#and that HUSK would be the one to start it i would've laughed at your face 😭

[lukmarc10]

can we talk about how much husk has changed since the pilot?

like he literally went from this grumpy, easily annoyed, ‘i hate all of you’ type of character to the fucking THERAPIST FRIEND OF THE GROUP???

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Selfish - Alastor x Reader Oneshot

You face-planted on your bed, what semblance of energy you had left disintegrating and blowing away in the wind.

Today was too long a day.

Charlie needed some comfort after seeing the news roast the hotel again.

Vaggie needed to be calmed down because everyone got on her nerves.

Angel Dust needed a good hug and reassurance that he was worth something.

Husk had drank too much and threw the empty bottle at you when said as much. (He apologized afterward and the guilt made it easier for you to usher him to bed)

Lucifer was disassociating hardcore and you had to walk him through basic selfcare.

Nifty....Was Nifty.

Not that you minded that they needed different help here and there. Everyone needed a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to. And as far as you were concerned, it really was the least you can do. You couldn't fix their problems, but you can carry some of the load for them. That was...something, right?

A knock on the door made you grimace. Masking your agitation with a neutral expression, you opened your door to see none other than the Radio Demon himself.

He grinned down at you, his arms crossed behind his back, his posture straight, his clothes smooth and unwrinkled.

But...his grin seemed a bit strained, at the corners.

Alastor was difficult to comfort as he insisted he didn't have emotions anyway. And he hated to be touched. And his favorite food was raw venison or demon meat. So most of your techniques didn't have much ground.

However, he did love to laugh. So when he needed it, you would often play the role of a clown.

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms across your chest and looked up at him with an exaggerated grin.

"Whazzzzah?" You said, intentionally making your voice nasally and high pitched.

Alastor picked you up like a suitcase and carried you back to your bed, sitting you down on the edge of it and kneeling in front of you. His expression didn't change as his eyes flicked over you.

You swallowed thickly. "Er...What bees the ups my dudes?"

No change in expression. No confusion, no mild irritation.

You started to get fidgety. Maybe you needed some new material? You like doing the funny voices and the purposely incorrect grammar, but if he was sick of it it'd be-

You train of through abruptly derailed as Alastor's hand came up to cradle your face. The other one brushing some of your hair out of your eyes. One claw lightly grazed your skin and you winced.

"So Husker's little fit did hurt you, hm?" He said, pressing the pad of his thumb against a spot typically hidden by your bangs - now adorned with a partially scabbed-over cut.

You winced again "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, my dear. I heard what happened between the two of you. The drunkard got a bit too brash and ended up hurting you."

You sighed "It was an accident."

Alastor's eyes narrowed "Ah yes, it's always an accident with you."

You met his glare "What do you mean by that?"

The Radio Demon waved his hand, materializing some first-aid equipment. He didn't even let you know when he applied some antiseptic to your cut making you hiss through gritted teeth.

"A little heads up would've been nice!"

"An accident, my dear."

You deflated immediately "Ah. Okay, sorry-"

"Thank you for proving my point." He cut you off, a slight growl to his voice. Alastor slapped a bandage over your wound and pulled back, glaring at you intently.

"Huh?"

He rolled his eyes "Everything everyone ever hurts you with is an 'accident' to you. No one ever means to hurt you."

You scowled "Husk didn't mean to hurt me!"

"You're allowed to be mad you know." He huffed "Even if it was an 'accident', you could be mad he threw a fucking glass bottle at you!"

"He didn't mean to." You insisted.

"And Charlie didn't mean to dump all her woes on you, and Vaggie didn't mean to make you play peacemaker, and Angel Dust didn't need you to be a therapist. And Lucifer didn't need you to play nurse. And nifty...." he trailed off, unsure how to categorize your helping Nifty today. He shook it off and met your eyes. You glared back at him and pushed him away.

"No! None of them meant to! I chose to-"

"Would it really kill you to be selfish once in a while?" He said, tilting his head. Red eyes narrowed as his ears pinned back on his head.

"Firstly, i'm already dead. Secondly, I'm always selfish!"

"Give me an example."

"WELL, Mister Everything-Is-My-Business, I slept in to like, noon, yesterday-!"

"Because you spent all night listening to Vagatha."

"-and yesterday I ate the last of the spaghetti-!"

"From the meal you skipped while you helped Nifty hunt bugs."

"I hid in my room all day-!"

"Due to everyone not paying any attention to your immense discomfort at their ruckus."

"...You're dumb." You said, crossing your arms across your chest. Alastor rolled his eyes and pushed you down so you were lying on your bed. His hands were on either side of your head as he leered over you.

"Despite doing nothing but listening to everyone's endless ramblings all day, you're immediate reaction upon seeing me is to play jester and make me feel better."

"You looked upset." You said.

Alastor sighed "Exactly your problem, my dear." He moved away so he wasn't pinning you to your bed, calmly removing his monocle to clean it before gingerly placing it back onto his face.

You rolled onto your side to watched him. "...I don't think it's a problem to care."

"It is a problem to care too much."

"Well, you don't care enough so I guess we even eachother out."

Alastor hummed, looking away from you. You bit your lip. Maybe...you pushed that too far? You never really held back the sass with Alastor, but he was already irritated....

"Ask me for something." He said.

"Eh?"

He snorted, ears flopping in agitation "As you said, you care too much, i care too little. So now we'll do this: you care less about what I want and you care more about what you want."

You blinked, confused "....That's. Oddly sweet of you?"

Alastor snorted in response, still locked in a staring contest with the opposite wall. There seemed to be a bit of red creeping up the sides of his face.... Now was he turning red because he was mad or because he was....flustered?

"So. Can i ask you for anything?"

"Within reason."

"....Can I get a hug?"

The record scratch was audible.

"You have the Radio Demon offering you to do a favor for nothing in return, and you ask for a hug?"

"That's what I want?" You said, snuggling underneath your duvet. "Don't worry about it if you don't wanna-"

"Oh for the LOVE OF!" Alastor cut himself off, grumbling something under his breath that did not sound as jovial as his permanent grin may imply.

The man briefly disappeared into a puff of shadows before reappearing under the duvet with you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head into his chest.

You laughed. "Was it that hard to just lift the blanket?"

"Quiet, you." Alastor muttered into your hair. You sighed contently, snuggling closer to him.

"Can I hug you back?"

He tensed up next to you, so you dropped it. Despite his insistence on you being selfish, he didn't push you any further. Instead relaxing more as you made no move to hold him.

"Thanks, Alastor. I'm gonna drift off, so you can head out if ya want." You mumbled into his shirt.

"We'll see."

You didn't bother trying to fight sleep, letting the exhaustion of the day catch up with you and your troubles drift away as you listened to the Radio Demon's heart.

Alastor was still there when you woke up, but don't you dare mention it.

[fraugwinska]

Could you do a backstory to Hard Day? Like, how Al decided to give up control, and the first time it happened 🥺🙏

Ummm... well, I may have gotten myself a bit lost in this one :D Idk, It's gotten quite out of hand, 2,5 k words... but...um yeah :D Praying you like it :> Attention - we cook with Chili, not salt today! (MDNI)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The hardest Day

„That's so unrealistic! I mean, in what world would a lion eat bugs instead of the fucking fat juicy PIG?!“

„It's a kids movie, asshole, shut up!“

The gang was sprawled out in front of the TV, blankets and popcorn everywhere. Charlie got her hands on a rare copy of 'The Lion King', and invited everyone to a 'nice, unproblematic, quiet' movie night. She didn't account for Angel's constant commentary, Husk's annoyed retorts to him or Niffty's gleeful giggling at the most unfitting scenes. Vaggie, frustrated by them, started adding to the chaos, sending scolding remarks in intervals at either of them, while Charlie tried to mediate in between songs – which she always sang along with.

You, however, were highly entertained – even though you didn't catch anything from the movie, just watching them was amusing enough. The only one missing was Alastor, who had 'business to attend' and was gone since breakfast ended.

He would've hated it anyway, you knew he had no interest in movies, let alone modern ones, and group activities like these were often straining on his patience. Although getting in the hotel last, you were the one who grew the closest to him. Why? You couldn't say definitively. Maybe it was because you never took his veiled jabs by heart. Maybe because you didn't treat him the way the others wanted you to – with care, with ignorance, with suspicion; but instead with respect, an open mind and without judgment. Maybe it was because you could challenge him – discussions about books you both read could last hours, with points given to either side equally – no winner, no loser, both richer.

You liked Alastor. Really liked him. You also had a silly, little crush on him, for a while now, but you kept that to yourself, nothing going further than a few flirtatious moments 'in good fun', calling each other 'doe' and 'buck' with a laugh. A joke between friends. Friendship, you decided, was enough for you, if it was for him.

The entrance doors slammed suddenly, making you all jump in your seats. Alastor stood at the door, looking... different. Stressed? You cocked a brow when you saw his eye twitch, while he sauntered over to the group.

„Al, do you want to join us? We're watching a movie!“, Charlie said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to the scene of 'Can you feel the love tonight'.

Alastor gave the TV set a judgmental smile and waved his hand. „Tempting, but it has been a rather hard day, I'll just take a drink and retreat to my room, dear.“ He left the group and went to the bar, your pair of eyes the only one following him. Something was NOT right. His smile was tight, his eyes wider than usual, his movements almost jagged instead of fluid. Niffty had jumped to the bar too, insisting on helping Alastor by retrieving a glass for his whiskey from one the higher shelves. In her eagerness to climb and get it, she didn't watch her steps careful enough, resulting in a few delicate wine glasses sliding from the shelfves and breaking into a hundred tiny pieces. Alastor's reaction was as unexpected as it was worrying – he always had a soft spot for Niffty, laughing over her antics and chaotic energy, often encouraging her even to produce more mayhem. This time, however, he started to scold the maid, who blinked at him with a big, guilty eye and trembling lips.

„Such indignation, really Niffty. Clean the shards at once, and try not to remain to be such a clumsy clot.“, he almost hissed, grabbing the bottle and a simple crystal glass before striding away hastily. Your eyes followed his figure until he turned the corner to the staircase, then you got up and comforted the little demon, helping her sweeping up the glass pieces while she sniffeled tears away.

You let your gaze swipe over the group, completely ignorant about what happened with Niffty, and Alastor. Ignorant of the blatantly obvious bad mood of the deer demon.

Turning to Charlie, you whispered to her that you had a headache and would be going to bed, to which she just nodded. No one acknowledged your leave, all eyes on the screen and still bickering noisily. A bunch of friends, you are, you thought annoyed with a shaking head.

Three flights of stairs later, you reached Alastor's room. You pressed your ear to the door, and heard dull bangs, like something was thrown, and a muffled voice. You knocked, and the room instantly stilled.

„Alastor, it's me.“, you said loudly, brows furrowed. „Are you okay?“

A few seconds of silence. „I'm just fine and dandy my dear.“

You put one hand on the door. He normally would open it, to speak with you directly, face uncomfortably close to face, just the way he liked it. But it stayed close.

„You didn't look fine.“, you stated. You were ever so stubborn.

„Well, I am fine. Now shoo, darling, good night.“

You stood in front of the wooden divider, contemplating. You could just go. Leave him be, wait until tomorrow. See if he would talk to you then. But then, there was your gut. And it told you Alastor wasn't well. And that just didn't sit right with you.

„Alastor. Please, let me in.“

No response, just hint of the prickling feeling of static electricity on your skin.

„I know something is bothering you, and I'm worried.“

No response. You breathe in and out.

„I'm not going anywhere until you open the...“

The door flew open, a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you into the room, violently. You stumbled and fell against a bookshelf, catching the fall with your hands to keep you upright. You heard a slam and a click – door closed, door locked. The static was everywhere now, flushing in waves over your body. You turned around -

Alastor was pacing like a wounded animal, he seemed fluffed up, as if every hair on his body had decided to stand up. His scleras were dark pits, blackest black, and in it his irises burned angrily in crimson flames, now focusing solely on you. The prey.

„So you came to test my patience too, dear?“, he snarled, his voice so distorted it ached in your ears. „It's not enough that that waste of cables destroyed two of my radio towers. Not enough that dozens of my most profitable souls have been rendered useless by an angelic bomb. Not enough that I not only had to put the disgraceful flat screened wretch back in his place, but also his vulgar boy toy and their brazen, attention-seeking brat.“

He grew in size as he ranted, you watched him reaching the ceiling, antlers scraping along the walls. „I manage my weakening territories, manage these imbeciles who think they can play overlords, I manage this sad excuse of a hotel, I manage the princess's unattainable ideas, and now, I also need to manage you, too, of all people? What a disappointm...“

„Stop.“

You held up a hand. Alastor growled, fluffing up even more, limbs cracking and static popping. „How dare y...“

„Stop.“, you said again. Your tone was calm, void of anger, or fear, neutral and steady. He stared at you, and you held his gaze. „Breathe, Alastor.“

You saw him fighting with himself. He fought against his instinct to oppose, to command, to put you into your place, to rip you apart. His elongated claws scraped over the floor, ripping deep ridges in the wood.

„Breathe.“, you repeated, firmer this time.

Slowly, gradually, Alastor shrunk. Breathed. Crumbled. Until he was back to his usual size and form, only with an exhausted expression.

You studied him – you've never seen him like that. He never allowed anyone to see him as something other than 'the radio demon': Powerful, unshakeable, quick on his feet and always one step ahead. How exhausting it must be. To always have the control also meant to always carry responsibility, to always fear impending failure.

Your heart whispered to you, and you followed it's advice. It could be the most stupid thing you could do, but you decided to do it anyway.

„Come here, Alastor.“

He looked at you, unsure, suspicious. You sounded commanding, but not harsh. Inviting. Like a hand, reached out to someone trapped. For a moment, you almost thought you ruined everything – his eyes left yours, they fell to the ground as he shifted on his feet.

But then – steps. Coming closer. Stopping right in front of you. And suddenly..

His head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck. His voice in your ear.

„Sometimes I'm so sick of it all. Sick of maneuvering, sick of ruling, governing, planning...“

You touched his neck, he let you, caressing the soft skin, heated from his outburst, trembling slightly at the contact. It was intimate, baring this vulnerable part to you. You heart broke for him.

He pulled himself away from you, searching for your eyes. Finding them again, he took your hand, bringing it up to his face, guiding your fingers over his lips. He just said one word.

„Please.“

So much was said with this please. You heard every message. Giving up control, just for a bit, just with something he didn't care enough about to insist on ruling, could be a small bit of freedom. Letting himself be guided instead of leading.

“Kneel down, Alastor.”

His ears pressed flat against his head, but he did as he was told. He couldn't look you in the eyes. For once, you were the one towering over him. You took his face in your hands, pulling it so he looked up to you, seeing your warm smile before your lips met his.

His breath hitched, stuck somewhere in his throat.

You slid one hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, the other caressing his cheek as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Slowly, the rigidity melted away, he started to shift, lips no longer stiff but soft and molding against your own.

He tried to stand up, but you pushed him down, gently, definitively.

“Trust me to guide you, buck.”

He breathed, one, two, three times, eyes closed, grin tight.

“Yes, doe.”

Your own excitement took a back seat. You were filled with pure energy at the thought of crossing the line with him, having Alastor in a way you only dreamed about, convinced your relationship would never come this far. But. But this was not about you, for now. Maybe, another time. If another time ever came.

You lowered yourself on him, straddling him, so you were still 'taller', and rejoined your lips. You took his hands and set them on your hips, let them rest there while you buried yours in his hair, tugging lightly to bend his head back. His initial resistance lessened, and he gave in, exposing his throat, gray skin peeking out of his high collar. You let your mouth travel to his jawline, down to the small patch of delicate, thin skin, right next to his jugular. You felt him tense, felt his rising urge to protect himself from your potential strike. You let out a soft hum as you started to lick it, sucking gently, just a bit, just to make him shiver at the sensation. And how he did.

A moan, low and sweet like the strumming of a cello, escaped him, his hands crushing your hips by the force of his grip. It hurt, but you decided to ignore it. Little steps.

“Can you take more, good boy?”

His eyes snapped open, burning furiously. You met them with calmness, with a soft matter-of-fact-ness. Not smug, not mocking. A question. Proceed or Stop?

Alastor swallowed hot saliva. You could see he was getting overwhelmed, overstimulated, and yet, he had such a longing in his eyes, such desperation.

“Yes.”

One simple word. One spark, setting your body on fire. You tried to force your trembling fingers to steady, lifting yourself slightly off him to open his trousers. With every button, his breaths grew heavier, his grip on your legs grew tighter, claws already digging in your skin and drawing blood.

“Careful, buck. I'll need these in a moment.”, you said, placing both hands on his chest, pushing him flat on his back on the ground. He let you go, arms falling useless next to him.

You leaned forward, thanking any deity that would listen you decided to wear a skirt today, and placed a hand on his growing bulge. He hissed at the touch, cracking the floor as his fingers clawed into the wood of the floor instead your fleshy legs.

Freed from it's cage, Alastor's dick was already dripping with beads of precum, a sight to behold. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the warmth and bloodflow, it twitched in your hand. You stroke him, eliciting the most sinful noises from the demon under you.

You took a deep breath. One more, one question more, to make sure that he wanted it.

“Look at me, Alastor.”

He sat up on his elbows, looking more helpless than you've ever imagined he could. Even his smile wavered, threatening to break. You were looking for any signs of hesitation, disgust, resistance, regret. You only found desire. A want, a need, almost pleading eyes.

Your free hand pushed your panty away, enough to expose your lips, and you lowered yourself onto him, his length slowly entering you. He was big, you were tight. A bittersweet combination. Sparks flew before your eyes as he stretched you, but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

They were blown wide, returned to black, but the irises now flickering into dials, turning, left to right as he groaned. You moved, guiding your hips up and down, feeling yourself molding to his shape in the most delectable way, and getting drunk off the look on his face.

You increased the pace on which you pushed yourself on him, adding a little tilt of your hips to take him even deeper. His voice was reduced to a static-y mess, hums and groans and moans bleeding into each other. You placed both of your hands on his chest for more support, inevitably pinning him down. His hands flew to yours, threatening to push them off him, but instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, panting heavily.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pressure, unbearable and urgent, his release approaching at godspeed.

“Doe, I can't...”

Panic in his tone. He tried to put his hands on your waist to pull you off. You understood immediately – an upbringing in conservative times, decades of living by the rules of a gentleman, he was resisting against the thought of cumming inside you. You pushed his hands away.

“Yes, you can.”, you stated, smiling at him, a hint of wickedness in your eyes. “And you will.”

Your skilled movements and dedicated demeanor sent him over the edge immediately. Protests were futile as he came in you forcefully, you felt his cock pumping his seed deep into you, hot and thick as you rocked him through his orgasm. Your own high wasn't worth chasing, too far away to matter. You didn't even think about it – nothing could feel better than this.

Alastor ran his hands over his forehead, sweeping away beads of sweat as his breath calmed down.

His hand shot out to grab you, and, still impaled by him, he pulled you into his chest, invading your mouth with his tongue to kiss you possessively. As if to transfer the command, the control he had given up, back to him. Taking it from you.

For a moment you were scared. The positions had reset to their default. Would that mean he'd push you off? Say goodnight and never talk about this night again? Returning to the Status Quo. Friends, the end.

Alastor pulled your chin up to look at you. His thumb ran over your cheek, tenderly and full of care. His eyes answered every question in your mind. You weren't scared anymore.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 8/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

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

When Keekee suddenly showed up at the hotel without her dad, Charlie had a slight moment of panic. Thoughts of 'oh my god, did they kill him?', 'is he locked up in Heaven???', 'I knew I or someone should've went with him', and 'please don't be dead dad!' went through her head.

Thankfully the cat familiar took pity on her and relayed her master's message and whereabouts. It didn't really stop Charlie from worrying but it eased her just a little bit to know that her dad is safe back home.

Charlie: I should go to him, right? To make sure he's really fine?

Angel: Toots, I think short king just needs a little time to himself. Just cos he said you can go doesn't really mean you have to go now.

Vaggie: I hate to say it but I think Angel is kinda right, surprisingly.

Angel: Oh fuck ya! I can give sound advices too, yaknow.

A chuckle from Cherri Bomb is what started a whole roasting session that they will surely laugh about later.

Cherri Bomb: Pfft, sure.

Angel: I do!

Husk can't help but join in on the teasing too.

Husk: Angel, just give up. You're gonna give that Fizzarolli guy a run for his money telling those jokes.

Angel: Gasp! Huskie, you too?! Betrayed by my own boyfriend.

Husk: I'm not your boyfriend!

The blush on the bartender's face could rival Alastor's outfit's shade of red. It became redder when Nifty let out a sinister-like gremlin laugh that no one in the hotel would like to hear if they can help it.

Nifty: Hehehehe. Not yet~

Angel: Husk, baby, have you been talking to others about your feelings fo' wittle old meeee?

Husk: No!

They continue to bicker and Charlie can't help but look at them with adoration. All of them have come so far and she can confidently say that they have evolved into somewhat of a family unit. A bit dysfunctional but she won't have it any other way.

Vaggie: Why don't you let the man sleep for a bit.

Charlie: I just worry, Vaggie..

The soft look her girlfriend gave her would've melted Charlie into a lovesick puddle if she wasn't so preoccupied with her dad.

Vaggie: I know, babe.

Alastor: I do have to agree with them, dear.

The ex-exorcist yelped in surprise at Alastor's sudden presence beside them while Charlie had grown accustomed to the man's nasty habit of sneaking up on people. Maybe she should invest a bell for him. Hmm... She wonders if her dad can make Al wear one.

Vaggie: Jesus, Alastor!

Charlie: You too, Al?

Alastor: Why don't you join us for a meal first, hm? That should give your father enough time to rest. I seem to remember that it was your turn to set the table, isn't that right, Vagatha?

Vaggie grumbles something in Spanish that Charlie is sure is a curse word but doesn't argue anymore.

Vaggie: Everyone, dining hall. Now!

And just like that, everyone stopped talking and went straight to the kitchen, leaving just Keekee, Charlie, and Alastor in the lobby.

Charlie absentmindedly pets Keekee who climbed up in her arms while looking at her family fondly. She takes notice of Alastor next to her sporting the same look as hers.

She's glad that he's opening up bit by bit. She wonders if her dad had anything to do with that or if Alastor just learned to trust on his own.

Speaking of Al and her dad. That's a can of worms that she was, at first, afraid to open. She's happy for her dad, don't get her wrong, but there's still days where she misses her mom. Sometimes, if she's in a really bad place, she imagines her mom coming back and all three of them living happily ever after again.

With Alastor in the picture, she became a bit afraid. Of being replaced as the most important person in her dad's life or how her once dream happily ever after will never be reality, she doesn't know.

But seeing Alastor's genuinely care for her dad; never leaving his bedside after the Roo debacle, leaving Marigold's everywhere (how romantic is that, Vaggie!), and providing solace for her dad that she knows she can't always give. Those actions told her that maybe despite not getting her original happy ever after with her mom and dad, she can always dream of a new one.

There's something different about Alastor right now, though. He looks more stiff than usual but sagging at the same time. It could be also be worry but Charlie thinks she knows Alastor enough to tell that he's irritated. And he's definitely leaning into his cane more.

Alastor, probably feeling her stare, sighs.

Alastor: What is it, my dear?

Charlie at least had the decency to be flustered for staring.

Charlie: Sorry, Al. But um... are you okay?

Alastor: Whatever do you mean?

Charlie: It's just- you look, I don't know, irritated? Or like annoyed? I know I sound hypocritical but dad's gonna be alright.

Alastor: I appreciate the sentiment, Charlie, but I have full faith in your father. He is not the source of my... mood. Not directly, anyway.

He accidentally said the last part instead of just thinking about it but thankfully it was quiet enough that Charlie didn't caught it.

His answer just made Charlie more confused. Tilting her head, she looks at the radio demon quizzically.

Charlie: So you are in a mood?

Alastor: Nothing for you to be worried about, my dear! It might just be my cravings.

Charlie: For... human flesh?

He gives her one of his more sinister grins, the one she's seen when he's hungry for blood (and not the cannibal kind). He's just being silly, she thinks to herself. She made a note to ask her dad about partner choices later.

Alastor: Fried fish.

And with that, Alastor disappears into the kitchen. Keekee purrs in Charlie's hold as her eyes trail the retreating shadow.

Charlie: What a creepy guy, huh.

Her pet only meows in response.

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

This wasn't how this chapter was supposed to end but I decided to cut it in half anyway.

Tomorrow is some meal moments and Charlie going to see her dad.

Don't worry, we'll get back to Luci in a bit!

[trensu]

When Husker shows up at his door, he squints at him suspiciously.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Husk asks.

Angel starts to lean flirtatiously into his space, a salacious come on right on the tip of his tongue. He catches himself halfway and quickly straightens himself with an awkward laugh.

"Just somethin' I found in the back of the closet," he lies through his teeth.

He had Cherri go shopping with him for a good outfit for his date. That had failed spectacularly. He had forgotten that Cherri's idea of fashion involved singed tops and torn bottoms. With extreme reluctance, he went to Vaggie for help. He figured she was such a prude that she'd find him an outfit easily. He would've gone to Charlie but Charlie wouldn't be able to curb her enthusiasm and would probably let slip what was happening which would ruin the surprise for Husk.

Vaggie pulled through and Angel didn't think he looked too bad in it. The way Husker looks at him now makes him think he may have overestimated his looks for once.

"Sure," Husk says flatly. "You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course!" Angel stutters like a moron.

"Alright," Husker says after a beat.

Husk gives Angel another suspicious look, shoulders tense and wings pulled close. Something shifts in his expression that Angel couldn't read. He's afraid it might be disappointment, but then Husker shakes out his wings and offers Angel his arm which Angel accepts with relief.

"So, where ya takin' me, Huskie?"

Husker tells him about a little place with good food, better drinks, and a live jazz band. As they walk out of the hotel, Angel almost cozies up against Husk, so tempted to rub his cheek against Husker's silky ear. He catches himself again and over-corrects by pulling away from Husk until their linked arms are the only point of contact. Husk stumbles a bit with the weight shift. He opens his mouth to say something but appears to change his mind and snaps it shut.

That was okay, though, right? Husker wasn't much of a talker anyway! Angel filled the silence between them with nervous babble. Angel normally was a good talker but tonight he keeps having to stop and restart midsentence when his stories get un-classy. Husker grunts every now and then but it's clear he's only listening with half an ear. It doesn't help Angel's nerves at all.

The date goes downhill from there.

Angel is so focused on keeping himself in check he barely eats his food. He only takes one drink because he knows how he gets when he's drunk and he can't be getting too handsy with Husk. Husker doesn't speak very much so of course Angel overcompensates with his babbling. Husk had to hush him during the jazz show. It filled Angel with so much shame because he knew how much Husker liked jazz and here he was ruining the experience for him. Husk holds his hand through the rest of the show which helped a little.

But when they left the joint, Husker didn't offer his arm again. He didn't even walk very close to him. They're halfway back to the hotel when Husk clears his throat.

"You didn't have to say yes," Husk says, eyes averted.

"What?" Angel asks in confusion. Husk sighs, stopping in his tracks to look at Angel straight on.

"When I asked you out," Husker says, his tone going to his usual bored gruffness. A tone he hasn't used towards Angel in a long time. Angel felt his stomach drop as Husk continued. "You didn't have to say yes."

"What?" Angel asks again like some kind of idiot. He wonders if he sounds as shaky and pathetic as he feels.

Husker's voice goes flatter even as his tail lashes back and forth.

"You should’ve said no if you didn't want to...be with me. We woulda been fine."

"Huskie--"

And finally some of that soft, hidden sincerity crept back into Husker's voice.

"I'd still be your friend, Legs," Husker says, gazing into Angel's eyes. "I wouldn't abandon you over that."

"No! I-I--"

Husker looks away with a bitter grin. It hurt Angel so much to see it.

"I'd need a day to lick my wounds, but I knew it was a long shot anyway. I woulda come back," Husker shrugs when he finishes and continues walking back to the hotel.

Angel stood in place, floored by how badly he fucked up. He noticed his breathing going erratic and did his best to do the calming breathing thing Charlie taught them all. It sorta worked, enough to send him running to Husker again.

"Husker, wait!" he shouts.

He catches up quickly (he can't go too far too fast with those short legs, Angel thinks fondly). Dodging around Husker's wings that were quivering with tension, Angel grabs the crook of his arm to spin him around towards him.

"I did want! Husk, I wanted ta say yes, I wanted ta go on this date so bad," Angel says desperately, feeling a telltale burning around his eyes and hating himself for it.

Husker's temper breaks. His wings flair open and his tail whips side to side aggressively.

"Then why are you acting so fucking fake? With the clothes and you treating me like I got the fucking plague! I thought we were done with that bullshit," Husker said furiously.

"Cuz I wanted ta...I wanted ta be good for ya, Husk," Angel chokes out, shoulders slumped in defeat. "You like classy. I wanted ta be a good, classy sorta guy for ya. I-I fucked up. I always fuck this shit up. I don't mean ta do it."

Angel stares at the crumbling sidewalk, blinking back tears. Husker doesn't say anything for a long time. Angel is about to turn tail when Husker speaks again.

"You fucking dumbass," he says with that warm fondness that had been missing all night. Angel's head snaps up at his words. That cocky little smirk Angel first saw after Husk had pulled him out of self-destruction at the club has replaced the angry slant of Husk's mouth.

"Hey!" Angel protests with a cautious smile. Husk rolls his eyes.

"Don't expect compliments if you're gonna act stupid," Husk says and offers his arm to Angel. "You're already classy enough for me, Legs."

Angel takes his arm and looks down at him slyly.

"But not good, huh?" Angel tries to tease but Husker doesn't take it.

Instead, Husk looks at him intensely and says firmly, "If this redemption shit the princess keeps talking about ain't total bullshit then, out of all of us, you'd be the one to make it, Angel."

"Oh," Angel says, stunned, then adds to cover how it made his heart beat hard, "Husker, ya big ol' flirt. I betcha say that ta all the pretty boys."

"Fuck you," Husk says with a smile. Angel bats his eyes and lets his voice go all breathy.

"Oh, yes! Please, daddy," Angel simpers. He adds a loud moan for good measure. Husker throws his head back with a rough, loud laugh Angel's never heard before. He knows immediately he wants to hear it again forever.

By the time Husk drops Angel off at the door of his room, the pair of them have relaxed significantly. Angel opens the door slightly to peek in on Fat Nuggets. After he makes sure his Nugs is sleeping, Angel catches Husk's sleeve before he could make a sneaky escape.

"Hey, Husk? Could we get a do-over? A new first date so I can do it right?" Angel asks shyly. The corner of Husk's mouth quirks up.

"Depends. You gonna wear that stupid outfit again?"

"Oh baby," Angel says, plastering himself against the door frame in one of his sexiest poses. "I'm gonna wear my sluttiest dress just for my handsome kitty. Everyone's gonna wish they were you when they see us togetha."

Husk snorts.

"When you put it like that..."

"You can put it wherever ya want, daddy," Angel flirts. He's only half-joking. Husker rolls his eyes in good humor.

"A do-over sounds good."

Angel drops the pose instantly, beaming at Husk.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Angel melts at the small smile that accompanies Husk's assurance.

"Next week?"

Husker nods in agreement.

"Great!" Angel said, probably a little too enthusiastically.

Before Angel could lose his nerve, he dips down and presses a meek kiss on Husker's cheek. When he pulls back, Husker's eyes are as wide as saucers and his wings are flared and puffed up in a way Angel hadn't seen before. If Angel didn't know any better, he'd say Husker was downright flustered. And oh god, Angel wanted to make him blush all over, he'd be so cute in bed.

" 'night, Huskie!" Angel said quickly and slammed the door closed behind him.

After nearly tearing himself out of the uncomfortable clothes, Angel crawled into bed wearing only his boxer briefs. Next time, he thinks to himself in joy and disbelief. I get a next time.

He knows it will be perfect because next time he'll be himself. Angel. Because that's all Husker wanted. Just Angel.

He curls up around Fat Nuggets and allows himself one small, quiet, happy squeal.

tfw your crush isn't moved by your usual means of wooing and seduction so you overcorrect and think becoming the Classiest Bitch will work better

(edit: this is mostly just for sillies, I don't think he'd actually do this)

[ddarker-dreams]

*2.2 event quest spoilers* Idk if u meant it like this but i love how in ur new scara piece everything is so scary and serious and then at the end its just like “love him lots hed be over the moon” like his desires are just so simple yet everything is so screwed bc his pride and past experiences make him behave a certain way idk how to explain it but ur writing is so good like if actual scaramouche ends up being any different than your characterization of him I will just ignore it

as i've started scooping up scraps of scaramouche lore that mihoyo scattered like a chicken feeding on seeds i've come to the same conclusion . i had thought about collecting all the snippets of scara lore and slapping them in one place to post here, perhaps i'll get to that over the weekend? anyway, onto my thoughts ...

scaramouche bitterness is an integral part of him. there have likely been opportunities for him to move on from the past, but why would he do that, when he could simmer in his rage and think about all that could've been. he was abandoned. left to rot, abandoned by a god, who is worshipped across the globe in reverence. the fatui would've abandoned him to if not for a single factor: his strength. it's strength that gets you somewhere in this world then, would be his conclusion. so he'll become strong. strong enough where he'll imprint himself into the memories of others, never again will he be forgotten, a facet of history left to gather dust.

you can't leave him because he won't give you the chance. you can try, in fact, he's certain that you'll try, it's this anticipation that keeps you locked under such strict scrutiny. he knows the tells. the guilty avoidance of eye contact, the attempts to justify yourself, apologies that aren't backed by action. he knows it well because he's been through it before. once is more than enough to shatter a person's sense of self. he had to pick up the pieces, each shard making his hands bleed more than the last, placing them together in a crude image of what he wants to be. someone worthy of acknowledgement.

if you were ever to learn about his past, you'd almost find him pathetic enough to pity. almost. here is this husk, this puppet, forcing himself into your life like a parasite and never taking no for an answer. you don't know whether to laugh or cry about it. scaramouche safeguards his past for this very reason, only revealing snippets over time in rare moments of vulnerability. where his sense of judgment is impaired just enough to show what he'd come to regret later.

it doesn't matter if you think little of him. when he's your entire world, then is that not enough?

[halfbloodsnowy]

Chapter 13: Freedom and Betrayal

More on: Archive of Our Own

9:29 DRAGON - The Circle Tower in Ferelden

Kena felt jittery, her brain still buzzing after the Harrowing. She stared at the floor on her way to speak to Irving, the mottled green of the carpet's fibers forming strange patterns that helped calm her mind.

She was thinking about Jowan, what he had said about his Harrowing being continuously postponed made her worry, especially now that she had been put through it before him. It didn't make sense why they were waiting so long. Jowan was a damn good mage, stronger than the other apprentices their age. Why weren't they testing him? She was afraid Jowan was right, and that Irving really was going to force him through the rite of tranquility.

The thought sickened her.

Jowan had seemed so afraid at the thought of tranquility, and who wouldn't? To lose everything about yourself, your emotions, your personality, some of the apprentices thought it was worse than death.

Her heart broke for him, and though Kena knew she was being utterly selfish, the thing that petrified her most was losing his friendship.

She didn't think she could bear seeing the emotionless husk of Jowan daily, knowing he'd never laugh again, never tell her one of his stupid jokes or hug her when she was down. Kena took a deep breath, she was starting to panic. Panicking wouldn't help Jowan.

The sudden clink of armor startled her, and she stopped in her tracks.

"K-Kena!" Cullen called, standing awkwardly to her right, by the wall.

Why is he just waiting here? How strange.

"I… um, how are you?" he added dumbly, his arms dropping to his sides like a chastised school boy.

"I'm good, is there something you needed Cullen?" asked Kena, and she looked around to make sure no one was watching. She just awoke to another rumor being repeated about Cullen's supposed infatuation with her, and she didn't want to fuel more. 

"Wh-what?" he seemed confused, before shaking his head and awkwardly rubbing the side of his temple and laughing nervously. "Oh, um, right. No, no nothing, I'm just… uh, glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly," he stuttered.

"Oh," said Kena, faking cheer, "thank you!"

"Th-they picked me, as the templar to strike the killing blow if… if you became an abomination," he was speaking quickly, as if he had to get it off his chest before it crushed him. "It's nothing personal, I swear!" 

They what?!

"Oh," Kena's heart was racing, she was scared. She'd already made it through, but knowing he would have killed her was a dizzying revelation.

Everyone knew that the mages who didn't pass their Harrowing quietly disappeared, and yes, some of the others theorized death, but she hadn't realized they were killed in the very Circle Tower she called home.

Her blood ran cold remembering the few apprentices who were just suddenly gone, and now she knew, killed by the templars that claimed to be protecting them.

Templars like Cullen.

It was so heartless that it frightened her. She also felt very dumb saying "oh" over and over, but she wasn't exactly sure what else to say. He was a templar, it was his duty to kill abominations, and the Harrowing had turned out to be a test to see if she'd become one.

No wonder it was so secret.

"I… uh, I'm just glad you're all right. You know," Cullen continued.

But she was too distracted by her racing thoughts to hear the relief in his voice, "I… you'd have really killed me?" she blurted out.

That was the dumbest thing to ask! Maker, why am I like this?

"I would've felt terrible about it…" he said.

She wasn't even sure why she asked, and she regretted it. The idea that the templars had been watching them, everyday, knowing that they'd be tasked with killing them at any moment. How could Cullen confess to such a thing? She'd be ashamed to admit it, even if it was necessary. It just seemed so pointless to say out loud.

Why did he have to say anything at all?

She felt sick, and nervous, and so much worse than before. What if she had failed? She'd be dead and gone, and no one would know where. Struck down by the templar she thought most understood their plight.

A templar everyone said cared about her in a way he really shouldn't. And perhaps it was because she'd started to think of him in the same way that she found his revelation all the more upsetting. Her skin prickled, and she grabbed her own arm for comfort.

"--but… I serve the chantry, and the Maker, and I will do as I am commanded," he continued, and he seemed to be pleading with her to understand, but his voice sounded muffled, like she was listening to him from under water.

She forced a smile, but something had shifted in her view of the Circle. Of him, and she wasn't happy.

"Well, thank you, I shouldn't distract you from your duties--" she started, desperate to get away.

"Oh, you're not distracting!" he blurted out, "I mean, you are, but…well you're not…" he pinched his brow, his face a shade of red she'd never seen before, and he seemed very frustrated with himself, "I mean, you can talk to me anytime if you want."

Kena's urge to flee the uncomfortable conversation was unbearable, and she was blushing furiously. Could she please stop? She hated how easily her emotions bled out onto her skin. On full display for the world to see.

For him to see.

He seemed so desperate to keep talking, but it was clear their conversation had come to its end, "Uh… uh, yes. Maybe we can talk another time."

"I, of course, thank you Cullen," she mumbled, "good day."

"Good day, Amell," he said after her, but she was already hastening away.

She suddenly hated very much how he said her name.

9:36 - DRAGON - Aeonar

Her whole body ached like she'd been beaten by a battalion of templars and her head was pounding.

For a moment, Kena thought she was back at Kinloch Hold. What strange memories and dreams she'd been having! Like watching the most mundane parts of her life play out all over again.

A fierce gust of wind jolted her awake, and she was suddenly very aware of how freezing cold the stone floor was beneath her. So she sat up, and just barely glimpsed a blur of light hastening out of the front door.

The sound of impossibly loud thumps punching through the air reverberated into her bones. There was a roar, and it looked like a high dragon soaring into the sky.

The sky? The sky!

The beautiful, cloudy gray expanse just outside of Aeonar's door seemed to reach for her, pull her forward.

And a dragon?

Her eyes were like saucers, and she felt her heart battering against her ribcage. She couldn't fathom how much strength it must've taken for the creature to move so quickly.

"A dragon?" she whispered aloud. It was all she could truly understand in the moment, and then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

It was the elf, the one from the night before, and her memories began to return. He seemed different now. Less strange.

She laughed.

"I hope this is real," she muttered aloud again, feeling very stupid, but her mind was quickly catching up and she felt blood flowing into her limbs again.

"I hope so too," he murmured in response, and she realized that she very much enjoyed the sound of his voice. It was so different from the gruff templars, and from Lily, and from herself.

She decided at that moment that she quite enjoyed different . She wanted to forget everything that had happened, and being around the same old, same old wouldn't help with that.

"Lily!" Jowan screamed, popping up like a puppet.

The familiarity of his voice forced a sick feeling into her belly, he reminded her too much of the Circle, of better days that only served to remind her how awful her present was.

"Maker's mercy!" Lily groaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, "I've never… was that the fade…"

Amell watched, quietly, as Jowan turned to Lily and began to sob, "You're ok!"

Lily's eyes welled up and she covered her mouth, "Jowan…"

Jowan reached out to her, placing a hand on her face, and when she didn't pull away, he wrapped her in his arms, "Maker I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Lily… forgive me…"

"Jowan," Lily cried again, and buried her face into his shoulder. They held each other, sobbing uncontrollably, and Amell felt awkward. As if she was watching something very private.

She looked away.

"This is real," she whispered to the elf, and she tasted bile, "Jowan always sounded like a trapped mouse when he cried, the demons could never quite get that right."

"Are you alrig--" the elf began, but she suddenly felt her toes again, and she jumped to her feet.

Outside, I must get outside…

It was an instinct, an urge so great she couldn't control it. It felt like she was watching herself from far away. She was pretty sure she shoved the elf out of the way as she bolted for the outside, slamming her arm against the wicket gate in her haste, and skidding to a stop on the rough ground.

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the blinding, sunless sky.

_____

It was gray, filled with clouds, but it was beautiful. Bright, so much brighter than she could remember any sky and she screamed in animalistic glee at the pain in her eyes. The pain was real, so it felt good, and she tried to keep them open.

"YES!" she screamed, kicking and punching into the open air in excitement. She knew full well she probably looked very stupid, but she didn't care.

She was free.

Free, I'm fucking free!

The cold air bit at her skin, the breeze so fresh she felt her lungs purging the filth of Aeonar with every exhale. She laughed, uncontrollably, wildly. She was brimming with energy, and she suddenly found herself rolling amongst the wildflowers, scraping her skin against the rocks and hungrily inhaling the musty stench of mud.

"Are you alright?!" called the elf.

Was he talking to her? She didn't care either way. The ecstasy of freedom was fueling her delirium. She was literally crackling with so much energy she couldn't contain it. The grass around her singed at the whips of electricity snapping off her.

This has to be real!

Kena rolled onto her back in the tallest grass, breathing hard, and the magic quieted, dissipating into static in the air.

Freedom, real, undeniable freedom. She closed her eyes, enjoying the winter air, and the gentle breeze caressing her skin. The goosebumps on her arms pinched painfully. Her body was terrified and in love with the vast openness of the world.

She wanted to fall into the sky.

There was a crunching near her head, and she opened her eyes to see the elf man staring down at her. He had a small, kind smile on his face, though just enough of the wolfishness remained to give her pause.

She felt her cheeks turning pink, he was handsome, so painfully handsome and strange. Was this really something she wanted to waste her time thinking about fresh out of prison?

Already back to being naive and stupid eh?

He offered a hand, and Kena reminded herself not to trust someone just because they seemed kind and handsome. She'd already suffered enough for that brand of stupidity.

So she steeled herself, and rose to her feet on her own, "I'm fine, thank you," she said, colder than she intended.

"Of course," he said, and awkwardly withdrew his hand. He leaned his weight against his staff, drawing in and releasing a long and exhausted breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, "What happened last night… it was rough."

His voice was deep, but he sounded nervous, and the way he was looking at her… he seemed like he was studying her for something. He looked at her the way the enchanters looked at the stupid puzzles they obsessed over in the Circle.

What did he really want? 

"Kena Amell?" he said, and she realized she had gone and disappeared into her own mind again.

"What? Oh, yes, yes," she closed her eyes and basked in a fleeting ray of sun for a moment, before the clouds sealed it away once more. "I'm fine, and thank you, for…" she shuddered, opening her eyes to meet his, "saving me from the demon."

She figured he deserved that much, but she didn't feel ready to think deeply about what had happened in the nightmare. As far as she was concerned, it was the past and she was ready to forget it ever happened.

"I didn't," said Galel, and she was confused.

"But… then who?" she suddenly had a memory of a strange laugh, and an old woman's voice. But it was hazy, far away.

Galel raised an eyebrow, "You can't remember?"

Her brain was starting to hurt, and she just wanted to roll in the grass again, "No, I…" she bit her lip, unwilling to waste energy on speculation, "I don't, not really."

He forced a tired smile, "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. We're alive, and I'm glad you made it."

Kena smiled awkwardly at him, his eyes were iridescent, deep brown and unlike any she'd ever seen before. 

Why are you like this Kena?!

But despite her supreme disappointment in herself for once again falling into the pits of fantasy, she found that staring into the unknown was comforting. Perhaps it meant change, something different than the nightmare she'd been thrust into.

"I'm glad you made it too," she mumbled, before looking over her shoulder at the Aeonar's quiet entrance. "Do you think they'll get done hugging anytime soon?

He followed her gaze, and chuckled.

"Let's hope so."

____________________

He felt nervous around her. Why was he nervous? There was an energy that buzzed off of her skin that seeped under his own in a way he had never felt from another mage before.

The feeling unsettled him.

"I should go check on them," said Galel, looking into the Aeonar's front doors. They had been magicked shut, but now lay comically open. Their magic lock stood no chance against the power in his blood.

He felt the sting of the cut on his hand, and tucked it under his cloak. He wasn't sure how Kena would feel about his use of blood magic, and he thought it better not to agitate her right now.

"What happened to the templars? And the abominations? You'd think they'd have torn us all apart as we slept…" she said, her voice was crackly, weak, but her spirit was strong. He could feel it, shaking the veil around him.

She was right of course, and Galel suddenly realized that it was strange no templar had woken yet, or come after them. What had happened to the rest of the prison's inhabitants?

But his speculation was cut short at the appearance of Jowan and Lily.

He heard Amell suck in a breath.

Jowan met Kena's gaze, and his face erupted into a smile.

"Kena!" he called, running over to her. But she stepped back at his approach, and Galel could now clearly see the hatred in her eyes.

Betrayal is the dagger that cuts deepest…

Jowan slowed to a stop a few feet from her, and his smile drooped, "I'm sorry, I--"

"Let's get out of here," Amell snapped, turning her back on Jowan and hobbling down Aeonar's stone path.

Galel could sense Jowan's pain at the rejection, his friend's Adam's apple shook in his skin and he seemed on the verge of tears.

Lily and Galel exchanged concerned glances, and Jowan stared forlornly after Kena.

"Jowan?" Lily murmured, and he inhaled, quickly forcing a smile at her and blinking away the red in his eyes. He then faced Galel, and the two friends exchanged awkward looks.

"I'm glad you got out of there," said Jowan, but his voice betrayed his pain.

Galel patted him on the back. He felt for his friend, he knew how hard and how desperately he had wanted to save them. So he could only imagine Jowan's pain at the rejection from Amell. The woman he claimed was like a sister to him.

But Galel knew that intentions only mattered to gods. Not to the mortals who suffered.

"We should follow her, she's too weak to be on her own," said Lily, uncertainty in her voice.

Jowan signaled his agreement, and they all quietly followed Amell.

[trubluace]

UPDATE, MAIN CHARACTERS HAVE BEEN GIVEN HEADSHOTS + PROLOGUE IS IN THE WORKS

Left to right, up to down: Pumpkin'Wing, Finch'Tail, Dusk'Feather, Winter'Song

Stars shone dimly in the muted indigo sky, the deep hues breaching the orange below as the day parted for the night. A few flickering lights blinked in the shadowed city, an echo of the life that once occupied the large expanse below. Once, even in this deep hour, sound bounced from street to street, beings with an intellect beyond what was thought possible by the new inhabitants paced along streams of what once was during the day. Now, all that remains of that time is merely a husk of what once was, all repurposed to make way for a new generation.

Wanderer wondered what caused all of this to disappear, for the being that once inhabited the space to vanish with not a trace. He didn't know what could have once created these gorgeous sights just for it all to become mere ruins for the factions below to explore. From the ashes of the broad expanse beyond blossomed new life.

His ear flicked as he glanced over his shoulder. A skinny, short-furred brown cat made their way over to him on the edge of the high tower, unusually bright green eyes locked onto him.

"Quite the view out here, is it not?" They said, a good tail length worth of distance between them. He peered at his company with suspicion but said nothing of it.

"It sure is. What keeps you up tonight? Snoring too loud? Your nest was stolen by someone else?" He teased. Wanderer couldn't recognize the cat at a glance, but they were surely from within the Watcher's Pact. No random outsider could get in so simply without a generous amount of wounds.

"You sure are one to talk. Just felt like looking out from up here." They responded, which didn't give him much help. He would've scooted away from them if it wouldn't have been so obvious. Whoever this cat was, they were making him deeply uncomfortable for reasons he didn't quite understand why. "I remember my mother would take me up here to look out here from the barrier below us. She'd fear she'd lose me!" They laughed, the sound hearty but almost... artificial.

Still, he didn't want to kill the mood any bit, so he decided to simply play along. "Ah, my mum would always tug at me when I was younger, she'd always be hovering over me as if I'd be snatched up by a magic indoor owl the second I was out of sight! It took forever for my father to convince her to let me off so I can start learning to hunt. I miss those carefree days sometimes, but I do wish I could've been left to my own devices." He sighed. To the mysterious cat's credit, they did seem to chuckle at his reminiscing.

"Don't we all yearn for those times, do we not? Alas, the present is where we stay, always shifting and moving onto the next stage of what we call the present." They flashed him a small smile. "By the by, what would your name be? The pact is far too large for me to learn everyone's name."

Those eyes just stared at him, watching him expectantly. They didn't seem to be too threatening, just a bit unnerving. That's all.

"It'd be Wanderer, and-"

"Oh, what a gorgeous name!" They chirped unexpectedly, not letting him finish. "Say, do you know Bouquet? I feel like she's mentioned you."

Wanderer looked at them with unease. They're just unnerving, he reminded himself as he responded.

"I do, seeing as she's my mate. She's expecting currently, they're due to be born soon, possibly tomorrow." He confirmed, the stranger leaving his gaze as he turned to look at the forgotten ruins beyond. "We don't know what we're going to name them, but she offered Spray and Dice as ideas. I'm personally going to wait until I think of anything, but it'll be not too long before we have to think of something." Wanderer went onto a tangent as he continued talking about his partner, describing how they met and the trials the two of them went through.

"...but that's enough about me," he finished as he looked back to where his audience was, "what is with you?"

His audience wasn't there.

He had barely the time the register that before he felt a strong shove from the back, losing his balance and falling off the barrier. He caught onto a ledge beyond the edge, where it'd be impossible to climb back up. His eyes looked out in absolute despair as he realized perhaps there wasn't much hope for him.

"I'll- I'll get help!" Was the last thing he heard from above before his grip was lost, the shiny and overly polished stone slipping under him. He let out a loud yowl, and as he plummeted to the ground far- oh so far below, he saw a shape jut out from the top desperately reach out for him.

His heart sank as he registered it. He let in one final breath as his final thought coursed through.

Oh my dear partner, please be safe without me right beside you.

He just barely felt the impact, landing head-first.

He was not alone on that pavement, pale amber eyes watching his broken form.

----

Cardinal'Sight felt something ripple throughout the whole territory of Starclan, a bead of anxiety forming in him. Lately, so many cats had been dying, though none of them had common threads in their stories. So many paths and none of them lead to the answers they needed!

Every tip of Starclan was able to feel when someone died recently, far too apparent to be able to be brushed off as someone simply meeting their time. He didn't understand what was happening, neither did anyone else. He felt so damn useless right now, and he knew the others understood that feeling. He wished he knew what was happening, it just-

He hissed, tail lashing. He knew the faction he had domain over would grow worried with his rapidly increasing frustration manifesting physically for them, but what was he supposed to do? Everyone was affected by it! The factions, the pact, random loners who got by the walls. He was in a position of authority, and his charges needed his guidance the most now.

The was irony in there, he thought, looking up at the stars that seemed so close from here. He was the tip of navigation, and yet he couldn't find their way through.

Slight overview of a WC fan series that may devolve into info chaos; continue if you desire

Whistle in the Dark is a silly little story focused on four factions (clans but different names) of cats who are so god awful at communication that they barely know each other's existence outside of the other faction's leader and maybe healers. Your four flavors of protagonist go as follows:

Haunted Victorian child that everyone is concerned about, Winter'Song of the Clover Ring

Firecracker with a constantly lit fuse, Pumpkin'Wing of the Abyss Coven

Self proclaimed hottest man on the predominantly she-cat block, Finch'Tail of the Comet Fold

Signature lone wolf that only shows their true feelings around- oh they're not that close? Oh okay they're just the lone wolf-, Dusk'Feather of the Forest Band

No. No you don't have any more options; this is your menu.

Quick crash course of the factions: [Insert faction here (Insert Camp location here)]

Clover Ring (Mall)- Almost traditional clan but with under studies and a Hot Topic

Abyss Coven (Subway station)- Semi Monarchy, leader selects deputy but their child leads the clan if they die or step down. What happens if the leader dies and there's no heir? Panic.

Comet Fold (Spread out)- Prone to traveling and are the closest to a group called Watcher's Pact. Sectors of them lead their own group with a single cat being a representative during meetings.

Forest Band (City park)- Outside of the leader and deputy who deal with ceremonies and stuff there's no real influence from those ranks. They run with the belief that if left alone they can handle themselves as long as nothing atrocious occurs.

General changes-

Remember when it was essentially unheard of for regular warriors to receive messages from Starclan? Yeah that's coming back

Medicine cats can have kits and mates

Forbidden love isn't an issue since there is no rivalry and competition between the factions since they have enough space as is- also they just generally are oblivious to each other

Only leaders meet during gatherings at the center of the city and from time to time the healers come along

The Warrior Code is in there in spirit, most of them is just in their morals.

[specterepsilon]

mercy

/mərsē/

definition: to show forgiveness in someone who has done much harm

-

Seraph looked down at the now broken Prince of the Reef. Coming to his senses, he looks up at the Titan. All he instead sees is Aethelreda, the woman who rose to the top in her ranks as a General in the Royal Army. Aethelreda: the retainer for the Queen, his beloved sister.

Flames and Light flared on her Mark of the Traveler and her eyes. They danced about until she closed her eyes. Then, the color in her eyes returned to their orange hue. Her Mark stopped glowing. The fire has gone out in her.

"Oh, Aethelreda, giving up now?" Uldren spat out. He looked at her with a grin full of malice. Cayde's gun felt heavier now in her hands. Petra went and sided near Seraph, holding her Vestian Dynasty at Uldren.

"Where's my sister?" he asks frustrated.

"She's not here, Uldren. And if she was, this would be a whole lot easier," Petra states. Her gun is still pointed at the Prince.

He chuckled darkly. "Well, this is to be a reckoning. Aethelreda, remember when we had a similar scenario when you were training me? Just practicing with you...good times, right?"

Seraph's finger trembles on the trigger of the Ace of Spades. She bites her lips to hold back a cry. Before she touches the trigger, her Ghost Kore speaks up.

"W-Wait, not like this," Kore mutters to her Guardian. "Look at him, he's finished. Even with everything that Uldren has done, we can't just---"

Petra interrupts the Ghost before stepping forward and says what she wants to say with furrowed, angry eyes.

"You absolutely have no idea what he's done! If only Cayde were alive, he would know. Do you, Seraph?" Petra thunders, her voice echoing, before quietly and with calm anger asking her the Titan. Seraph looks back the Acting Regent-in-Command, seeing Sebastian, Rika, and Mikael starting to leave.

As if speaking for the Maiden, Uldren speaks up. "Yes; what would've the notorious Cayde-6 have done?"

He sits up slightly on the floor. "You have his gun, Aethelreda. Seems you get to have the last word." He props his elbow onto the ground and grunts as he continues.

"Everything I did, I did for her!" He lies back a bit before laughing briefly. "Funny. The line between light and dark is so very thin. What is even more funnier is that there is a Maiden of Light and a Knight of Darkness here; to have the balance of our world in the same room. Which one is the good one?"

Sebastian stops in his tracks and looks back at the trio. Uldren maliciously grinned at the human Titan he had surprised. In return, he walks over to them and draws out his Taken sword. The tip floated near the Prince's throat. Rika almost dashed forward if it weren’t for Mikael holding her back.

"You do not know anything. Don't believe that damned Ahamkara. Talk about us like that again or I will drain all life from you, " Sebastian quietly threatens. Dark energy started to pulsate from his arm. Void and Dark energy formed an aura around Sebastian.

This time Uldren laughs maniacally before his tone turned serious. "How hilarious! Would a question perhaps satisfy your thirst to kill me?"

The Maiden stood still before being asked by Uldren the questiom she dreaded to hesr from anybody. "Do you know which side you're on?"

Seraph puts down her gun for a brief moment. She had to contemplate. Was it worth breaking the promise to Mara about protecting the royal family? Somewhere deep inside her soul, Seraph felt as if Mara were alive. Somewhere far beyond the reaches of their universe and into the Ascendant Plane.

Seraph questioned herself. Is she really good? She asks herself if her morale system was set right. To kill without reason was a sin to her but to be questioned whether or not she did it for the greater good or for the bad always got to her.

Petra looked at her as Seraph dropped the gun. It dematerialized into thin air as Kore stored it away. "What are you doing Seraph? Do you have any idea what you are doing?!"

Seraph straightens up. Her balled fists let loose, falling to her sides. "Yes. I know what I'm doing. To be quiet honest I'm not sure what side I am on."

She kneels down to the Prince as if he were a child. In his eyes' reflection Seraph saw her former self. Aethelreda, a promising hero to the Reef and Their people.

"But what I know is that I serve to protect not only Mara and you but for everyone I care about and hold dear. I live by my own will. Not even the Traveler can control me." Seraph's hand dances with Light. She closes her eyes once more and her whites and orbs of them are replaced by pure Light.

"Petra, stand down," Seraph commanded without looking at anyone. Immediately Petra did in compliance. Seraph stood up and touched Sebastian's arm. The aura disappears from it and he stands back, knowing what she is about to do.

Seraph kneels once more at the Prince who stares at her with confused eyes. She pressed her index and middle finger to his forehead. Light begins to enter his system The dark, corrupted energy that surged through his body disappears. This knocks the Prince out into a deep sleep.

Petra looks at her in amazement. "How...?"

Seraph shook her head, wiping away tears that were cleaned off so quickly. The Light in her eyes and Mark disappear once more. She stands up and begins walking out with Sebastian following behind her. She orders Rika and Mikael to help Petra take the comatose Uldren out.

Petra holsters her side arm and calls out to Seraph in her original name. "Aethelreda, why did you not do it? Why did you not kill him?"

Seraph stops at the exit to answer the expectant Petra, her voice getting louder at each reason. "It's because I made a promise to Mara. It's because Uldren was not Uldren; more like a puppet to Riven. It's because maybe there is someone, somewhere out there that cares and loves this fool!" Her eyes turn somber as she turns around. Petra, Rika, and Mikael saw tears fall from the Titan's face. The Sunbreaker's voice becomes husk and throaty.

"It's because I've learned how to forgive."

-

Fin.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 6/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Some other happenings while Lucifer was in Heaven.

Reminder: Read story 1 first before starting this series! It adds some context and of course, I think it's a pretty neat prequel

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

The demons in the hotel have dispersed just after their King left for Heaven. Most kept themselves busy despite being worried because, really, what can they do except wait?

Charlie said goodbye to the Sins whom were going back to their respective rings. As much as she wants to have them at the hotel with her until her dad comes back, she understands that they can't leave the other rings unattended for too long.

Beelzebub: I really wish I could stay, baby girl. But I'm just call away, okay?

Satan: All of us are, Charlie. If you want, I can have Damien visit and wait with you?

Charlie: That's okay, uncle. I wouldn't want to bother him for something like sitting around and waiting.

Satan: If you're sure, your majesty.

Charlie: I- I'm not- I'm just acting Queen.

Asmodeus: Charlie, you are no less of a Queen as your mother was just because it's not permanent yet. As long as Lucifer is not here, you are our Queen.

Mammon: Heck yeah! By the way, do you want queen shit merch? I bet we would make a ton of money with your face in every tshirt or coffee mug!

Charlie: Haha. No thank you...

Mammon: Your loss! If ya ever change your mind though-

An elbow to his gut cuts Mammon off his never-ending, and in Charlie's honest opinion, poor sales pitch.

Mammon: Fuckin bitch! No woman is as brute as you-

Another hit sends Mammon writhing on the ground that made Charlie channel all her self-control not to laugh in his face.

Belphegor: Do shut up, Mammon. You are embarrassing yourself. If you have any questions regarding your duties, you can ask any of us. Except Mammon.

The Princess (acting Queen!) of Hell is so touched by the support of her aunts and uncles that she almost teared up. If not for Vaggie's eyes that never left her, she would've ugly cried already. She tries not to let her Uncle Mammon's pained shouts of 'f-f-uck you, Bel!' ruin the moment for her.

Leviathan: Call us when your father comes back.

Charlie: Of course! Thank you all again for being here.

Leviathan bends down to give Charlie a bow.

Leviathan: Of course, our Queen.

Giving one last goodbye hugs to each of them, Charlie doesn't notice Alastor with his ears pulled back. Husk does though.

Husk: Boss?

Alastor: Yes, dear Husker?

Husk: Ya alright?

When Alastor doesn't answer, he follows the deer demon's stare in the direction of Charlie and the Sins. Husk knows that meddling with anything Alastor will just get him scolded like all the other times he tried to express concern.

He'll never admit it but he did come to care for the psycho even just a little bit. Is it Stockholm Syndrome? He's not sure.

Regardless, if something was bothering Alastor then he and Nifty would get dragged into it eventually. So tries to reach out, even if his boss don't like it. Egotistical prick.

..

Husk felt a chill ran down his spine when he catches the Sin of Envy looking directly at their direction. More specifically, at Alastor.

'What the hell?'

He hears Alastor click his tongue then disappear to fuck knows where. And when he turned back to where the Sins were, it looks like they had left.

And so did the Sin of Envy.

Angel: Huskie! I need that drink ya always make me!

Husk only hopes that whatever that was doesn't bite any of them in the ass.

Husk: Yeah yeah, I got it.

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

Alastor went straight into his room but someone was already there, sitting in his little dining set up by the bayou.

The static he lets out would've scared any other demon but this one just looked at him in exasperation like he isn't the one trespassing in someone's private bedroom- in his territory!

Alastor: Ľ̷̹͚͚͔͓̥̭͂̃̓̉ë̸̻̳́a̶̱̦̻̱̼̔̚v̶̥̗̜̎̽̈́̂̋͆̊̔e̷̤̝̰̖̞̳̗͒̌͊͜͝!̶͍̯̠̃̔͆̈́

He summons black tentacles to attack the intruder but they stop just a hairs breath away. Alastor wills them, commands them, to strike but they don't move.

Leviathan: Using my own gift to attack me? Come on, Alastor, you know better than that.

Alastor bites his lips so hard, he bleeds.

Alastor: Y̷̥͐͑͝ó̸̗̇̾ṷ̴̧̟̺̀̅̕ ̴̧̡͕̈͜ṁ̷̱̰̞̰a̴̟̟͔͋̊͌ͅy̶̠͝ ̷̘̤̬̼͛̿̊̉ǒ̵̩̉̅w̴̩̍͑̕n̴̨̪͇̿̕ͅ ̸̧̤͈̀͋͠m̵̨͑ͅy̴̦̻͔̐͒͐̉ ̵͍̱̩̐s̷̯͂̄͂ò̴̖̺̩u̵͍̣̱̯̾̂͛l̶̻̭͖̾̾̊ ̸͖̱̍͝b̷͚̳͗̔̄͝u̸͖͊̒t̶̩͑̈́̊ ̸͖͋t̴̙̔͂h̷̬̻̫̮̓͗a̵̘̋͂̏͘ẗ̴͉̍̇͜ͅ ̸͍͒͑d̸͚̥̬̣̋̉̊o̸̭̖̯̳͌e̶̻̗͍͉̓̔͑s̴̨̥̙̈́͂ ̷̧̓n̴̢̘͓͉͂̆o̵̰͕͚͌ͅt̵͍̘̄́ ̵̧̪͔̋̓͂͐g̷̹̻̹͊̀í̵̧̨̝v̵̛̛͓̞̮̿̊ͅé̸͇͇̑͒ ̴̭̱̝̞̿ẏ̴̠͚̐̐o̵̧̓͑ų̴̻̾͆ ̶̻͍̲̃t̸͕̗͖͛̌͠h̷̩͈̗̀ẻ̷͇̈́͘͘ ̵̮̝͍͆͑̚ŗ̷͇̻̖̓̂i̵̱̦̻̩͋͛g̷̻͛̃͂͘h̶̛̼̤͙̘̒̏̕t̶͓͔̮̔̊͛͛ ̶͙̑t̵̼̣͚̐̒̅ͅǒ̴̾͘͠ͅ ̴̞̏̓̊͝d̸̡̈́͜ó̸̢͎͓̉ ̴̗̥̮̳̈́̆ằ̵̲̖̜͑̇ṩ̸̡̇͠ ̴̦̮͔͊̑̋͑y̶̤̳̹̔o̶̺̍͋u̸͎̎̅͒͘ ̶͓̫͖̪̎̓͐͝p̵̥͑̓̌͑͜l̵͓͔̻̇̑e̴̺̐͋̂̃a̴̫͇̭̥̔̔š̶̞̝ḛ̸̃̊͂͘.̷̥̰̮̆͑́͝

Leviathan merely rolls his eyes and barely even flinches from the ear-piercing sounds the radio demon is emmitting.

Leviathan: Relax. I'm not here to make you do anything. But I won't stand this disrepect.

Alastor: H̸̭͈͕̾̌ơ̸̮̖̫͉̐͒̏ẇ̷̛̱̙͌̕ͅ ̶̖͕̲͖̏͌̓d̵̛͉̭̈́́̊a̵̬͇͎̽̅̐r̷̪̣͗̐͑e̶͚̯̠͇̋̎̑͝ ̷͍̫͎̒y̵̹͆̀̅̐ô̷̡̭̣̥̎̍ú̷͔̂́ ̵̡̺̯̓t̷̞̾ą̷̮̻̔̈l̴͇̲̅͌̎͛ḱ̵̡̭̜ ̷͉͂͝ơ̶̞͓͕͗͋͜f̸̮̮̻̰̂͝ ̸̡̭̏͐͆͠d̷͇̟͙̖̈̊ī̷͚̩s̸͚̰̙̝̍̔̀r̵̰̐̉e̵̲̳̜̿͐s̷̯̳̦͈̏͐̚͘p̵̜̆e̴̡͖͕̅̈́c̷̼͓͒t̴͇́̈́ ̴̮̳̗͗͛w̷̨̟͙̳̍͒h̷̡̡̗̼̏͋̄e̷̗̓̈̽n̵͔̥͛ͅ ̶̤̉̋̆y̸̪̤̬͙̿͐͝ǫ̶͓̊͝u̷͚̭̳͎̔̓͑-̶̛̗̀̌̕

The aquatic demon snaps his fingers and suddenly, Alastor feels his power leave him. He has not felt tis weak since he was human.

Leviathan: I think I'm a pretty lenient master, Alastor. I gifted you a fraction of my power and let you kill your way up. I don't even meddle in your affairs and yet you still disrespect me? I asked of you one thing since the day you came crawling to me for power: protect the Morningstars. And frankly, right now you're not doing a good enough job.

Alastor: I do not know what you expected from a mere sinner. Plus, I don't seem to recall you doing much better on that front, your Sinfulness.

Leviathan had to let out a laugh. He could admit, the demon says some pretty hilarious things sometimes. It's even cuter when he know Alastor means it.

Leviathan: Ha! You really are a cocky demon. Talking to a Sin like that? Did your darling mother not teach you anything about respecting those who are clearly above you?

Alastor: Only those who deserve it. Like Lucifer.

Alastor still can't get any semblance of strength to pull himself off the ground. He really hates having these rare meet-ups with his master.

The embodiment of Envy stands and the next second, Alastor is being pulled up by his hair, making him look directly at the Sin. He had been averting his eyes for as soon as he felt a shift in the air but the sudden contact forces him come face-to-face with the real eldritch horror.

Leviathan: Let's get one thing straight, deer. I don't care about you, but somehow you made Lucifer do. And I would do anything for Lucifer and his happiness.

The radio demon can feel the tentacles caressing his face and he wants to recoil in disgust.

Leviathan: So, the moment I find out you're just using him for your personal gain, I won't hesitate to eat you over and over and over again. You'll never know a day without pain.

Despite the threat, he can't help the words that comes out of his mouth.

Alastor: But I am.

And if he dies today, he hopes Lucifer won't be too sad.

Leviathan: What did you just say?

Rosie always did say he had a mouth that can rival Susan. Honestly, Alastor has never felt so offended.

Alastor: Did you not hear me, master? I am using him for my personal gain. But not in the way one might think. I'm using him for my happiness and... I hope one day he will come to use me for his.

His answer must have been enough because he's suddenly let go and he can feel his powers flowing back into inside him.

'Right where they belong.'

He brushes himself off like nothing happened. Looking around, it appears that nothing was damaged after the Sin's power-play.

Leviathan: I expect you to report back to me regarding any happenings with the Morningstars and the hotel.

Opening a portal to a purple sky and raging waters, Leviathan gives Alastor one last warning.

Leviathan: Don't disappoint me.

Tsk. He really hates politics.

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

Sorry for the little Alastor dialogue! But!!! Leviathan??

Color me surprised.

I am not calling him Frederick even tho I know officially, he's called Frederick von eldritch.

You telling me that youre one of the most powerful demons in Hell and you name yourself Frederick??