cheeks warming as he dropped his gaze. “I… I know,” he murmured. “I just… I just wanted to be sure.”

He looked away, biting his lip. “I didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and find you gone... working in the office again.”

Lucifer’s jaw tightened, his lips curving into a soft, determined pout as he absorbed Adam’s quiet confession. The thought of Adam waking up alone, of his other self-abandoning their warm bed to chase work—even in the dead of night—left him with a bitter taste.

How could anyone choose work over this? Over him? He shook his head, cupping Adam’s cheek, letting his thumb trail over the flushed skin.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his voice rough with promise.

Leaning down, he captured Adam’s lips in a deep, unhurried kiss, sealing his words with the warmth of his mouth. When he pulled back just enough to murmur, he spoke against Adam’s lips, his voice a low whisper. “I’m here tonight, all night. All week. I’m yours. And when I go back, no more late-night work, no more leaving you alone in the dark.”

Adam’s face softened, his breaths growing shallow as Lucifer pressed small, teasing kisses along his mouth, each word laced with a kiss until Adam was breathless and flushed, his golden eyes dazed and glowing. Lucifer leaned back, a mischievous grin dancing across his lips, pride flashing in his gaze. Slowly, he loosened his tie, pulling it free in a single, deliberate movement, then began to unbutton his vest with measured grace.

“How about I show you,” he said softly, his fingers tracing a line down Adam’s side, letting his claws graze over the soft fabric, “Exactly how much I intend to make up for all those nights I wasn’t here?”

Adam’s breath hitched, a fresh blush spreading across his cheeks. Lucifer’s gaze held his, bright and unwavering, as he leaned in, bringing their lips together once more. But this time, his kiss was deeper, fuller, a promise of nights without interruption and mornings filled with soft, secret light.

Adam's eyes widened, and a nervous laugh slipped past his lips as he tilted his head against the plush pillows, his cheeks flushed.

“You’ve been acting so strangely today,” he murmured, his fingertips tracing gentle circles along Lucifer’s cheekbones. His voice was soft and curious, laced with affection.

Lucifer’s heart thudded as he met Adam’s gaze, feeling an electric warmth coil through him.

“I’ve been acting different?” he asked, feeling a slight tremor under Adam’s touch.

Adam nodded, pulling him down into a tender kiss. “Not in a bad way,” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against Lucifer’s, “It’s just… like another person, somehow. You’ve been so sweet and attentive, like I’m the only thing on your mind.”

Adam’s words were punctuated by soft pecks, each one making Lucifer’s stomach flip.

“Another person?” Lucifer’s heart skipped.

Was he that different from the Lucifer Adam knew? He didn’t care—not when he had this chance, not when Adam looked at him like this. He would savour every moment, every glance and touch. He’d take full advantage of this incredible second chance, no matter how fleeting it might be.

“Well then,” Lucifer murmured, his voice soft but laced with a playful edge as he traced his fingers along Adam’s arm, “I hope you’re liking my ‘new self,’ because I have no intention of going anywhere.”

He pulled his tie free with a slow, teasing smile, letting the fabric slide between his fingers before slipping it around Adam’s wrists, gently binding them together.

Adam’s eyes flicked to the tie, a spark of surprise lighting his expression.

“Um, Luci?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Lucifer grinned, showing the glint of his sharp teeth, his eyes glimmering with a heat that made Adam’s cheeks flush a deeper red.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low purr. “I’m just making sure you have all my attention tonight. Wouldn’t want you slipping away before I’ve had the chance to show you exactly what I’ve been planning.”

Adam’s breath hitched, his blush deepening as he swallowed, wide-eyed. But he could see the affection in Lucifer’s gaze, the way he looked at him like he was the only one in the world.

“Oh,” Adam smiled, sliding his bound wrists over Lucifer’s head and pulling him down. “Then, I hope you can live up to those words~”

The grin of Lucifer’s face swiftly became crueller and sharper like.

“Remember, you asked for it~”

The night had stretched on, vivid and electric, far beyond anything Lucifer could have anticipated. It pulsed with life, with something rich and raw that felt forbidden and precious all at once. Adam’s voice—those gasps and breathy whimpers—still clung to the edges of his mind, each sound branding itself into Lucifer’s memory. His hands had traveled across Adam’s body like a map, ensuring that every curve and edge would stay with him, every touch imprinted as much on himself as on Adam. The intensity of it, the sheer rightness, was undeniable.

As they finally curled together in the dim glow of the room, Lucifer felt a warmth he hadn’t known he could crave. Eyes closed, he let himself drift, Adam’s heartbeat a steady rhythm against him. Just a moment, he thought. Just a second, to savor this stillness.

But then—a shiver. Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, and the warmth was gone. He was standing alone, enveloped in a void as silent and consuming as the grave. Darkness surrounded him like smoke, thick and impenetrable. He looked around, heart pounding as he searched the shadows, calling out, "Adam?"

The silence was absolute.

“Adam?” His voice was sharper this time, laced with urgency. But the only answer was an unsettling stillness, one that made the air feel thin and the darkness suffocating.

Then, as if awakening from a trance, Lucifer looked down, realizing he was dressed in his usual red-and-white circus suit, his jacket missing, his bare chest catching the cold, empty air. Dread slithered into his veins, coiling around his bones. He swallowed, his eyes widening as he whispered, "No… no, I don't want to go back.”

“I don’t want to leave this—leave them. I want to stay. I want to stay with Adam. With Charlie. I want—"

The air itself seemed to respond, a cold voice slicing through the void.

“I want my life back.”

A chill crawled up Lucifer’s spine. He spun around, his eyes locking onto a figure that seemed to melt out of the darkness—a figure that looked just like him, but… different. Taller, cloaked in an obsidian-black suit that shimmered like an oil-slick, streaked with deep blues. This was no mere echo. This was him, yet not him, a Lucifer who wore a face twisted by something sharp and bitter.

It was his other self. It was the other worlds Lucifer.

Lucifer’s breath caught. "You…"

The word slipped out as he stared at the apparition. The other Lucifer crossed his arms, his frown cutting sharp lines across his face, eyes narrowed in cold accusation.

"This is my life. My world. You can’t just walk in and take over it."

Lucifer clenched his fists, a fiery heat rising in him. "And why not? You hardly deserve it."

The other Lucifer’s expression shifted, his cool composure cracking to reveal something raw, a jagged edge of emotion. "And you think you do? You think you have a right to steal my life?"

A bitter laugh escaped Lucifer, his anger stoking the embers of his voice. "You’ve been neglecting Adam. You don’t see him. You hardly spend time with him. And Charlie? You ignore her as if she’s a nuisance, a distraction from your precious work!"

The other Lucifer’s eyes flashed dangerously, a faint smirk twisting his lips. "Work? Oh, I’ve been working. You have no idea the burdens I carry, the weight I bear for all of us. But tell me—what makes you think you’re any better? You only wanted Adam because he made you feel again, didn’t you? You were desperate for anything that would break your cursed monotony."

“That’s not true!” Lucifer snarled, feeling something deep and sharp dig into his chest. "I didn’t want to feel. I wanted him. I chose him, long before you ever thought to."

The other Lucifer stepped closer, eyes darkening and let out a sharp, cruel mocking laugh. "Then why did you abandon him in Eden? Why did you pick Lilith? Tell me, if you care so much, why I was the one who chose him, who went to Hell for him!"

Lucifer opened his mouth to retort, but the words stalled. Shame clawed at his throat, bitter and sour. He had left. He had been afraid, unwilling to bear the weight of his choices.

A cruel satisfaction flickered in the other Lucifer's eyes as he watched the effect of his words. “You see? You wanted the dream, but not the cost. And now you come back, playing the saint, claiming my life—my pain, my sacrifices—as your own."

“I don’t want your pain,” Lucifer hissed, his voice low and trembling. “But you’re right. I made the wrong choice. I should have picked him from the beginning, I was distracted by pretty things and empty words. I was afraid. But I’m not that man anymore.”

He stepped closer, his gaze fierce. "I have learned, grown. I can be the partner Adam deserves; the father Charlie needs."

The other Lucifer sneered, bitterness twisting his features. "Spare me your redemption speech. You’ve been playing at change, but in the end, you’re still just a shadow. You’ll break, just as you did before."

Lucifer’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe. But I would rather break for them a thousand times than leave them to a man who cannot see what he has until it's gone.”

The void pulsed, a crackling tension building between them, each holding his ground. The darkness quivered as if it couldn’t contain their fury.

The other Lucifer’s voice crackled through the darkness, laced with fury, contempt—and an undercurrent of bitter sorrow that clung like the smoke of an old fire, too stubborn to be extinguished.

"I’ve seen it all. Every choice you made in your own world. Every twisted game you played in Eden." He spat the words, each one landing like a curse. "You toyed with Adam’s feelings, teased him with glimpses of love only to crush him in ways that would make Hell’s own demons cringe. And don’t think I forgot what you did after that—how you pushed him toward Lilith, only to steal her out from under him. You destroyed them both, and for what? For your own satisfaction? To feel like you had control?"

Lucifer staggered, each accusation striking him like a physical blow. His knees trembled, but he held his ground, feeling a chill seep into his bones.

"And let’s not forget," the other Lucifer continued, his voice a low, venomous hiss, “You were the one who gave Eve the apple, weren’t you? And then—you had the audacity to indulge in your own little threesome with Lilith and Eve the very night humanity fell. How could you ever think you’d make a good partner? A husband? A lover worthy of anyone, let alone my Adam?”

Lucifer felt his throat tighten, shame wrapping itself around his voice, strangling any attempt at protest. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He could only listen, trapped by the weight of his own past, his mistakes reflected at him with a cold, merciless clarity.

The other Lucifer laughed, a harsh sound that echoed through the darkness. “And the bullying afterward—wasn’t it enough to break Adam’s spirit, to rob him of every chance at love, but no, you kept going. Every council meeting with Heaven, every gathering where he had no choice but to face you, you twisted the knife. You flaunted your affairs and mocked him for Lilith, for Eve, for everything he lost because of you.”

He paused, eyes glinting with hatred. “And what did Adam do? Nothing. He fucking sat there and took it, and you never cared.”

Lucifer’s vision blurred as the memories resurfaced, a parade of sins he had long buried but never truly faced.

"And now you want to fucking lecture me?” The other Lucifer’s voice dropped, his face darkening, shadows seeming to twist around him as his anger took form. "Let’s talk about the Exterminations. In your world, both you and Charlie act like they are bad and unneeded, but they are needed.”

“Sinners are here for a reason. They’re not innocent; they’re the very worst of humanity, killers, deceivers, the ones who take and destroy without remorse. Charlie—my Charlie—she’s made strides, yes, but you and I both know that some souls are too twisted to save. And yet, you let her mock Adam, berate Adam for doing what he must. You know what those souls are capable of if they manage to escape. And yet, you still stand in the way, telling yourself you’re somehow better.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Lucifer choked out; his voice raw. "But we both know not all souls are beyond redemption. They need a chance.”

“A chance?” The other Lucifer’s eyes darkened, his mouth twisting in a bitter sneer. "What they need is to be kept from returning to Earth, from reaching Heaven and leaving destruction in their wake. I may have lost my way, but I did what I had to. I protected my Adam, even when he hated me for it. And you? You let your daughter turn her friends against him, against me, knowing full well what would happen if the worst souls were unleashed.”

The other Lucifer’s voice cut through the darkness, each word sharp as a blade, every syllable drenched in a fury that had simmered for centuries.

“You think souls deserve redemption? Let me make this clear—they don’t,” he spat, his words like venom. “Maybe a select few, those rare ones, yes—Charlie’s managed to save them. But even she doesn’t fully understand, can’t possibly see the way those souls are still tainted, still bruised, unable to truly let go of the sins they carried in life.”

His voice dropped, a low, menacing murmur. “Our world had an Extermination, too. When Charlie found out, she pushed back, fought me tooth and nail to change things. So, fine—things are different now, but it’s still happening. Just… slower. Only because I agreed to let her try her way.”

He laughed, a hollow, humourless sound. “But you and I both know the truth, don’t we? Some souls are beyond saving. They’re so far gone that keeping them here is a mistake, a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. And yet, you let her, your Charlie, and her naive ideals blind you. You play at redemption while ignoring what you know in your bones is true.”

Lucifer’s mouth opened, ready to argue, but the other Lucifer silenced him with a sharp glare, his eyes glowing crimson as horns began to press from his skull.

“You know this better than anyone,” he continued, his voice low and vibrating with rage. “No law, no redemption program, is iron-clad. Someone—one of those twisted souls—is bound to fool her. Eventually, one of those fiends will find a loophole, trick their way up to Heaven, and wreak chaos all over again! You know this, and yet you just let your Charlie berate Adam for doing what his job that he never wanted.”

The other Lucifer took a step closer, each word a lash of fury. “Exterminations are needed. But you’ll never convince her of that, will you? Just like I can’t convince mine. And yet, here you are—standing against me as if you don’t understand the danger. You let her mock your Adam, even encourage her little band of ‘redeemers,’ and for what? Just to protect your image? To pretend you’re somehow more merciful?”

Lucifer felt his chest tighten with something almost like shame, but he forced himself to hold the other’s gaze, even as those eyes burned like twin infernos.

“It’s the same in your universe and mine,” the other Lucifer hissed, his voice a dark, dangerous whisper. “These souls—they’re poison, festering deeper with every day they spend here. And each day more of them arrive. You know that. You feel it. And yet, you still taunted Adam, mocked him for doing his job.”

Lucifer felt the words hammer into him, each one ringing with a painful truth. He thought of the countless meetings, the jabs, the digs he’d made at Adam’s expense, a man forced to carry a burden he’d never asked for.

“A job that you know he didn’t want,” the other Lucifer sneered, his voice breaking with rage. “Heaven damned him, cursed him, forced this role onto him. He didn’t have a choice! Maybe he turned it into a game, a twisted dance to keep himself sane, but what else was he supposed to do? You know he barely has any power. You let your daughter and her friends tear him down, turn him into a villain, and for what? So you could feel sorry for yourself?”

The other Lucifer shook his head, disgust flashing across his face. “You knew about the Exterminations. You knew what those cursed souls would do if they escaped. And still, you hid, pretending to be the victim, playing up the tragic act while Hell turned into a battlefield and the man who once trusted you was left alone to hold it together. You abandoned him and let him bear the weight. And now, you have the audacity to stand here and claim you could do better?”

Lucifer’s voice caught in his throat, every defence he could muster dissolving in the wake of the other’s words. He had wanted redemption, a way to right his wrongs, but now he felt exposed, his mistakes, his cruelty laid bare before him.

The other Lucifer’s expression twisted with raw anger, but there was pain there, too—a pain that mirrored the ache buried in Lucifer’s own heart.

“Maybe I’m cruel. Maybe I’m harsh,” he murmured, his voice finally softening, though the fire still burned in his eyes. “But I’ve done it all to keep this world, our world, from collapsing. And as much as it tears me apart, I’ll keep making the hard choices—if it means keeping Adam safe.”

A silence fell between them, thick and heavy, laden with the weight of everything left unsaid. Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat, caught between apology and guilt, and a strange, hollow acceptance. He knew now that he couldn’t fix what he’d done. And standing here, facing himself, he saw that perhaps the other Lucifer’s harsh reality was, in its way, just another form of love—twisted, painful, but love nonetheless.

His eyes gleamed with a vicious light. “You did nothing. You ran away, played the victim. And now, because you lost your Adam, you think you can come and claim mine?”

Lucifer flinched, his chest tightening with the old ache of loss. The memory of his own Adam, gone—vanished into the darkness of his choices, perhaps forever.

The other Lucifer leaned closer; eyes hard. “Yes, I might have been neglectful. Yes, I might have lost sight of what matters. But I can be better. I will be fucking better. I’m not deluding myself about who I am, or the cost of what I’ve done. I’ve sacrificed my time, my love, my life, all to keep Hell in check—to keep the darkness from spilling over. So don’t you dare fucking lecture me on my sins when yours make mine look tame.”

His voice cracked, the rage giving way to something rawer, stripped of the bravado and bitterness. “You know nothing about what it’s like. Adam... he’s fragile in my world. He doesn’t have the immortality of the Adam you lost. His curse wasn’t Lilith’s barren womb—it was something far worse. No immunity. A body as delicate as glass. He can’t go anywhere alone; one illness, one attack, and he could die.”

The other Lucifer’s voice trembled as he spoke, his anger fraying into desperation. “If anyone here knew just how weak he really is… I would lose him. He nearly died when he bore Charlie, and I thought… I thought I’d lose them both. And now? I have another child on the way, and I’m terrified he won’t survive it.”

Lucifer’s gaze fell, shame tightening in his gut. For all his own sacrifices, he had never faced the same fears this other self-had endured, the endless vigilance, the agony of knowing the one he loved was only ever one step away from death.

The other Lucifer looked at him, and for the first time, the anger in his face softened into something like understanding. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve been cruel, even reckless. But it was all to keep him safe, to keep Hell in order. I’ve seen the horrors that human souls can become, how they twist and corrupt even further in death. And Adam… he’s all I have. So yes, maybe I’ve gone too far. But you? You’ve done worse and still want to pretend you’re the better man.”

He shook his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. “You don’t get to take this from me. Not after everything I’ve done to keep him alive.”

Lucifer looked up, his voice barely more than a murmur. “I… didn’t know.”

The other Lucifer stared at him, silent for a long moment. “No. You didn’t. But that doesn’t excuse what you came here to do.”

He took a steadying breath, his eyes hardening again. “If you care about Adam, if you ever did, then you’ll turn back now. Let me protect him in the only way I know how.”

Lucifer swallowed; his throat tight. He had come here seeking redemption, a chance to rewrite his mistakes, to find a version of Adam he could love without losing himself. But standing here, facing the man he could have become, he saw something he hadn’t expected—sacrifice, duty, and a love that ran deeper than any darkness he had known.

Slowly, he nodded, stepping back into the shadows. “I… I’ll go. But know this. I’m sorry for everything I put him through, for every sin, every betrayal. I got a week off for you, don’t go back to work…spend time with Adam and Charlie, they-they miss you…a lot.”

His voice faltered. “And I hope… I hope you can be the man he deserves.”

The other Lucifer watched him go, his face an unreadable mask. But as Lucifer slipped into the darkness, he thought he saw a glimmer of understanding, a hint of forgiveness—if only a sliver, buried deep within those storm-grey eyes.

“You don’t deserve any Adam and you never will.”

Lucifer closed his eyes – it was painful to hear.

He agreed.

[mistresscitrusslice]

Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! It’s seriously appreciated.

You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. I’ve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldn’t have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)

The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesn’t look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so I’m not sure what to make of that.

I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. It’s great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, where’s Kino while she’s out at war then??? I imagine that Kino’s father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.

Also, Rokrund! It’s nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name we’re hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?

“Visions that she would speak of to few others.” I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say “Ambessa’s husband” because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe he’s deceased.

I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.

It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldn’t use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. I’m iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason can’t use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasn’t hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasn’t guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasn’t certain, then the magic had no need to save him.

More likely, Mel’s magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesn’t even know she has magic. There’s no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, it’d be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it would’ve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she would’ve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.

Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out what’s going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. She’d want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. She’d tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didn’t work as it was supposed to.

Unless there’s a reason we haven’t been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce” in response to “How does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratch” sounds a bit like she’s trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. There’s physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, “there’s no sense” might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?

Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. He’d want to study her! And honestly she’d probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows

Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't

S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.

The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.

No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.

But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.

1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?

2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's

Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?

She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.

Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?

Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:

But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.

[whysperingwoods]

Fear-mongering and herbalism

Herbalism is a crucial element for many practitioners of witchcraft, and lately I've seen a lot of fear-mongering in the #baby-witch and #witchblr tags that it's raising some serious red flags. Caution is necessary, yes, but over-simplified warnings against herbs that have a very long history and tradition of safe and effective use can rob people of accessible, beneficial ways to take an active role in their own health and wellbeing.

True: People absolutely need to be cautious about what they are putting in their bodies. True: "Natural" does not equate to "good" or "healthy". True: You need to speak to a medical professional regarding medical issues.

All these things being true do not mean that you cannot find plants that are safe to ingest, and that can benefit your health and support you. You can use herbs safely and you do have the power and ability to find information about them.

I've literally seen posts that say not to ingest any kind of herb because "you don't know what's in them" and "you don't know dosage, so it might harm you".

This lack of nuance is precisely the type of thinking that breeds misinformation and unnecessary fear, as if there is not enough of that to go around! It seems like because MAGA and anti-vaxx folks have been using the line "do your own research!!" so much, people are associating research with... right wing conspiracy theory? Somehow? Don't forget that being capable of doing good research also means being capable of evaluating your sources, and thinking critically about what you're reading.

Here are some of the misconceptions I've come across in the last couple days:

Laypeople can't safely use herbs

Fear of toxicity in herbs is common and rational, but herbs that you can find in your kitchen are food-grade and widely available. You don't need to eat them in enormous quantities to experience their benefits.

For example, thyme can help support the lungs during cold and flu season. Ginger tea is great for minor digestive upsets. These are things you have access to and can provide a safe means of relief.

Local apothecaries are very knowledgeable about where they source their herbs and what dosages are safe. They are also able to tell you if their herbs are pesticide-free, organic, etc.

Where you want to be cautious is ordering herbs online, especially places like Amazon or Etsy where there is no control whatsoever. Even supplements have been found to frequently not contain what they are said to contain, and you really have to do research about the company you're buying from beforehand.

If you don't have a local apothecary, you can still buy herbs online! Just make sure you are using a reputable website such as Mountain Rose Herbs where you can get bulk herbs.

Lesser known herbs require more caution, but there are fantastic books about herbalism and they provide information on dosage and various ways the herbs can be used responsibly. Your local library is almost guaranteed to have several books about herbalism, and if you aren't sure about a particular herb, look it up in multiple other resources to see if their information matches up. You can even find information about many commonly used herbs on WebMD.

Also, don't forage herbs that you plan to ingest if you are not experienced. This is a recipe for disaster, and incredibly dangerous. I'm not going to go into super huge detail about this, because it would merit its own post, but seriously, just don't do it until you have experience. Plant identification apps are not sufficient to identify herbs you plan to ingest.

Herbal remedies cure major illnesses

Herbs can play a supportive role, but it's crucial to recognise their limits. Herbal medicine should complement, not replace, medical treatment for severe chronic conditions. Clinical herbalists are trained to assess what's appropriate for herb-based support and when a situation requires immediate medical attention.

Herbs are not a panacea that will cure every ailment. Every person is unique and any single herb can have wildly different effects on the body. Some people might find incredible relief, while another person may find no effect at all, or may even find an herb doesn't agree with them.

Herbalists think they are medical practitioners

Because there is no federally regulated body for herbalists, people sometimes think it's the wild west out there and anyone can do anything, but that's not the case. Herbalists are not exempt from the law, and no one is legally allowed to practice medicine if they are not licensed to do so. Period. No amount of traditional knowledge changes that.

While the herbalist profession is not regulated federally, there are regulating bodies that are run by herbalists and that set standards for what is expected and permitted. If you search for "herbalism guild Canada" you will find the Canadian Council of Herbalist Associations which has tons of information, and some provinces also have their own guilds. Most guilds will have a list of reputable herbalists that you can access and they have strict requirements for being added to those lists. You can find these requirements on their websites and gauge them for yourself.

Part of training to become a clinical herbalist is knowing you are not a medical practitioner. You are taught not to diagnose people, and how to recognise when something is outside of your scope of practice.

From the CCHA:

9. A registered herbal practitioner will  offer interdisciplinary collaboration with other health professionals

Herbalists focus on holistic, complementary care, rather than taking on the role of medical practitioners. A qualified herbalist works alongside them to support the body's systems, rather than attempting to independently treat or diagnose medical systems. For example, they might work with clients to ease side-effects from medication, but they won't independently treat serious conditions like infections.

Herbalists are anti-vaxx and anti-science

The vast majority of clinical herbalists are not anti-vaxx or anti-modern medicine at all, and focus on combining traditional knowledge about plants with modern science. Are there herbalists out there who are anti-vaxx? Absolutely, just like any demographic you can find people who are spouting nonsense, but that is not the norm.

Thankfully, herbalism schools and herbalists are pretty up front with their beliefs. The CCHA has these requirements for herbalists in the guild:

3. Herbalists have an extensive knowledge base combining traditional wisdom and modern scientific perspective       [...] 7. A registered herbal practitioner is trained in herbal safety, drug interactions, and possible contraindications [...] 10. A registered herbal practitioner is accountable  to a professional organization, must maintain annual continuing education and must abide by professional standards 

When I was looking for a clinical herbalist myself, I always checked their website information and whether they were registered with a guild, and what the requirements for that guild were. The herbalist I chose also had a clear section on her website where she stated that she had experience working with people on psychiatric medications.

You can also often find their stance on other things such as LGBTQIA+ issues (such as statements on their website regarding their approach to HRT).

The school I ultimately selected for my education was one that had explicit information about how they integrated new science into their curriculum, and how frequently it was updated.

If you are not finding the information you're looking for, just ask! It's completely acceptable and not rude to contact an herbalist and ask them what their approach is on the things you are concerned about. They will be happy to answer these questions and give you any information they can to help you decide if they are a good fit for you.

Conclusion

Herbalism is not about replacing medical care or promising miracle cures. It's about tapping into centuries-old knowledge and combining it with modern insights. Embrace herbs with curiosity, responsibility, and respect, and you can have an incredible and beneficial relationship with them.

I'm sure there are plenty of points here that I have omitted or not sufficiently covered. I hope readers will take this as an indictment of the author, me, rather than one against herbalism as a whole.

[magnetothemagnificent]

Yesterday at shul the Rabbanit gave a really beautiful drasha about Avram's discovery of G-d, using the Midrash in Bereishit Rabba (39:1):

מָשָׁל לְאֶחָד שֶׁהָיָה עוֹבֵר מִמָּקוֹם לְמָקוֹם, וְרָאָה בִּירָה אַחַת דּוֹלֶקֶת, אָמַר תֹּאמַר שֶׁהַבִּירָה הַזּוֹ בְּלֹא מַנְהִיג, הֵצִיץ עָלָיו בַּעַל הַבִּירָה, אָמַר לוֹ אֲנִי הוּא בַּעַל הַבִּירָה

"There is a parable to one who was wandering from place to place, and saw a fortress that was lit up. He said to himself, "could you say that this fortress has no governor"? The master of the fortress peered out at him and said to him, "I am the master of the fortress"."

The traveler is a young Avram, the fortress is the world, and the master is G-d, alluding to the logical conclusion a young Avram came to that there had to be a greater power in the world.

The word "דּוֹלֶקֶת" is an interesting word, because it can be used to mean "illuminated", like a fortress all lit up against the night sky, or it can be used to mean "on fire", like a fortress burning down. And in both situations, asking where its owner is appropriate. For the former, the traveler is asking where the owner is, because someone would have had to have been the one to light all the torches and candles. For the latter, the traveler is horrified that such a monument is burning down with no one to take responsibility.

This Midrash has been the topic of numerous Torah insights, most especially from Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, synthesizing these two seemingly contrasting ideas. That we can simultaneously look at the world as though it is engulfed in flames, or as though it is twinkling in the darkness, and in both times cry out, "where is G-d?!" We can come to spirituality out of horror or out of wonder, and sometimes the same situation can evoke both reactions. There are people who are spurred into action because of a sense of wonder at the world, because they see beauty and complexity and greatness and want to find out how and why the world works the way it does. There are others who are spurred into action because they are horrified at the world seemingly collapsing all around them, because it looks like no one is there to take responsibility and that they must be the one to do it. Both mindsets are valuable.

And I'd like to add to the Rabbanit's drasha:

This parable doesn't just have to apply to only those who believe in G-d or not, or those who are religious or not. Imagine the parable ended before the owner of the fortress showed himself. How would the traveler react? If the fortress was illuminated with kindled torches and candles, would the traveler enter the fortress and make sure the lights stayed on to light the way for other weary travelers? If the fortress was on fire, would the traveler go to try and extinguish the flames? If no one is claiming responsiblity for the fortress, then we must claim responsibility, because no one else will.

[alipeeps]

Episode 24

Welp, he did what they suggested. He went to see for himself.

I've said it before but it bears repeating - this kid is SUCH a good actor!

Jesus fucking christ, Wen Zongyu is the worst.

He took a grieving child and:

manipulated him into spying against his friends and poisoning one of them:

intended from the start to use his body as a vessel for a demon;

fucking poisoned him so that he would be able to control said demon once it was in his body!!

Oooh but your little demon trapping cage didn't work on our boy Li Lun?

So... could it actually end up now that Li Lun and the gang will band together against Wen Zongyu? The enemy of my enemy and all that?

Can't Zhao Yuanzhou use his healing ability on him?

Oh SHIT, the sword being broken affects/damages the person connected to it?

So they NEED that second sword!! Anybody else remember that it was explicitly mentioned that TWO cloud light swords were forged? Anyone?!!

And that confirms that the reason the sword cracked this time is because of the malicious qi - every other time Zhu Yan has been stabbed with the sword, he has been in control of his qi.

However... doesn't that mean that the plan/back up plan to kill Zhu Yan if he is out of control is doomed to failure, because the uncontrolled qi will crack the sword?

OUCH

Ying Lei is so fucking under-rated... they play him for comedy so much of the time but he has genuinely been the one coming up with a lot of the solutions for things. He found how to purify the Yao Water. He worked out that Bai Jiu's blood could revive the Divine Wood. And he's thought to ask the other mountain gods about ways to save both Zhuo Yichen and Bai Jiu. He is best boy!!

Uhhhh... yeah... sliiiight problem there...

Okay so we have a way to keep him going a bit longer... while you find the second sword, right? Right?!

Good on you Pei Sijing.

He is the best!!

Oh damn, he survived.

And Wen Zongyu has the gall to act pleased about it - as if he wasn't callously offering his position to Pei Sijing a matter of days ago.

"Thank you for your treatment"

"Better than I was before"

Did... did Wen Zongyu use his fucking experimental treatments on him? Is he a hybrid now?

"According to the spy" What spy? Just a generic spy keeping an eye on things... or is there another traitor in their midst?

Oh dang, that's fucked up your plans eh? Bummer. Sucks to be you.

Oh wow, that is freaky. It's Bai Jiu... but he's dressed and hair-styled Li Lun-style.

Ohhh that doesn't sound good...

Oh dang, his brother didn't have the right Bingyi blood to awaken the sword?!

But... but didn't we see it glowing in his (dead) hand when Zhu Yan wiped out the Demon Hunting Bureau? Or was that just the sword reacting to Zhu Yan's presence?

Ahhhh was it Zhu Yan they were going after? Probably... how many Great Demons are there after all?

Yup, it was, and the sword glowed in response to Zhu Yan's presence.

No wonder Zhuo Yichen didn't know how to use the cloud light sword properly... I'd thought it was because his dad and brother had died before they had chance to teach him... but they never could have taught him because they didn't have the power to awaken it and use it to its full potential...

Oh SHIT and he finds out about his brother's death by someone bringing him the damn sword?!! Wrapped in a blood-stained cloth. Like... harsh, dude?!!

And he dedicated his life to becoming strong enough to awaken the sword, to honor his brother...

I'm not crying, you're crying!!

His tears awakened it?

Goddamn the music in this show is just perfect...

Oh shit.

OH SHIT!

Wtf's going on with the fish pond?

Wtf is this, that's been hiding in the fish pond all this time?!

Of course it is. And of course it's been at the bottom of the fish pond for fucking generations. Where else would you keep it?!

Oh it can repair everything can it?

WHY do they just fucking stand there and let it happen?!!

Oh Zhu Yan did react! Hallelujah!

He sure did.

Did what? You are in this situation because of your own actions! It was literally YOUR plan to break the baize token, get unsealed, and then take over Bai Jiu's body because you knew your own body would burn up!

Okay wtf why did the stone suddenly break?

Can this show please stop giving us a teensy glimpse of hope and then ripping it away from us again?!!

Honestly the stone's a bit shit if all it takes to crumble it is the merest touch of demonic energy?

And what the fuck is this now? There was blood at the centre of the stone? Is it the famous Bingyi blood?

And it's gone zooming into Zhuo Yichen? Whose eyes have gone blue like in the flashbacks to his ancestor?

Oh damn... did I hear that right? The demon Ying Long agreed to die at Bingyi's hand... for the greater good?

OH WHAT?!!!

Ying Lei be like:

Ahhh my poor precious baby mountain god! He's too too good!

Way to be a downer, Zhu Yan.

So it wasn't Bingyi blood? It was demon blood? Unless...?

Because Ying Long sacrificed himself to save the world. Sound familiar, anyone?

Ho hoooooo! Yes indeedy, Zhuo Yichen's ancestor was also a demon... and the famous Bingyi blood is - demon blood! (So I guess maybe it was Bingyi blood inside the stone after all?)

And members of Zhuo Yichen's family were only strong enough to activate the cloud light sword if they had enough demon Bingyi bloodline in them, I guess? And Zhuo Yichen does... which is probably also why he kept dreaming about turning into a demon, I am guessing?

Ohhhhh and we finally get an explanation of how come Zhuo Yichen let Ao Yin get away if he wasn't being controlled by Li Lun!!

He wasn't controlled... he was shocked (mind you, why on earth he would believe a demon's word on that, enough to be shocked to a standstill by it and let them escape?)

So the Great Demon Bingyi was turned human...

And he lived in seclusion... and his descendants...

SO... he wasn't all THAT secluded then eh? 😂

It allows them to choose? So he gets to choose if he remains human or becomes demon? But what do you want to bet he will end up in a situation where becoming demon is the only option to save everyone, so he'll do it?

Oh mind you, no, doesn't sound like there is any choice...

Oh holy shit, is there ANY good news for us, Zhu Yan?!!

So now Zhuo Yichen is condemned to death on 2 fronts - the broken sword AND the Bingyi demon blood.

How the fuck are Chongwu spies able to so easily sneak right into the core of Demon Hunting Bureau to eavesdrop? Do you people have ANY fucking security at all?

You said it girl!

Well DUH, of course he's bloody disappeared while you idiots were chitchatting!!

Oh dang...

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah 😭😭

Aww bless her, she has understood the meaning behind his words...

Oh shit!

AAaaaahhhh! You end it THERE?!!

[vidavalor]

@tawnyontumblr I'm sure the scrappy Whickber Street residents will have some kind of role to play! And this is an example of how The Finale doesn't need to do any set up of new characters. We already have all we'll ever need in place.

@ao3cassandraic I was being more facetious than literal in the original post as I actually think "Go Team!" and helping Adam see what was coming at him is arguably the most important role on the tarmac in Tadfield but my point is that it takes a slew of characters to stop Armageddon with the supporting ones doing most of the heavy lifting when it comes to action, while Crowley & Aziraphale have less direct action but more symbolic weight to the actions that they do have.

I'm not sure that I agree with your idea that it was Crowley & Aziraphale who stopped a war between Heaven & Hell in S1. Beez and Gabriel aren't in charge of that war-- The Metatron and Satan were. It was a war that couldn't be had without Adam beginning it so it was really Adam who stopped the war by his refusal to start it, imho. It got delayed while they regrouped but it was mainly delayed because they had to figure out how it was supposed to go in the wake of Adam saying nah to Armageddon. We could maybe argue that Crowley & Aziraphale helping Adam against Satan helped Adam to see that he had the power to refuse? I tend to think that's a bit more Adam's innate personality, though. He didn't need them to be able to say that he has all the world that he wants.

In the bit you're talking about in your post, I think Crowley & Aziraphale basically find out from Gabriel & Beez that none of the four of them have any clue about The Ineffable Plan/Divine Plan/Great Plan. It's a shocking moment to Crowley and Aziraphale because, until this point, they had thought that Gabriel and Beez (or at least Gabriel) knew more than they did. I think that scene is more the start of the four main characters beginning to get closer to being on the same side than anything else. The war wasn't really stopped so much as delayed and Adam is responsible for that because Gabriel & Beez have to go back and figure out a new plan since the antichrist isn't playing ball. Crowley & Aziraphale indirectly helped Adam with Satan but I really think it's just Adam who stopped the war.

I think that "omg no one knows what The Ineffable Plan is" scene might also be likely to have a parallel scene coming back around pretty quickly because the fastest way for everyone to realize that The Metatron is a fraud is for them to collectively demand to speak to God. They're only going to think to to do this, though, once they've first asked Gabriel if he knows how to speak to God, thinking that The Supreme Archangel must, right? When Gabriel tells them he's never spoken to God and he doesn't know how to do so, they're all going to demand together that The Metatron go get God and, when he can't, rebel against him.

If you're talking S2, though? Crowley & Aziraphale could be said to have helped delay Armageddon: Round Two, though, because they are partially what inspires Gabriel and Beez to get together, which leads to Gabriel mutinying, which delayed Armageddon: Round Two long enough to bring us to the plot we're sitting in ahead of The Finale.

I find it really funny that people think that Crowley and Aziraphale have to personally stop Armageddon: Round Two in The Finale and have this really long and involved plot to do so. Armageddon: Round One was stopped in about eight minutes by a quartet of eleven year olds. Crowley and Aziraphale were also there, I suppose...

Crowley and Aziraphale's entire contribution was to roll in out of nowhere with four seconds to spare and be like "You, Antichrist Kid! Your bio-dad is literally The Devil and he's coming soon so think quick!" and then cheer Adam on. They both made it to Tadfield separately on a wing and a prayer at the last possible minute and their role was basically GO TEAM!!! while The Them actually saved the day. Newt did more to stop Armageddon: Round One than Crowley and Aziraphale did.

Yeah, that could be different in The Finale but I'd still wager that it's more likely that Crowley and Aziraphale are more the motivation that inspires the supporting characters to take more direct action than that they're the ones who take out Satan and The Metatron and save the world directly themselves. Their role is inspiring the other characters to see that a different world is possible and supporting them as they do. They've actually done a lot of that work already.

S2 seemed like it was setting up for this a bit. Uriel's refusal to kill Maggie and Nina and support of Gabriel in 2.06 indicates she's on our main characters' sides now. Jim + Team vs. Satan seems likely after the suggestion in S2 that Gabriel is the only one who Satan is afraid of, since they have equal power. And you know who I bet is going be the one who deals some extreme sanctions to The Metatron? Michael. I don't think she's going to take finding out that it's all been a sham very well. Plus? She is the duty officer. 😂

There's going to be plenty of time for Crowley and Aziraphale to reunite because the story really works out in spite of--and kind of because of-- the stuff they've fucked up, not because of the stuff they do particularly well. I think this will be true in The Finale, too:

[jessilynallendilla]

SHAZAM/CAPTAIN MARVEL FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

We Have Nothing To Fear Except Ourselves  T 1,773 SERIES 

"Superboy will be staying at Mount Justice for now," Bruce says. He doesn't look at Clark as he says it. Clark doesn't look at him either. 

". . . Mount Justice is a cave," Captain Marvel says, clearly even more bewildered. "And Superboy is solar-powered. Isn't that kind of . . . I don't know . . . mean?" 

"'Mean'?" Clark repeats in disbelief before he can think better of it. 

Captain Marvel And The Shadow Demon  G 952 SERIES 

He floated down, knelt on the ground and extended the back of his hand toward the creature. The creature cautiously padded out of Superman’s shadow toward him and sniffed his hand, before rubbing it’s head affectionately against it.  “Heh… you aren’t nearly as scary as everyone makes you out to be.”  “Mrrrrp” the creature replied, still head butting his hand 

Super Reporters AU: That One Time A Half-Kryptonian Visited Fawcett City  G 8,185 SERIES 

Clark and Lois had a predicament, on one hand, Clark had some League Business offworld. On the other hand, Lois had to go undercover for a scoop on an underground crime ring, both can’t take care of 5 year old Jon, luckily for Clark, his honorary little brother, Billy is willing to accompany him in the peculiar Fawcett city. 

Super Reporter Billy Batson  G 19,114 SERIES 

Little Billy Batson has just been transformed into a grown man - the superhero Captain Marvel. Thrown into a crazy new world of super heroics, the little boy embraces his new life and the responsibilities that come with it. 

STRIKE A VIOLENT POSE.  G 2,376 

There is something about Shazam that Clark really doesn't get, until he does 

A Christmas Peril  M 

The ghosts of Christmas past present and future have fallen upon the Wayne household when three mentally and physically abused children come to stay. Its horrible enough that Jon has been isolated due to the destructive capabilities of his powers. Or that Billy has been left orphaned and homeless. But when Batman learns what Talia has been putting his son through. It might just push him over the edge. This leads to an overly publicised custody battle between Gotham's billionaire playboy and the wealthy religious socialite with a cult following and an assassination hobby. 

The Outsider  T 

Damian’s mission was simple. A routine drug bust that just happened to take place in Fawcett. Easy stuff. But while there, he runs into a kid with a heroic streak and a look that’s a bit too familiar. That meeting ends up changing his entire life. 

As Atlas Holds The World On His Shoulders  T 22,016 SERIES 

Billy was doing fine. Not great, but fine. He definitely didn’t need some billionaire from Gotham City of all places to throw at least 13 wrenches in his plan 

The Butler's Apprentice  T  

Billy Batson, fiercely independent and a homeless part-time superhero, finds himself in the streets of Gotham with no money, no food, and no voice. Unable to transform into Captain Marvel (Shazam), he gains unexpected help in the form of a polite and respectable butler. 

The One With The Bat's Son  T 3,405 

“Batman has seven kids.”  Wally blinked. “You’re shitting me.”  “Not even a little, I just overheard him and Supes talking.”  “Oh my god,” he breathed, staring at Hal incredulously. “You don’t think -?”  Hal nodded, slowly and seriously. “Batman could be Captain Marvel’s dad.” 

The Time Lost In Between  T 34,780 SERIES 

Everyone knows Batman knows everything about everyone, no matter how secretive they might be. What everyone doesn't know is that the Dark Knight knows nothing about Captain Marvel, no matter what he does to try to. And now, he thinks he might just have a lead, a lead that would finally let him tear apart the puzzle that's troubled him for so long. The only complication? Captain Marvel is wearing a dead man's face. 

Billy Accidentally Gets Kidnapped  NR 3,794 

Bruce needs some sleep, all the black haired blue eyed kids are starting to look the same to him. Billy just wants to do his job. In other words, I love the idea of Bruce accidentally kidnapping Billy, it happens in my other story too 

A Natural Progression  NR 92,427 SERIES 

Billy's in a bad place. Consistently on the run from bullies and the like, unable to eat or find a stable place to sleep for more than a week Sure, he's Captain Marvel, but he'd never use his powers for his own gain. Thankfully, Alfred Pennyworth comes to the rescue. 

Billy Batson And The Troubles Of Work-Life Balance  T SERIES 

No one in the League could rightly say they knew exactly who, or what, Captain Marvel was. Billy Batson did not have any plans on changing that status. Maybe he should stop feeding into the rumor mill, then. 

Captain Marvel's Adopted?  T 8,504 

When Captain Marvel sends out a distress call, the only League member available is Batman. Bruce comes to his aid, but he finds out that Billy is a 10-year-old homeless orphan with black hair and blue eyes. Obviously, he makes the only logical decision and adopts Billy. Because it's Bruce—who's allergic to revealing life-changing information—the League is left in the dark. 

From The Shadows  T 88,074 

All Billy Batson wanted was to survive a particularly rough week living on the streets of Fawcett City. The last thing he was looking for was a new family. All Bruce Wayne wanted was to learn a bit more about his upbeat teammate under the guise of official Wayne Enterprises business. But he could never turn his back on a child in need. Especially one as surrounded by mystery as Billy. OR Billy gets adopted by the Batfamily while trying to deal with a strong magical enemy. 

The Marvelous Adventures Of The SuperBat Family  T 

Batman's suspicions that Captain Marvel is autistic snowball out of control and before he knows it he's playing father figure to an impressionable homeless kid along with Superman. There's nothing wrong with panicking and accidentally taking care of another kid, right? Now if they could just figure out why everyone seems to think that they're dating then they should have everything figured out. Right? 

Of Gods And Bats  T 

After Billy Batson gets attacked by something he doesn't understand, he decides to call Batman to help him find the source of the attacks. Little does he know, this sets up a series of events that will change his life forever. Billy has always been an orphan and has learned to take care of himself – but can he learn to accept help from others and really let someone know him? 

Like Going Through Hell On A Sunday  M 54,568 

Jason Todd has to bring Damian to Gotham for his protection, meets Billy along the way and just doesn't know how he's supposed to keep these kids safe while dealing with his trauma (aka killing that damn clown) 

Billy Batson And The Phantom  T 

When a video goes viral of a teenager, who looks strikingly like the superhero known as Captain Marvel, having lightning powers and fighting shadowy enemies, it results in a lot of rumors, theories, and worst of all, conspiracies, that the teen might be the Captain's illegitimate or secret son. Billy Batson, the person underneath the Captain Marvel transformation and a teenager at the tender age of fourteen-years-old knows there is literally no way that this teenager could be his child. Nonetheless, Superman encourages Captain Marvel to help aide in the search for the teenager in order to find out the true happenings of that night in the woods. Billy goes along with it, fearing that if he pushes too hard, he might reveal his secret identity and most of all, his true age, to the Justice League. Besides, how hard could it be to find one teenager? Billy really should have taken his own experiences to heart because as it turns it, the answer to that question is: very hard. 

Who's Old Now?  T 36017 

what happens when a twelve year old masquerading as an adult superhero calls his guardian, an adult who can also turn into a child superhero, on speaker phone, in front of the Justice League. 

[strangefa11]

This question may have a more obvious answer because I don't remember a lot of TMA.

How did Tim and Danny end up in Jon and Martin's care? What was their adjustment period like?

Furthermore, what was Jon and Martin's adjustment period like after ending up somewhere new? Do either of them have any of powers from their previous life?

Sorry if these are too much. I just really like your AU 😅

it’s not too much at all!! This did turn out super long though so there’re some details I had to skip… oops… but anyway I tried to go in chronological order. I hope this answers your questions tl;dr at the end :3

Okok so after MAG 200 Jon and Martin arrive somewhere else along with the fears. Their bodies come with them, so still have all their scars and marks (and also Jon is bleeding out lol). The somewhere else they end up in is similar to their original universe in some ways but also very different in others, for instance the Magnus Institute doesn’t exist. Because of the differences the fears also manifest differently than they used to, almost exclusively as (mostly) physical monsters rather than the more insidious metaphysical presence that they have in the podcast. Also no Leitners but I think that’s more because the fears only just arrived so they haven’t had time to appear yet (hint hint).

Jmart still have their connections to their entities as well as their abilities but those are also different, they focus more on the physical aspects of the entities as well. Jon isn’t omniscient anymore, he still Knows things occasionally but in general his abilities are a little more related to watching than archiving (the reason for that is an explanation all on its own so I’ll skip it for now in the interest of not making this TOO long). He also heals from being stabbed pretty immediately but I think that’s more of a one time thing than a consistent ability afterwards.

Martin’s abilities are mostly more specifically centred around fog and physical isolation than emotional distance. They're also a lot weaker than Jon’s (another explanation I’ll save for later lol)

They manage to get themselves together and get jobs and a home etc etc the specifics of all that don't really matter. They meet Tim a few years later while he's being chased by a monster (I think it's probably a Dark monster). They save him (Jon melts it or something).

Through talking to Tim they learn a few things 1) he’s definitely the somewhere else version of their Tim Stoker 2) he’s in foster care with his brother 3) he encountered the monster after sneaking out. After learning these things Jmart naturally do the responsible adult thing and help him sneak back into the house after making him promise not to sneak out again.

Obviously Tim wants to know more about the monster that tried to eat him so after some convincing they tell him he can visit them at the library Martin works at.

Tim starts visiting them semi-regularly, sometimes Danny comes along. Jmart tell him a little about the fears but not about their past at first. Eventually they learn from Tim that the foster home isn't great. It’s not outright abusive but the couple is very conservative christian and it’s just not a good fit. Tim doesn’t want to move, though, because he’s worried he and Danny will be separated.

They don't actually adopt Tim and Danny until after they’ve already gotten to know them fairly well, and they start with fostering them. So the adjustment period is a little more natural. I will say they definitely get to know and bond with Tim a lot faster than Danny. Danny definitely follows Tim’s lead though so he’s more inclined to trust them when he sees that his big brother likes them.

There’s a bunch more I could say about the specifics of the fear mechanics in the new world and the details of Tim and Danny’s history but this is already way longer than I planned so I’m gonna cut it here for now :’)

TL;DR: The fears are a little different in the new universe but Jmart do still have their fear abilities, they rescue Tim from a monster and eventually adopt him and Danny from their less than ideal foster home.

[velvetvexations]

a trend i've noticed when it comes to discussions around transandrophobia, specifically people's reactions to it, is that anti-transphobia people are very prone to cherrypicking

i almost never see the well thought out and reasoned posts discussing transandrophobia responded to at all by self-identified tmes who are transandrophobes and transradfems/TIRFs. the only posts they put up on their blogs as evidence of "the real nature of transandrophobia truthers" are ridiculously bad faith posts they found randomly that have like 2 notes and no one in the greater discussion takes seriously or backs up. in fact trans men discussing transandrophobia frequently do call out transmisogyny that does crop up.

but suspiciously they have NOTHING to say in response to the posts that actually talk about the theory, or evidence of transandrophobia and transandrophobic violence, none of that. they actively erase those discussions either by refusing to engage with them or by cropping out most of the post to completely misrepresent what's being said, because they probably know doing so will reveal to their circle, their followers, and themselves just how bigoted they are actually being. so instead they go hunting for the worst posts they can find to support confirmation bias and propagandize people against trans men

i think a lot of people have a strong vested in interest in ensuring that trans men can continue to be treated in this way, broadly and within these more niche queer and trans discussion circles. because i think a lot of people have gotten very used to and attached to the fact they have someone they can punch at with little to no consequence (or in fact be cheered on for it). furthermore, a lot of the support structures of their platforms rely on transandrophobia because a lot of their blogging is in response to a manufactured enemy in trans men. and also because people feel good having someone they can punch and feel powerful over. and i know at the end of the day these people are probably hurting in a myriad of ways as well and are lashing out but i only have so much patience and compassion for them when it has become as bad as it has

anyway i know this is kind of rambly so i hope it made sense. i just see so many great posts by trans men participating in the discussion and every time i look at the notes to see how people are engaging with what is being said, none of those big names you mentioned ever do. they never have any thing to say to those posts. and you can't tell me they aren't aware of them because i know they often stalk the blogs of the trans men in question. they're more interested in erasure and a manufactured image that they cultivate and control of trans men. if the word of those trans men's posts actually gets out to their audiences, said audiences might realize just how much they really are just transphobic frauds. i hope people will wake up and smell the coffee some day.

Some arguments rely entirely on keeping your audience from seeing what's being said. They know I've never harassed anyone or directed my followers to but but I was getting instantly blocked well before those accusations sprung up entirely because I left one disagreeing comment.

[acerolabread-on-ao3]

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his white hair, as if trying to smooth out the memory. “The man who killed her, Toji Fushiguro… he had a son.”

Nanami’s eyes flickered with surprise. “A son?”

Gojo nodded. “Yeah, Megumi. After I killed Toji, the Zenin clan was going to take him in—use him like a tool, the way they do with anyone they can control.” He paused, his expression darkening. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow, sensing where this was going. “So, what did you do?”

Gojo leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with the intensity that sometimes broke through his laid-back demeanor. “I took care of him. Made sure the Zenins couldn’t have him. He didn’t know what kind of power he had back then, but I saw it. And I wasn’t going to let him get dragged into that mess.”

Nanami listened closely, understanding the gravity of the situation. “So you’ve been looking out for him all this time?”

Gojo nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah. He’s a smart kid—sharp, tough. He doesn’t talk much, keeps a lot to himself, but he’s got potential. I made sure he got into Jujutsu High when the time was right.”

Nanami considered this for a moment, impressed but unsurprised that Gojo would step in like that. “And how is he now?”

Gojo’s smile widened, pride evident in his voice. “He’s doing great. He’s already learned to use the Ten Shadows Technique— Megumi’s strong, but he’s also got a good heart.”

Nanami was genuinely impressed by Gojo. He hadn’t expected this level of responsibility from him—taking Megumi under his wing, protecting him from the Zenins, and guiding him into his potential. It was a side of Gojo that few ever saw, a maturity that Nanami hadn’t thought possible.

He studied Gojo for a moment, a subtle shift in his perception of the man before him. Gojo had always been powerful, confident, almost untouchable in his carefree arrogance. But this... this was different. It wasn’t just about strength or talent anymore—Gojo had taken on the responsibility of shaping a young life, of shielding Megumi from a dark future.

“You’ve really grown up, Gojo,” Nanami finally said, his tone even but carrying a weight of respect that hadn’t been there before.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Coming from you, Nanami, I’ll take that as the highest compliment.”

you can read my fic on Ao3 ⤴️🫶

[ask-mister-mystery]

“Coooool…” Stan says, now finally understanding things. It would be a lie to say that the boy wasn’t still a little bit reticent. After all, after what they had seen already in Gravity Falls he and Ford knew the supernatural wasn’t to be messed with. But this was different, this was just Aggie after all! He could trust her. Especially after what had just happened. Something about the fact that he now knew someone who could twist Thistle Downe into a pretzel with her mind if she chose made him…well…intrigued.

“With great power comes great responsibility…” Stan whispered to himself, quoting one of his favourite comics, as Aggie mentioned about not using the power on others. Whilst she wasn’t meant to, he sure was glad she had broken the rules just to assist him

“You’re like a superhero Aggie...” Stan said, now feeling somewhat awed. He was surprised at how quickly he was accepting all of this. Maybe he realised that he having spent a lifetime around his twin brother who was so often rejected for who he was, it would be the height of hypocrisy to do so here now.

“You saved my life and you didn’t even break a sweat…”

Stan pauses. The smile drops from his face. The words sink in slowly, but once he’s understood what she meant he knows nothing will be the same. It’s like they’re being etched with a chisel onto a slab of marble.

“Wait, you did that?” Stan says, his voice a strangled yelp. He fights an involuntary urge to scoot away from Aggie, as though she’s dangerous to him right now.

“I thought I was just really lucky…” Stan said in a small hollow voice. He felt like the biggest fool imaginable. So much for all those fighting skills he thought he had.

So many questions run through his mind. Why for one thing. I mean he knows she said it was because they were friends but that was a lot just for him.

“Are…are you magic or something?” Stan said, choosing a question that to him seemed less awkward. “Like I read in comics about these people who have telekinetic powers, is it like that?”

[somethingsketchy3]

so about those s3 spoilers…👀

ANYWAYS, yippee it’s done. my first, fully illustrated and rendered piece since *checks calendar* a long time. im good on anatomy, don’t ask me to draw backgrounds (yet)

the brain rot of them has gotten me through my spring semester of junior year and I simply CANNOT wait till I see them again. I’ll take whatever crumbs I can get from the season and draw out the rest on my own :)))

[redcell6]

Non-Stop Spider-Man #2 Variant

illustrated by Takashi Okazaki

[mysteryanimator]

I CAN MAKE THEM KISS BECAUSE I CAN

This is loosely based of @fallloverfic's fic Your Reluctant Demon! Specifically the ending of chapter 8! I am glad y'all enjoyed those wips and I hope to do more silly scenes like these in the futureeee

(More high res ver on my twitter here on MysteryRatedR)

Also some backgrounds I made for this! The 3D aspect of it was done in Maya and then I painted over the top!