#feign flora

[shrimpricebowl]

drew some of my ocs... swear ill draw them somewhere else other than a white void soon LMAO

[digitalbvnny]

where a monster would take you on a date ִֶָ

જ⁀➴ some small headcanons about where each monster would take you and how the date would go. animal hybrid not included.

── . werewolf boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ werewolf!bf wants to show you his sensitive side on a date, so he want to take you to do something sweet. werewolf!bf is so nervous when the two of you pull up to the bookstore. it was all his idea to pick out books for each other and end the night cooking a meal together. his collar tightened around his furry nape when you walked in together. deeply afraid he'd pick out a book that you wouldn't enjoy or would have to force yourself through for his sake.

꩜ you'd kiss him on the cheek and wish him luck, unbeknownst to him you're equally nervous. the two of you had a short talk on the way here about genres, and neigher of you had much to go off of.

꩜ when you both get back in the car you'd laugh about how nervous you both were when the other one presents their choice of book. both things you equally excited about reading.

꩜ and then you arrive to your shared apartment, you share some wine before making some easy chicken pasta you both really enjoy.

── . vampire boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ your vampire!bf would want to rake you somewhere nice, while also allowing it to be a brand new experience for you. he wants the night to be rememberable, so he takes you to the most beautiful restaurant. ordering a wine you'd never even heard of, and looking adoringly at you.

꩜ vamp!bf is renting out the entire restaurant, he doesn't want anything to mess up or interrupt your perfect night.

꩜ he'd wait until the moon in the perfect place and take you out the terrace to hold your hand, “you looks so delectable under the moonlight mi amore.”

꩜ vampire!bf ends the night with flying, having you on his back as you soar through the skies. wanting you to see how beautiful the nightlife can be from up in the clouds.

── . ghost boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ ghost!bf can't take you out as he's confined to the house he died in, but that doesn't mean he won't put in one hundred percent for your dates. he's swooshing around the house in silence, as you're sleeping, trying to get the perfect day together.

꩜ your day starts with a beautiful breakfast in bed, with the ingredients you all just had laying around. he floats in with ease, a smile on his translucent face which brings one to your face.

꩜ the next part is movies and doing a puzzle or different table top game together. something small but you can do it together in the comfort of your home.

꩜ the night would end in tidying up together and dancing in the kitchen. just enjoying your time together.

── . orc boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ orc!bf loves to be able to show off, he wants to do something that's gonna fun but lets him protect you. orc!bf is going to take you to a haunted house, it's so dark and you can't see anything but he can see everything.

꩜ everytime you get spooked and grasp only his huge muscular arms, he's grinning but feigning innocence and comforting you, “it’s okay, I'll protect you.”

꩜ when orc!bf accidentally gets spooked and punches one of the cast members and you almost pee your pants from laughing. the big scary orc got scared.

꩜ all would led to him backing you against a wall, until he's towering over you. you can feel the body heat coming off of him in waves, “you scared yet?”

── . fae prince boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ fae prince!bf want your forst date to benone exploring the fae world. he'd give you a special piece of jewelry that would keep you from being stuck in this realm. as much as he wants you to eventually rule neside him, he wants you to do that of your violation. so he takes you to see the flora and fauna of his birth place and kingdom.

꩜ fae prince!bf wants to show you all of the delicacies of his kingdom, having the royal chef make you a little bit of everything. all of which he sets you in his lap and feeds you every bite, eager to see your reactions.

꩜ fae prince!bf who has the family tailor make you a beauiful dress made of garments and fabrics you'd never even heard of. the dress if a beauiful gown for your dinner at the end of the night, it fit like a second skin and made you feel oh so beautiful.

꩜ fae prince!bf shows you all of the castle, kingdom, the courtyard and everything, he wants to end the night with a private dinner in the royal garden. sitting across from you under their two moons, his faerie skin sparkling in his true form.

── . tentacle monster boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ while tentacle monster!bf would love to take you back to his realm and show you all the delights, he knows he can't. knows you'd be easily taken as a servant there, a common practice in his homeland. he settles for a comfort food picnic by the water where you both may swim.

꩜ tenatcle monster!bf refused go let you help or know much of anything about the date wanting it to be a surprise for you! he'd help pack some clothes for you to make sure you'll be comfortable.

꩜ his face lights up when you do your little happy dance about the food he packed. he prides himself on knowing you oh so well.

꩜ swimming with you is tentacle monster!bf’s favorite part, getting to be immersed in the natural body of water. not to mention, getting to play with you in the water, wrapping you in his tendrils and creating waves in the nornally waveless lake.

── . shadow monster boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ shadow monster!bf is a little on the basic side, or at least that's what he would say. he loves an old fashion movie and dinner. the movie theatre is the best place for him, as he can sit comfortably in the dark shadows of the viewing room.

꩜ he'd think over the kind of movie for a few days before asking if you'd be up for it. he doesn't really care if it's perfect as things like that don't happen for him very often. he just wants you to be happy. he'd eventually land on horror, remembering he read somewhere it makes the girl cuddle more and that makes it romantic or whatever.

꩜ shadow monster!bf is not like orc!bf or demon!bf he's not very egotistical or even confident. days leading up to the date he's researching anything and everything he can, he's always been ignored having always been in the shadows. so he's not very experienced with dating and you're so pretty.

꩜ picking the restaurant was the hardest part for him, most places are pretty well lit and not being able to slunk into the shadows makes shadow monster!bf very anxious. he eventually ends in a hibachi grill, daek enough to be comfortable but light enough you'll still be anle to look on him. when you arrive you can tell how nervous the poor virgin monster was.

── . demon boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ demon!bf would want something fun yet a little competitive; he decides the best thing would have to be an arcade with a built-in diner. something fun, casual that would end in fun banter. he finds one that has that retro kind of vibe, something that would have a layer of nostalgia.

꩜ as soon as he propses the idea, he'd give a little bite of, “unless you're scared to lose?” he'd raise his eyebrows in mischief and you knew it would be a very fun night.

꩜ demon!bf would immediately bring you over to the skee ball, something easily fun and competitive exactly his mission. you're both smiling and laughing as you smirk and say “i'll gonna wipe the floor with ya, then we'll see who's a loser.” “you got it, sunshine, if i win I'll get a kiss.” demon!bf is cheeky, his tail lightly smacking you on the ass.

꩜ you wouldn't be able to remember a better and more excitable date, you have to have him, inviting him in when he drops you off for the night.

── . angel boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ angel!bf wants to take you on a first date that will be filled with entertainment and enrichment. angel!bf rattles his brain, working over several ideas to make sure it's just perfect. he worries himself to hell and back, with wanting you to be happy. after this he decides on a pottery class with wine tastings. he thought it was romantic yet composed.

꩜ he's so excited when he tells you about the plan, wanting to make sure you don't wear your best clothes in case of mess from the clay or a spill from the wine. angel!bf wishes no harm towards your belongings.

꩜ you're happy to attend this date with him, and the instructor even comments on how in love the two of you look.

꩜ the night would end with angel!bf politely asking, “may i kiss you, i had such a nice time and i know it's a common human practice.”

── . satyr boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ satyr!bf loves to go on outdoorsy dates, but this one he wanted to make sure involved alot of time where you can just chat. satyr!bf loves talking, even more than that, he loves listening to you talk. so because of that, he chooses a carriage ride finished by strawberry patch picking.

꩜ traveling and foraging is something satyr!bf is super familiar with. he's told of multiple travels that he's done and loves sharing it with you.

꩜ satyr!bf shares fun facts about the flora, and fauna of the area, and listening to you excitedly tell how you've always wanted to ride in a carriage like a real princess, “i may not be royalty, but you'll always be my princess.” finishing the sentiment with a kuss on your knuckles.

꩜ when you arrive to the patch filled with strawberry bushels, that's when satyr!bf would present you with a specially made basket with your name engraved on it, as he explains he's going to take you on a series of dates of foraging, picnicing and antique shopping.

── . succubus girlfriend ✦

╰┈➤ succubus!gf loves the ciry nightlife, loves going out at night. the city gives a palpable sexual energy that she cannlightly feed on all night long, so she doesn't kill you at the end of the night. succubus!gf takes you her favorite club, it's not a dancing club something much more smoother, more luxurious.

꩜ succubus!gf won't keep her hands off of you when she brkngs you around, knowing all the men who reaide her will undress you with their eyes. she has to make sure they know you belong to someone.

꩜ if a particular club customer can't keep their eyes and especially their hands to themselves, she'll kiss you breathlessly. to prove a point and because she loves the dumbstruck look you get after everytime your lips touch.

꩜ by the end of the night, succubus!gf had you draped in her lap, head tucked into her neck tipsy from the energy stealing and the alcohol she was feeding to you. you're just so easy that way.

── . incubus boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ incubus!bf would love to go dancing with you or take you for dancing classes you can partake in together. something intimate yet not too sensual. he doesn't want younto bite off more than you can chew, because once he starts going it's hard for him to stop (albeit not impossible, but much harder for incubi than most monsters.)

꩜ he’d sign you up for a waltz, something vesy close with alot of eye contact while also being a good talent to have.

꩜ (ignore if you didn't love princesses as a child:) little did incubus!bf know you loved princesses and knew that's what they all did. you excitedly squealed at the idea of getting to dance like they could.

꩜ it was romantic and a fun thing to do, incubus!bf didn't take into consideration that you might be a little clumsy ans stepping on his toes a few too many times. you tried to laugh it off, and he did too, bringing you both closer.

── . siren girlfriend ✦

╰┈➤ siren!gf loves going on dates that involved water, this time would be no different. siren!gf has been meticulously planning a getaway weekend. she'd be dumb not to notice all the stress you've been under, and ushers you to agree to a weekend of no work or family, just the two of you together.

꩜ there's several things she plans with the weekend, one being the location, a small offshore island that you wouldn't possijly run into anyone either of you know. another thing would be the activities swimming in the ocean with sharks, collecting seashells and getting massages.

꩜ knowing your siren!gf is apart of the ocean makes the shark swimming all the easier to handle. siren!gf smiles warmly at you, while she converses with the shark that her beautiful baby is off limits.

꩜ siren!gf finishes off the weekend with easing all your stress in the most physical way, lapping hungrily at your sweet spot.

── . dragon boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ dragon!bf want to take you on a flight, showing off his scales and unbelievably long wingspan. swift flying around moutains, so you could see the fresh snow and back down into a beautiful flower filled valley. urging you to see his secret cave overflowing with beautiful gems.

꩜ dragon!bf who looks on you lovingly as you collect flowers and make matching flower crowns for the two of you.

꩜ dragon!bf who is falling for you so quickly and with such intensity he allows you to pick one gem to take home with you. even urges you to take the pretty rose quartz he has surrounded by red flora.

꩜ dragon!bf who loves to nuzzle up with you and winds down the night by wrapping himself around you. enveloping you in his smoky scent.

[delopsia]

Ingredients: Rhett Abbott and his mildly insulted horse

"She's getting rounder."

"'cause Perry keeps lettin' her out in the pasture when I tell 'em not to," Rhett chuckles, patting the side of Isabella's belly as he works the comb over her coat. A plume of dust kicks up, taking to the air, gradually unveiling the midnight coat that lurks beneath.

"Are you calling her fat?" Teasing, you cock your head to the side.

Rhett's eyes roll. "I'm not callin' her skinny."

Isabella looks at you. Her ears flick, as if she can't believe what she's hearing. If she could speak, you're certain that she would have some choice words about this. For now, all she can do is step forward, intent on making you scratch her neck again.

But cracking down on grazing and re-evaluating her meal plans does absolutely nothing. Isabella just keeps growing rounder and rounder, regardless of diet and exercise. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she's about to swell like a balloon and float off into the sky.

Looking at her from the front...does her no favors. Her belly pokes out from either side, so perfectly circular that there's no way this isn't just a little weight gain.

Isabella doesn't seem to give two damns, munching away at her grass, like this is just another Tuesday for her. Nothing to see here, everything is as it should be.

"Still think she's just fat?" You hum.

Rhett sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...nope."

The vet confirms your suspicions within the week, prescribing Isabella a few nice, cushy months of doing nothing but lounging in the pasture. When or how it happened is anyone's guess, but none of that changes the loose, estimated due date of late May. Maybe baby's appearance will reveal the identity of its father.

But May comes and goes, and the only new face on the ranch is the lease horse Rhett picked up, to fill in for the time being. The usual, purple flora emerges from the ground, rising in tune with summer temperatures, and with it, Isabella, miraculously, gets wider.

"I still wanna know what deadbeat did this to her," Rhett shakes his head, "poor girl looks absolutely over it."

From up the hill, Isabella slowly hauls herself up from her place in the grass. Finally tired of lounging, you suppose. Against the never-ending backdrop of flowers, it looks as if she's living within a painting, golden rays of sunlight cascading past and casting her shadow.

You draw your phone out; another picture for the Isabella folder.

A small, black head emerges from the flowers.

Like a spring, the little thing leaps to its feet, collapsing into a messy heap just as quickly. Isabella nudges it with her nose, and it leaps once more, intent on getting up, in spite of its own clumsiness.

"Rhett," whispering, like the sound of your own voice may cause it to fall again. "Rhett, look."

The baby falls before Rhett's even seen it, vanishing into the sea of overgrown flowers.

Rhett tilts his head to the side, squinting against the sun. "I don't see nothin',"

"It was right there!" You know what you saw!

He whistles. Isabella looks your way, her nicker just loud enough for you to hear.

That little head pops up once more.

You're up the hill before the foal figures out what to do with those mile-long legs, precariously stretched out as far as they'll go, wavering back and forth like a leaf. All that mighty strength dissipates under one of Isabella's gentle licks, dramatically stumbling sideways as if she's been shoved.

"What the hell, Bella?" The grin on Rhett's face warps his speech, unable to feign irritation, even in the slightest. "Y' were s'pposed to give us a hint 'bout who dad is, not replicate yourself."

Isabella's soft rumble sounds like laughter, already stepping forward for a few scratches. Newborn be damned, there's attention to be had, and when Rhett doesn't give her enough, she comes walking over to you, victim number two.

Her new baby stumbles right along with her, albeit not very quickly. Rhett crouches, holding out a steady hand for the little thing to sniff. Whatever she smells is intriguing enough for her to stumble closer, already curious about this big new world she's found herself in.

All at once, she rams headfirst into Rhett's chest. A perfect tackle, taking them both down.

Isabella glances at the collision, then returns to your hand. Neck scratches are much more important, it seems.

"I think she might be part bull." Giggling, you take a step back, away from the unfolding chaos of limbs. The foal thrashes, trying to get herself upright again. But her hind end isn't in coordination with the front, taking her right back down into Rhett's lap.

"Hits like a fuckin' steam roller," Rhett wheezes. Down the hill, his hat continues its tumble.

The foal turns to look at him, tiny ears wiggling back and forth, not sure what to do with them quite yet. Their noses bump.

And she sneezes.

[earlgreylatte]

ℭ𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔨 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔇𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔢𝔯

(Yandere GL x Blue Lantern Reader) You two needed each other, that was an indisputable fact. And even if they went too far, you would be there to hold them back, running your fingers through their hair while gently soothing them. After all, it’s the least you can do as their Blue Lantern.

Hal Jordan:

Surprisingly romantic about the whole thing. While he was never a big believer of fate, there was something about the fact that you two humans were picked out by such complimentary rings to answer a higher calling. There was something that tied you two together.

Insists on sticking together, it’s just rational considering how your ring only runs on full power when in the presence of his, and that only means you do more good. He’s able to use his feats to convince the Guardians and Saint Walker to okay a more long term partnership between the two of you.

And you don’t protest. Your efficiency and chance of survival more than doubles with a Green Lantern with you, and Hal always makes sure you have the time to fulfill both your duties. And it’s nice being around him. It’s reassuring having someone always at your side. He makes you laugh, he always want to try new food with you while introducing you to some of his favourites, he loves to take you to fly after sneaking you into the airfield, he adores you.

And you find yourself returning his feelings. He convinces you to move in quickly after that, citing it makes more sense to split rent if you two are going to constantly be off world. Things are good with Hal. Sure he can get jealous, but as a Blue Lantern you do a good job at calming him down and tempering his anger. Even if he’s the stubborn type to never take ‘no’ as an answer, you at least have the ability to soften him to see reason.

When the rest of the Blue Lantern corps are slaughtered, he becomes increasingly overprotective. He urges you to keep your ring, that you two will be able to handle any enemy as long as you stick together. You only need to boost his ring and he’ll take care of the rest while you sit there and look pretty.

Refuses to leave your side, your ring only works defensively without him, it would be a death sentence if you two were to part. Wherever you go, he follows. And if you’re worried about your ring diminishing too much of the emotional spectrum, then he’ll just take care of some other ring wielders to even it out.

So you two continue as lanterns, his anger bubbling until you wash it away with kisses that trail down until he’s groaning and sighing, as is clockwork. You admittedly have a symbiotic relationship, but you’ve always been a pragmatist. You two belong together, just like your rings do.

“So good for me,” Hal breathes out looking down at you, before throwing his head back with a breathy moan when you hum against him, licking up his length. “You take such good care of me…because that’s, ah, what we do for each other. And I’d, fuck, I’d kill anyone that even looks at you.”

Kyle Rayner

Even if he spent a short time as a Blue Lantern, sometimes he struggles with mustering up the faith to enact his will. It’s why he liked being around you. You, more than him, embodied hope, in every word and action. He honestly puts you on a pedestal. You’re just so…good. You could do no wrong in his eyes. And he feels even more protective if you’re the only current Blue Lantern around after the corps was massacred.

He lets you choose where you two go outside of missions. He could care less about ever setting foot on Earth again if you’re not there. Visiting planets overgrown by nature, covered with flora so unlike the ones you’re familiar with, or planets so developed and metropolitan they put Metropolis to shame, he wants to see everything there is, as long as you’re by his side.

And if you ever choose to take off on your own, don’t be surprised to run into him, feigning surprise and suggesting you two stick together if you’re going to be in the same place anyway. Kyle may come off as agreeable to your whims, but he is more than willing to push at your boundaries if you intend to leave his sight or endanger yourself.

And can you blame him? He’s already lost so much and he’s so alone, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something happened to you, especially with all the enemies with a vendetta against him for being a Green Lantern. Ones that would kill you to just to get to him. Ones you couldn’t hope to win against without him at your side.

He’s always starting at you, sometimes with a dopey, love sick grin, other times he’s just silently observing you, noting every detail, whether it’s a beauty mark or a scratch, he’ll always notice. Eventually, you’re all he’s drawing, until he’s losing sleep because he wants to make sure even a quick sketch really captures you.

While he isn’t the violent type, preferring to whisk you away from smaller annoyances and conflicts, he is more than willing to fight for your sake against any threat, becoming increasingly erratic at the thought of you being harmed. Might even dissociate, only snapping back to reality when you’re pulling him away from a mess of red.

Might create constructs of you in the rare event you two are apart, most likely because of Oa business or if he’s watching you far afar, tracing his fingers over the green countenance that mimics yours. Hopefully, you don’t leave him too pent up because things might get laughably pathetic for him otherwise.

“You feel so…good,” Kyle nearly whimpers the first time he enters you, entranced in the way you clench around him as you stare up at him dazed, only thinking about him as he fills you so well. “So beautiful, so pretty, fuck, you’re so, so perfect.”

Jessica Cruz:

She spent years as a shut in after her friends were murdered in front of her, do not underestimate how much that still affects her even with the ring. Is hit with bouts of paranoia and overthinking if you mention going off on your own, even if you’re together she doubts her ability to keep you safe.

But at the same time, with you at her side, she feels more assured than ever. Doubts and anxiety seem to leave her when you’re near, your mere presence enough to reassure and motivate her to keep going. She only hopes she can do the same for you, even if it’s just because her ring is able to aid yours.

Very clingy, always holding hands with you or pressing her shoulders and hips against yours. Befriends your friends very quickly, not that you mind considering how isolated she once was. If you ever insist on some alone time or going out without her, she guilts you pretty easily. And against her survivors guilt and trauma, it will be hard to say no to her in general.

Mostly convinces you to stay home with her or go camping when you’re not working or in space. She prefers the quiet and having you to herself. She teaches you a lot about the wilderness and basic survival techniques. Definitely loves quality time.

Might become the most noticeably codependent, and if other concerned Lanterns or heroes brought it up to her, encouraging her to branch out more, she would become defensive. After all, the purpose of your ring is to assist hers. And she needs you, more than Hal, John, or anyone else from the corps. Hasn’t she been alone enough already?

Becomes terrified if you’re the last Blue Lantern around, and might even encourage you to give up the ring if it puts a target on your back. Might regress to her shut in tendencies if you don’t put your foot down.

Refuses to let you out of her sight if you’re able to convince her that you’ll be fine, becoming your personal guard dog, even when you’re using the washroom.

Sometimes you feel like Jessica wants to drown you, pressing all her weight against yours, until the only thing that that you can see and smell is her, her mouth hot against your skin as she follows a path from your chest to your tummy, “I always worry about you, whether you’re okay or some psycho got their hands on you, I know people think I’m too much, but I’d be nothing without you.” She admits, tone somber as if her fingers weren’t tracing over your sex.

Yes, Blue Lanterns just scream enabler to me LMAO wdym you’re so broken with a green lantern but virtually useless without one, like yeah I’d be clinging to Hal, I don’t want to die😭

The title font is killing me, like the only thing I see is ‘⛓️⛓️🥀🥀’, I should not be trusted with font generators lol! And yes, I’m a Cloak and Dagger main in Marvel Rivals

Masterlist

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

A/N – I couldn’t stop thinking about this short King after episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel came out. This is mostly a fic for me, to get me back into writing. (WILL DO A MALE AND NONBINARY ONE SOON!)

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.

In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.

Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-

Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.

“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). She’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”

“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.

As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.

First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.

Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?

“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.

“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”

“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”

“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.

“Yep, she’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? She helps with everything here, and she doesn’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”

“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Honestly? Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.

Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’

“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.

It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.

“That’s my girl.”

For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?

She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.

Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.

“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”

“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.

“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”

“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.

“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your maid!”

She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.

“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”

Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.

“Alright,” He agreed.

Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.

“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.

“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.

[daosies]

how they love you

xavier, rafayel ♡ gn!reader

warnings: major xavier and rafayel story spoilers, reader is the protagonist from the game (but gender neutral), rafayel is his own warning (hes a bit of a freak)

notes: im writing this like i understand xavier and rafayels lore (i dont. all i did was read up on reddit and the wiki before going straight off the dome.)

"xavier," jeremiah calls incredulously, "you're staring."

"no, i'm not," xavier lies straight through his teeth. his periwinkle eyes trail after you like they're bound to you, held together by a red string that knots at his irises.

(maybe they are.)

xavier blinks, resting for but a moment before his gaze returns. it'll always return—xavier thinks he does a lot of that. return.

"at least try to pretend," jeremiah remarks, tender expression betraying his incredulous tone. despite the fact that xavier is loitering in philo, posing a hazard to the nearby flora with his intense aura, jeremiah can't bring himself to say anything more.

xavier is in love—but that's not right, jeremiah thinks. xavier has always been in love. he loved you back in philos, in all your incarnations and the ones thereafter. xavier loved you when you sparred against him, when you rose to the throne, and even when you suffered and while everyone was against you, he loved you then, too.

jeremiah supposes that it's only right that xavier loves you now. because xavier loves with his whole being, it's not just his eyes that follow after you, but rather, his existence.

xavier follows you despite the era, traveling centuries back and staying just to catch a glimpse of you, to glimmer, ever so slightly, in your incomparable radiance.

we could go back, jeremiah thinks, conjuring up the possibility despite his nerves telling him not to. we could go back to philos. the core within your heart holds infinite possibilities.

if xavier wanted to, he could obtain your aether core, and that would be enough to return to the future—where you still exist, sure, but more importantly (to jeremiah, at least), where philos exists.

("we will not kill them," xavier muttered darkly, "do not bring this topic up again. i will find another solution.")

(and that was where jeremiah went wrong. because to xavier, philos is nothing. you have always been the whole, vast universe. you are the most important thing in this life, and the many more thereafter; and to xavier, no future matters except the one you exist in now.)

so, he did. he tried, at least. xavier scoured the ruined earth for protocores that could mimic the same capabilities of yours. he lived through centuries on earth, fighting for existence despite knowing that the answer lied, as it always has been, in you.

when your incarnation appeared, jeremiah never once doubted xavier's judgement. while the other backtrackers under xavier's command went mad, trying to harvest your aether core to return to philos, xavier fought—but more than that, actually. xavier loved.

xavier loved, no, loves, so fervently, so profoundly, that he killed the backtrackers who had tried to harm you. you are not the same incarnation that he loved back in philos, but the fact that it's you is enough for xavier to rid all doubts.

and jeremiah thinks that, despite xavier's desperate intent to return back to philos, he wouldn't mind living here on earth with you now. jeremiah has noticed that the fervent expression his captain once wore has dwindled into something more mellow, into something tender.

something like the looks he'd send to you from afar, chasing you across school rooftops and coexisting in between the clashing of blades—xavier loves.

and love has made him content. and love has made him present, when he never was before. when all he could do, prior to your incarnation's existence, was think of returning to philos.

(how could he return to philos when you're right here?)

"[name]," jeremiah calls, feigning ignorance to the way xavier glares at him, the captain's tender expression suddenly dissipating into nothingness. ouch, jeremiah thinks, mouthing to xavier, "you don't have to make it that obvious you don't like me."

"yeah?" you reply, glancing up from the foliage. xavier reaches over the many shelves of flora—much to jeremiah's dismay—before parting them to get a good look at your face. xavier smiles. jeremiah's jaw drops.

"did you find something you liked? you said you had to get a bouquet for a friend, right?" jeremiah asks, egging xavier on.

"a friend?" xavier echoes, not even bothering to look at the florista behind him.

"oh, yeah! i'm choosing a bouquet for this one guy—" jeremiah sees the way xavier's expression goes blank, lips thinning into a line whilst his periwinkle eyes, somehow, manage to retain their enamored look.

ah, jeremiah realizes, it's 'cause captain is still looking at them. of course it is—why did he expect any other reason?

although xavier remains silent, jeremiah knows that the only thing running through the captain's mind is: guy, guy, guy?!

"a guy?" jeremiah queries, deciding to put xavier out of his misery.

"yeah. he worked with my grandma when she was younger, but i have to deliver it through one of my friends because he lives in the arctic..."

"that means he's old," jeremiah whispers, loud enough for only xavier to hear. the captain glances away.

at least try to hide that look of relief, jeremiah thinks incredulously. still, it's fun to see xavier like this: with his tense brows easing up, his thinned lips turning slightly upwards. when xavier loves, he does it with his whole being.

it's in the way he slips in between the aisles of flora in order to be next to you. in the way he carries the vases of flowers for you despite knowing you're perfectly capable of doing so yourself.

when xavier loves, it's evident in the way his cold, indigo eyes melt into hues made of periwinkle. it's in the way his touch, hardened by years of training, melts into something as light as a feather. it grazes past your face, brushing a stray leaf away.

"how much will it be, jeremiah?" you ask, preparing your coin pouch. jeremiah feels xavier's glare piercing his skin.

i know, i know! is all jeremiah thinks. "for free. don't worry about it!"

"huh? that can't be right... these are a lot of flowers, jeremiah."

"it's okay, [name]," xavier interjects, resting a hand over yours to prevent you from getting your money. "he owes me a favor, and i never buy flowers. so it's best used for your bouquet."

again, xavier lies fluidly through his teeth.

"are you sure...? you could buy a couple flowers, xavier! you know, to decorate your room?"

xavier shakes his head. "i'd forget to water them, probably."

liar, jeremiah thinks. for his own safety, he opts to keep his mouth shut, observing the situation with a suppressed smile.

xavier can't even be bothered to hide his infatuation—when he does so much as look at you, his world comes to a halt, his attention fixated wholly on you when usually it drifts off into wonderland.

when he does so much as hear you, or perceive you, or exist with you, xavier shrinks into nothing, permeating wholly into your skin, melting into your bones and becoming a part of you.

forget his title as captain, or lumiere, or crown prince—xavier becomes yours. and that's all he needs to be.

somehow, jeremiah thinks that xavier is more than just a lover.

he's love itself.

rafayel taps his foot impatiently. with his arms crossed, his gaze darts back and forth between the clock and the door, brows furrowing once he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.

"ugh, that bodyguard!" he cries to no one. "always making me wait for this and that.... puh-lease, like i care!"

rafayel turns around and starts heading into the art museum, lips curled into a pout whilst he glances occasionally over his shoulder. eventually, he stops, still trying to discreetly scope out the premises.

they're still not here?! is all he thinks, reaching for his phone with newfound passion. rafayel tries calling you a couple times, somehow getting more and more offended when you don't pick up.

he then resorts to spamming your texts, his phone flailing around in his hands from the onslaught of his madness.

"you think this is just a game, huh?!" rafayel texts. "fine, it is! whatever! not like i care!!!!"

when you don't respond, he blinks owlishly in disbelief, staring at the screen with his mouth hanging agape.

no way they ignored me! rafayel thinks, somehow even more offended than before.

but the irritation nestled in his stomach morphs into worry, and the worry contorts into yearning. oh, rafayel thinks, staring at your contact name for far longer than he'd like to admit. what if something happened to them?

rafayel's imagination eggs his yearning further. what if you're waiting for him somewhere—with nothing but him on your mind, of course—tears spilling from your eyes while crying his name? what if you're injured, clutching your wound whilst thinking of him—and his killer looks—wishing you could see him right now?

oh. rafayel's imagination eggs his yearning further. oh, what if they're injured? he thinks, his fingers beginning to glide all across his phone's keyboard, spamming you like a madman whose lost all sense of reason.

"you don't have to show up," he starts texting, but quickly deletes that sentence. "text me when you see this," he manages to send, hand coming up to fiddle with some stray strands of his wisteria hair.

he feels his heart thrash against his chest like a fish out of water, his skin beginning to feel stuffy while he grasps at his shirt, crumpling the pearl fabric under his hands. what if you're hurt? what if something happened to you? what if you're leaving, and he isn't able to catch up?

rafayel hates waiting. he turns around, heading toward the exit of the museum, ignoring the looks of confusion from the people who just watched him enter and clutch his head manically.

again, rafayel's imagination runs wild, feeding him delusions and convincing him that he's your knight in shining armor, saving you from the clutches of despair. obviously, after he saves you—with his killer looks and killer moves—you're going to grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness, hoping that he'll spare you so much as a glance for your impudence.

he tries to ignore the way his ribs begin to constrict, the way his chest begins to ignite with agonizing pain. not again, is all he thinks, rushing out of the museum. not again.

rafayel loves you. sometimes, he hates to admit it. sometimes, he knows it's fact. rafayel loves you—how could he not? you are bound to him, no, rather, he is bound to you.

rafayel is bound to you, yet even then, he struggles to keep up. he follows you hopelessly into every incarnation, trailing after your existence like a drowning man at sea, gasping for air and a wisp of your presence. he had you, once. and what a twisted thing love is, to give him so much hope and radiance, that he can't possibly fathom to live without it now.

rafayel is hooked on you, drinking you in greedily with his eyes, searching for you desperately amidst the tides. rafayel is hooked on you, he's left in a constant state of wanting more, more, more, even though you don't feel the same. even though you're perfectly okay with leaving him, oblivious to the effect you have.

you have carved rafayel's being, forcing his hands to be a perfect fit with yours, forcing his eyes to only ever hold you. you've dismembered rafayel's bones, taking apart the shafts and forcing yourself in, your existence running through his marrow, your existence running through his veins.

sometimes, rafayel hates what you've done to him. he hates how he's reduced to a spectator in your presence, the way he's destined to love you despite all you've done to him.

rafayel hates the way you go around, saving everyone, saving everything, even though he was the first. he was your first victim, your first lover, your first everything.

and you've forgotten. and you've forgotten. how could you? sometimes, rafayel envies you. he wishes he could be as blissfully ignorant as you, he wishes he could rendezvous around the world, unaware of what he's done before.

(how could he? how could he ever forget you? how could rafayel ever be anything more than what you've made him?)

he laughs bitterly to himself, running a hand through his hair when your caller id shows up on his phone. rafayel half-considers letting you go to his voicemail, but oh, the way his heart constricts, the way his hands instinctively move to answer.

rafayel isn't like you—he has a heart, first of all—he's made of memories, made of century-old pacts and vows that have haunted him across lifetimes.

rafayel isn't like you, because, first and foremost, he loves. he loves you. he loves you! and oh, how could he not? how could he ever forget what you've done for him? how could he ever forget what you've done to him?

(and yet, he loves you anyway. rafayel loves you, despite the way you betrayed him, despite the way you forgot. rafayel loves you, not only because he was made to love you, but because it's you. does he need any other reason?)

just before your call gets forwarded to voicemail, rafayel picks up. he swallows thickly, letting his yearning drip down his throat, permeating into his organs whilst he says, dreading the way his voice cracks, ever so slightly, "ahem. what took you so long, huh?!"

your voice glitches on the other end. rafayel feels heat rush to the tips of his ears, feeling the way you sound so close to him. he presses the phone closer to his head.

"sorry, rafayel! i was busy,"—rafayel scoffs at this, so is he, you're not special—"but i'm coming right now! just wait for me, okay?"

"ugh! no, i don't wanna! i'm leaving! did you hear that? i'm," rafayel trails off, pausing for extra emphasis (hoping that you'd care enough to interrupt him), "i'm leaaavvii—"

you hang up. rafayel gasps, staring at the end screen with a flabbergasted look.

"no way! ugh! nobody respects me around here! making me wait... who do they think i am? a waiter? the waiter?" rafayel mutters incredulously to himself, sending glares towards anyone who eyes him weirdly.

still, he remains put, crossing his arms with a pronounced frown whilst sunset eyes scan the area, looking for your familiar motorbike.

rafayel waits. begrudgingly.

then again, he supposes he does a lot of that when it comes to you.

he opens your contact one more time. "some bodyguard you are!!!" he texts. "i could be dying right now and you still wouldn't pull up, huh?!?!"

"i'm dying! i'm dying! heeeelllooo?! i'm dying!" he spams. the familiar whirring of a motorbike appears, and rafayel glances up from his phone, horizon eyes growing wide.

rafayel hates the effect you have on him, the way your sudden appearance can bring tsunamis to a lull, the way your sudden appearance makes an utter fool of him.

still, rafayel lets you get away with it.

(you've gotten away with a lot of things.)

"raf!" you call. "quit spamming me!"

when you take your helmet off, rafayel's breath hitches. you steal the oxygen from his lungs, a mere wisp of your existence making the world tumble.

"hmph!" he crosses his arms, hoping you don't see the way his ears bloom a violent red. "don't tell me what to do! do you know how long it's been?!"

"ten minutes?" you reply, unamused. rafayel glares at you.

too long, he thinks, eyes tracing over the bridge of your nose and the curl of your lips. the artist instinct with him begins to flare—he wants to paint, he wants to devote himself to you all over again, drawing tirelessly into the night.

"no. eight-hundred years, you idiot!"

you roll your eyes. "what an exaggeration."

rafayel huffs. "puh-lease! i just say it as it is!"

you start heading towards the museum, and rafayel scrambles to catch up, his throat beginning to close. his heart—whatever's left of it, at least—lurching forward.

it chases you. it chases you! it always, always chases you.

into every life, into every eon. rafayel chases you, desperate and made of memories, hanging onto the depths of your soul, forfeiting the ocean and the tide and all that ever mattered.

then again, rafayel supposes that none of it matters now. you're here.

and even if you don't remember, rafayel will love you anyway.

(how could he not?)

[slipperzipper]

Heimdall x f!Reader (Smut!)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| Contents: Massive warning for those who do not like sexual content because this oneshot contains smut smut smut! Sex pollen, Masturbation, Grinding, afab reader, p in v, creampie, rough sex, and orgasms, let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 3.2k

| Disclaimer!: Massive warning for those who do not like sexual content because this oneshot contains smut smut smut! minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start. also does anyone else still like heimdall? I know its been a year since I initially posted my first oneshot of this asshole. I'm deciding to repost this on tumblr since I know some people still like this man lol

“I’m pretty sure a legless donkey could move faster than you.” 

Heimdall’s voice called out, the two of you had been walking through the wild jungles of Vanaheim. So far, if it had not been for Heimdall’s insults and petty comments, it was going well. The flora constantly grabbing at your ankles and causing you to stumble slightly each time you continued or turned into a new direction, but that was the least of your worries. 

The reason why you were in Vanaheim in the first place was for the All-father, or Odin for short. 

According to Odin, there was a lost relic in Vanaheim that he desired desperately. Apparently so desperately that he forced Heimdall to bring you with him for extra help. Unfortunately you couldn’t exactly say no since you wanted to look good in front of the All-father, accepting the offer with a feigned smile. You were his guest afterall.

“I’d move faster if it wasn’t for your constant insults!” You laughed, you were a couple dozen feet behind him, he just had to lead the way since you were ‘too incompetent’ to do so. Your eyes seemed to be lost in the environment, its natural beauty and color was just a sight to behold.

You were almost jealous of the Vanir that they get to live in such a beautiful realm, but you were soon kicked out of your thoughts as the sound of the golden god yelping hit your ears. That caused you to walk a bit faster, before turning into a jog, then into a sprint in order to find him. You knew he couldn’t be hurt by a person or animal, but plant life? Can’t exactly read a plant’s mind if there’s no mind to read. Even when Heimdall was a dick, you knew Odin wouldn’t exactly be happy if his most loyal son died to some miniscule threat.

But that isn’t what you saw when you found him. There was a small red-pink plant next to him releasing a dusty spore, his arm covering his eyes before backing up and falling on his backside. You grabbed him from under his shoulders and dragged him out, his grumbles consisted of the plant and how he hadn’t needed the help.

“Heimdall! Are you okay?” You asked, your hands propping on your knees as you looked down on him. He groaned at this strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “Yes- yes I am fine.” Heimdall reassured before pushing himself up to stand, trembling slightly but ultimately walking it off.

Why was he acting like this? He was being complacent and hadn’t insulted you yet for asking if he was okay. This was out of character for him, even his tone was out of character, and you hadn’t failed to notice. “Heimdall, are you actually okay?” Your voice asked again right as you walked in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Yes, Of course I am fine.” Heimdall’s voice shook a little, catching you off guard since his dialect indicates that he’s the biggest and best bitch in the world. “Are you sure ?” You ask yet again, he brushed off the comment before continuing. 

“We must find Gulltoppr before we return to Asgard-” Heimdall’s voice trembled worse as he stumbled towards a tree. His hand gripped into the tree's vines as a way to capture himself from completely falling. A strangled grunt rippled through the air and made you stop in your steps towards the god. 

He sank to his knees while he had a full body reaction to the sensations around him. Heimdall was feeling all sorts of sensitive, even when he had moved his hands to catch himself, they were all tingly. 

When he heard your muddled voice call out to him for the umpteenth time, his heart skipped a beat when his brain processed your sweet words. Heimdall! What’s happening to you- Answer me! Your hands grabbed at his tunic and turned him around to see a sight to truly behold:

The Scion of the Aesir was sitting on his knees, in such a seductive and submissive pose that rattled your brain. His usual cockiness was wiped from his face and was instead replaced with bright red blush and with quite the pleading pout settling on his lip. His hands now finding purchase on gripping your clothes, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was grabbing. 

“H-Hey man, can you stand-” How he hated how your voice sounded. How it sounded like it was coated in the sweetest honey in of all the nine realms, he was easily entranced by it. From your point of view he looked hypnotized, absolutely lost in something.

He groaned when he felt the back of your hand touch his forehead, checking if he was possibly burning up from the plant’s spores. You weren’t technically wrong with that assumption because his entire body was emanating warmth, you could easily feel it when you planted your hands on his shoulders after he let out that little noise. 

“(Y/N).. please I-” He cut himself off with a pant and a down turned head tilt. “I need you.” 

He knew he would have some form of regret after this if he were rejected, whether that in your head that he was a little submissive slut or that he was so weak he got caught off guard by a plant of all things. He didn’t exactly appreciate the circumstances that led up to him on his knees. But he would soon know what you thought of this situation anyway. 

He brought his head back up to stare directly into your eyes, his bright purple ones held lust and need with parted lips. Speaking of his lips, they seemed a little bit more plump than what they normally were. You hated the fact that you knew exactly how his lips looked, from the quick snags you got when he wasn’t looking that you didn’t think much of until now. 

Shit! You just remembered he could probably read your thoughts right now. You got your answer when his lips tugged into a small crinkled-eyed smile before bringing you down by the grip he had on your clothes. His arms sliding around you to bring you into a tight hug when his mouth planted itself next to your ear.

“Please- Can I- Please may I have you?” His voice tickled your senses and caused shivers to go down your spine. It was just so desperate that you felt like you couldn’t say no. He moved himself from the side of your head only to look into your eyes again, just to read what little thoughts you had. Hues of colors were all he could see at the moment before the thought of him actually letting him have you in a jungle of all places, it was absolutely strange to you. But the look on your face told a different story. 

You would be a liar if you hadn’t at least one thought about what he looked like under all those layers, and that was all Heimdall needed to know before his hands found themselves hugging your hips instead. 

Forcing your body to grind down onto his newfound bulge. A moan erupted from his lips at the new found sensation adding onto his sensitivity. “Fu-Fuck..” Heimdall cursed while he continued to rub your clothed sex against him. The grip on your hips were harsh and it was like he was clinging for dear life, they were definitely going to bruise tomorrow.

“H-Heimdall!” You whimpered out when he grinded particularly too hard, the noise sounding like a siren calling sailors to shore. It was such a hypnotizing sound that he never wanted to stop hearing. The tingly sensation from the mutual rubbing was ever present in making his dick even harder.

“Heimdall!” You cried out his name once more. This time it actually captured his attention instead of adding to his sexual experience. He stilled his ministrations before retraining his eyes back onto yours, only to find them averted as he so desperately tried to read your thoughts.

“Are you sure of this? In the middle of a jungle..?” You barely whispered, but with his enhanced sense he could hear it as clear as day. He was reminded of his body’s blessing and curse that came from the plant’s spore when his body had moved against you by accident, a pathetic whimper erupted from the Herald of Ragnarok.

 

Your lips tugged into a small smile, you moved yourself against him just to tease him. Your shyness earlier muffled when Heimdall grinded against you once more, his lip quivering slightly as his gruff hands desperately grabbed and released your hips repeatedly. 

“Gah-! (Y/N)!” Heimdall cried out as his eyelids fluttered, his body jerking and his clothed pelvis flushing against yours. Forcing you to grind against him once more. He had panted heavily now, making you realize that he came in his pants. 

Your eyes widened when that piece of information dawned on you, you made the golden god himself come in his pants! You knew Heimdall wasn’t himself right now. He was high off his mind and you just made him come in his pants. Even when he technically consented, it still felt wrong. 

“Heimdall- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” You started to apologize before a weak hand planted itself on your mouth. “Just- Just stop talking.” The aforementioned god spoke with a harsh tone, you would lie to yourself if you said you didn’t feel a little hurt at his words. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you actually did quite the opposite.” His voice hinted. He brought his pelvis back to flush against your sex, you could feel your own wetness against him. You could feel him and how hard he was once more. He was hard again already?! 

“Yes. Yes I am.” Heimdall scoffed when he read your mind before a groan had caught him to keep him in check, how he was the one who was affected rather than you who was just as ruined as him but from natural causes. “You don’t mind helping me out, do you ?” He coyly asked with a head tilt just to further tease you. 

Heimdall had scooted you off of his lap so that he could stand and release the ache in his pants. Unfastening his belt and letting both his kilt and his pants hit the ground.You could only watch with a glimmer of shock, awe, and lust as his belt piles with the other clothes.  His cock was dripped in his own come, standing at attention with an angry red tip. He was also nicely trimmed and looked groomed, showing how well-kept he was. “After all, you did cause this.” Heimdall putting the blame on you was such an absurd claim, yet you couldn’t help but agree.

Heimdall couldn’t help but sigh when he did show himself, he felt so much better after letting his pants drop. But he also wouldn’t lie to himself when he thought about what you looked like underneath all those layers you wear. Coming back to you (who was still on the ground), he had grabbed the waistband of your pants, along with your undergarments, before pushing them to your ankles. Your lower half is on full display without any distractions.

It left him breathless, to actually see you. He soon shoved your upper half joined your legs on the ground, the harsh ground being familiar to you from the times when you sparred with the man. 

His fingers ran themselves through your folds, catching you off guard, causing you to squeak in surprise. You were wet, undeniably so, and Heimdall liked that. Your legs tried to crumple together but Heimdall prevented that with his polished hands 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, You really thought?” He panted out while he scooted close to you, basically hovering over you. You hadn’t really noticed until now but the atmosphere of Vanaheim really made Heimdall’s appearance glow, he was truly handsome. 

He felt particularly nice in his sexual suffering for some odd reason, his fingers feeling your pussy up in ways that you liked. You cried out when he swiped small circles on your clit, holy Hel, the touches were electrifying. It wasn’t long before Heimdall lined himself up with your hole. Giving you one last look, one of pent up lust and desire and need. His cheeks are a bright red color that paired so well with his fuschia eyes. He slipped himself in.

The warm feeling of your cunt caused him to loudly whine. Even when it was just the tip, it was just the most perfect sensation. It was like a drug implemented in his veins and he couldn’t get enough of it. Lifting your legs so that they would be planted on his shoulders as he drew himself closer, helplessly hung there while he drove his cock into you slowly.

You couldn’t help but whimper and grip the ground, the dirt digging into your nails, below as he inched himself in further and further. He eventually bottomed out, his pelvis meeting yours in a lustful stance. He had just sat there, letting you feel used to his size, it was nice of him to do so in this state when you originally thought he would just fuck into your un-prepared cunt.

But that was soon the reality when he brought his hips back and then slammed into your walls again. A howl crawled out of you when Heimdall repeated his action. Then the harsh repetition began. The pain soon washed away as your body started to get used to it. Your velvety colored walls were gripping him like a vice, and he couldn’t be any more happier. His cock fitting into your body like the perfect puzzle piece, as if you were made to be fucked by him.

Heimdall was thankful for that plant now, rather than being annoyed like he was previously, he was now glad that he could fuck your pussy into oblivion.

You couldn’t help the babbling noises of pleasure that escaped and obscured the natural sounds of Vanaheim’s jungles and you absolutely hoped that no one else was strolling nearby. You’d probably die from embarrassment if someone did, but that didn’t seem to matter at all as Heimdall slammed into you. 

He knew he was going to come. He knew you were too based on your thoughts on how you could barely hang on when he kept hitting that part inside you that made you see stars. His nails digging into your skin in small crescents, if he had dug any further he would have definitely drawn blood.

A few more harsh thrusts and you were done, your pussy contracting around his cock as you came. A loud mewl echoed through Vanaheim. Shortly after, you felt his hot load stain your body, a warm feeling spreading from inside.  

Heimdall’s hips jerked while he trudged through, trying to get the most out of his intense orgasm. Pressing himself as deep as he could from this angle, spilling his cum into you. The god was staring into your eyes the whole time, it was like an explosion that entered your mind. It was an array of bright colors that he had the fortune to see. His thighs trembled dangerously as he caressed yours. 

You couldn’t help but be breathless. You haven’t had an orgasm like that since.. You couldn’t even remember. Your thighs shook with intensity even after he fucked you through your orgasm. Heimdall withdrew from your pussy with a disgusting squelching sound and sighed heavenly.   

But that wasn’t it. He wasn’t done and he quickly recovered and developed a boner in the matter of moments even after the previous two, how the Hel was the plant’s spore still taking effect?! 

“One more, please , just one more.”

Heimdall spoke while a hand reached your face, grasping it uncharacteristically gently, and had your cunt gripping at nothing. You nodded wordlessly before being caught off guard by being flipped to your hands and knees, your ass presenting just for the God of Foresight to behold. 

Behold he did, his hands now moving your pussy to see the absolute mess he had made. He could feel his balls aching in preparation of stuffing your slit once more. Your head tilted at its side, somewhat being able to see what was behind you, only to be pushed down with a harsh shove and his dick slamming into your hole. 

A whorish mewl was drawn out. Loving how full you felt, you pressed your ass against his hips. Bottoming out once more before slamming his dick back in. The wet sounds of sex rung through your fucked mind. Your thighs slapped against Heimdall’s, he couldn’t help but enjoy it even more while your plush thighs rippled with each clap. You could barely think now, only processing the big cock inside your now abused cunt sliding back and forth at a pace you couldn’t fathom. You could only drool, rest your head on your hands, and wait to come for the second time. You did, you shook as it took place.

As your orgasm continued, you realized Heimdall was still going. 

You felt your clit get touched and you instinctively hissed, you were feeling just as oversensitive as Heimdall. The only difference being that he was powering through it, you felt like you were about to scream. 

"Just endure. You can give me one more just like you’re giving me mine.” Heimdall reassured, swiping your clit in a softer, less lustrous and more kinder than before hand, and you couldn’t help but let out a choked whine. 

He knew you came again when you convulsed and sunk slowly again. He looked into your eyes again and saw the previous show from before but it was just a bit dimmer and blunt, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it even more.  Heimdall came once more inside, quickly placing you into a mating press, the ground below you dirtying your arms and knees. The hot feeling adding onto the sexual experience. He stilled while his come squirted for the third time this session and he wouldn’t lie if this wasn’t one of the greatest times he’s fucked before.

After waiting some time, He pulled out. Watching the slimy line of his own jizz disconnect from the tunnel of shared seed mixing together, but seeing some of it drip down onto the ground prompted him to slide his fingers inside, shoving it back in farther just for you to savor it. You gave a weak whine at the action, but it's not like you can do anything about it. 

“I’ll call for Gulltoppr, just- stay here.” Heimdall stated, just beforehand he had helped you back into your pants and sat you against the very tree he fell upon. Strands of your hair sprawled from your hairline, he brushed some of said strands past and back into your hair to make it look more presentable. He himself was in his own clothes as he stood

He soon took off to look for his beloved pet, you couldn’t help but notice the stumble he had every few steps.

[jobean12-blog]

For the Love of Plants...and You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (plant!dad Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,229

Summary: You and Bucky go shopping for new plants and he has the best idea.

Author's Note: My lovely friend @sagechanoafterdark shared this wonderful little idea with me and I was so happy to have inspiration for more plant!dad Bucky! YAY! Thanks so much Sage! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's soft, sweet and fun, spicy and silly, some implied sexy times and Bucky is delish.

*If you want to read more about plant!dad Bucky you can find his other stories on his Masterlist labeled with 'plant!dad Bucky AU'*

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else doll?”

You look up from the current plant in front of you and stare unblinkingly for a moment before bursting into giggles.

Bucky’s arms are full of plants and his handsome face is obscured by various leaves and flowers.

You sift through the flora that hides him and find his blue eyes bright and crinkled at the corners with his wide smile.

“What?” he asks.

“It’s just…you’re so cute.”

His cheeks become tinged with a flush of pink and you lean through the leaves to place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for carrying everything. We really need to start getting a cart.”

“Nah doll, then we’ll go home with even more plants. And you don’t have room for more plants. At least this way we are limited to what I can carry.”

“What are you saying Bucky?” you ask with feigned shock.

He’s quiet for a moment and you worry that he thinks you’re serious.

You open your mouth to speak and reassure him you were just teasing but he beats you to it and says, “I’m going to build you new shelves.”

Now it’s your turn to be quiet.

“Doll?” he asks, trying to see you from around the armfuls of plants.

“You want…you want to build me shelves for my plants?”

He finds a free space on the plant stand outside and places a few down so he can actually see you.

“Yeah. Of course. I want you to have all the plants you can fit.”

“I didn’t know you could build things.”

Your voice comes out slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a devious smirk.

“Sounds like you like that I can do that,” he murmurs as he slips his free arm around your waist and tucks you into his side. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Mm,” you hum, laying your flat palm against his chest. “Very good actually.”

He dips his head to capture your lips, lingering with a soft kiss that has your fingers fisting in his shirt.

“Do you have a tool belt?” you ask him when he finally pulls away.

“I do.”

“You should do it shirtless. So, you don’t get too warm.”

“So shirtless with my toolbelt. Anything else?”

You tap your chin playfully.

“Your dark wash jeans. The really fitted ones.”

“Is this some secret fantasy you have?”

You bury your face in his neck and mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?” he chuckles.

“It wasn’t until you said you could build me shelves!” you squeak.

“This is gonna be fun,” he simpers as he releases you to grab the plants again. “Let’s go check out.”

As promised, later that day Bucky shows up at your place in his dark jeans with a tool belt hanging low on his hips.

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” you ask.

He covers his laugh with a cough and grabs your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“I didn’t want to take the train shirtless.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You answer. “Right.”

He laughs. “Right.”

“I know you think this is hilarious, but you don’t understand…”

His expression softens. “What do you mean doll?”

“It means a lot to me that you’d do this, and you support my love of plants.”

“Of course I would. And of course I do. And you know I love plants too.”

“I know, but even if you didn’t I just know you’d do it anyway.”

He brushes his lips lightly across yours, holding your gaze as he whispers, “I would.”

“Can we take this off now?” you ask as your fingers slide down his chest and under the hem of his shirt.

“Sure.”

He kicks the door shut with his booted foot and lifts his arms above his head. You start to peel the shirt from his body, the action deliberate as you watch every inch of his toned stomach come into view.

After staring at the distinct V shape at his hips you focus on the dark trail of hair just under his belly button then practically let out a moan when his abs flex and move as he shimmies.

“This is like porn,” you sigh dreamily.

That makes him laugh and he gets tangled in the sleeves of his tee.

You keep staring, enjoying all the shifting muscles of his torso.

“Little help here doll face.”

“Oh!...sorry Buck!”

You slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor, letting your fingertips run along the smooth metal of his left arm.

“There. Perfect.”

He takes you in his arms and spins you around until your back is against the door. Trapping you in place he settles both hands on either side of your head.

“You’re distracting,” he murmurs. “Not sure I can get to work just yet.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “Look at you.”

Your finger slips into the waistband of his jeans, and you give him a sharp tug, drawing him closer.

His hips press into your stomach, and you feel the hard length of him. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and toy with the button of his jeans before running your fingers along the leather of his tool belt.

The muscles in his stomach tense every time your skin touches his and you watch his dark eyelashes flutter against his cheeks with his barely controlled restraint.

His toolbelt drops to the floor with a loud thud and you pull the zipper of his jeans down.

“Doll,” he hisses when your hand slips inside his jeans.

You slide down to your knees, taking his jeans with you.

“Fuck you look so perfect on your knees for me,” he grits out.

You stretch out along the hard wood floor and press yourself against him.

Bucky’s fingers soothingly slide up and down your arm, his eyes closed and his breathing finally even.

“You need to make me a list of all the things you want me to build,” he says.

You laugh as you twirl a strand of his hair between your fingers. “It will be the longest list ever.”

“It better be,” he says, finally opening his eyes and pinning them on you. “I’ll building anything and everything if we can start every project like that.”

You kiss his neck, working your way to his chin and then along his jaw before climbing on top of him and kissing his lips.

“Deal!”

His hands are soft as they reverently trace the curve of your hips and waist. “You know what we still have to do?” he asks.

“What?” you smile.

“Name all the new plants!”

Your smile widens. “WE DO!”

You kiss him again and reluctantly move off him so he can get up. Once you’re both dressed, Bucky sans shirt of course, he starts working on the shelves.

You hold up one of your new plants, Devil’s ivy, and twirl the pot between your fingers, gently fingering the leaves.

“What do you think Buck?” you ask. “How about…Spaghetti!”

He looks up from the wood in his hands and nods with a smile. “That’s a good one, especially for the ivy.”

As soon as he finishes the thought his stomach promptly grumbles, making you both laugh.

“I’m just going to name these last two then I’ll start dinner…how does spaghetti sound?”

“Perfect doll face. It sounds perfect.”

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.2

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Ch Notes: No warnings for this chapter, Krolik=Bunny, Sestra=Sister

Summary: Wanda was sent away on important business, by the time she comes back you're all grown up and a part of the family company. Wanda doesn't come back home empty handed in fact she returns with a brand new wife.

An: Ok someone asked me for Ch.2 early and I had to deliver. Next Ch.3 will be up on Monday. Stay tuned and hope you enjoy.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

True to their word, the Maximoff’s provided you with a roof over your head and protection wherever you went. You never worried about your mother again and you saw your father whenever his schedule permitted. However, your primary residence was with the Maximoff’s. They were just as kind as they had always been.

Dragos and Flora paid for anything you could ever want or need. They paid for your tuition at NYU, though you tried to argue against it. You double majored in software engineering and physics. Without the constant insecurities that your parents piled on you, you were able to reach new academic heights.

Wanda had gone off right before her college graduation, Dragos said she was doing important work internationally. He didn’t know when she would be returning. There was a small part of you that hated that the woman didn’t come to your graduation, but a card from her in the mail was enough to make you smile.

Once you had your degrees you weighed your options. After multiple boring interviews and under stimulating work you finally asked Dragos if there was anything you could do in the family business. Pietro wasn’t thrilled about you wanting to be involved, but once he saw you at work, he knew you’d fit right in.

The crime was fronted by a legitimate business that Dragos owned. Which meant that you got to work out of one the tallest office buildings in New York. Your standing with the family also afforded you a desk pretty high up. When you weren’t hacking into competitors’ systems or running field operations, you did simple accounting for the company. It was easier that way, as the numbers for both the true business and the under-cover business were vetted by you.

“Y/n, come on a delivery with me?” Pietro pops his head into your office space.

“What kind of delivery?”

He smirks, “Special.”

You quickly grab your jacket and follow him out of your office. As you navigate to the bottom floor the two of you make small talk.

“So, when are you going to stop playing around and ask Monica out?”

Pietro rolls his eyes, “When you date someone for more than 2 outings.”

You feign a pained look, “Ouch, that one hurts Piet.”

“The truth often does.”

Once you both are out of the building and into the car your demeanor changes a bit, “So who are these going to?”

“Mr. H.”

You groan, “That guy’s sketchy, I don't like him.”

Pietro laughs, “I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way about us. “

“Whatever,” you mumble, scrolling through your phone.

The rest of the ride is quiet, until you pull up to the drop of location. “So, I’m going in and dropping the stuff off. You’re going to wait for me in the driver's seat.”

“Why the driver’s seat?”

He blinks at you, “In case we need to get away faster, you'll already be in here. Keep the car running, this should be quick.”

While Pietro goes in to handle the business, you let your mind spiral into thoughts about Wanda. You miss her and feel like it has been too long. Dragos said that she ended up staying in Russia for awhile before heading to their home country of Sokovia. Apparently, while he ran the business here, she ran the operations over there.

You weren’t surprised that Wanda was trusted with such an important role, she always had leadership qualities. For a long while you thought you wanted to be just like her. Instead, you realized that the older woman had been someone you were interested in. Wanda had nearly a decade on you in age, but how could you not like her as a young queer girl.

Sometimes you could still feel her hand delicately grazing your torso as she patched up the wounds your mother inflicted. For awhile in the Maximoff’s home everyone treated you as if you would break into a million pieces. Maybe Wanda did too, but it was different with her.

She wasn’t just careful with you because she was scared, you’d break, but she truly believed that you deserved the care. Even when you began training with her, she treated you delicately. You wanted to learn how to protect yourself and she stepped right in and became the perfect teacher. You also began going to the gym with Pietro at least once a week. You weren’t trying to be buff, but just in shape enough to defend yourself if you needed.

Even though your outward appearance changed to be stronger. You felt as though Wanda saw right through that into your deepest insecurities and tended to them accordingly.

Your daydreaming is cut short by Pietro busting out of the warehouse where the drop was supposed to take place, with the goods still in his hand.

“DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!”

He jumps into the passenger seat, and you hit the gas. Pietro is talking to you, but your adrenaline is kicking in. Your fieldwork doesn’t really get this exciting without a debrief. Getaway driver is definitely a new change in speed.

Your eyes focus solely on the road, ignoring what the man is saying as his chest heaves up and down. A quick glance in the rearview mirror tells you that they are following you. While you are curious about what happened, those questions can be answered later. 

Pietro is actually mildly impressed with your driving skills. Your sharp turns and redirections are top notch in his opinion. Though you are doing great the guys are still tailing you.

You think for a moment, trying to remember the nearest parking garage. You realize that it’s behind you and brake hard, you weave through oncoming traffic to try to get to the parking garage.

“Get ready to hop out,” you say to Pietro parking the car. Once you do the blonde starts running on foot and you call after him. He stops in his tracks frantic until he sees you breaking into another car. When you get in you drive normally out of the parking structure and straight back to the office.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n I didn’t know you could drive like that?”

Pietro grabs the wooden box from his lap before walking to the elevator. He wipes his hands on his jeans and proceeds as though it was a just another day.

“So, what the fuck happened?”

He raises an eyebrow, “You weren’t listening in the car?”

“Duh, I was a little preoccupied with the whole driving for my life thing.”

“I guess you'll hear it when I tell Papa then.”

The two of you are definitely headed to the top floor of the building to inform Dragos of what has transpired. Pietro is never one for knocking and simply barges into the man’s office.

“Papa, do you have a- Sestra?”

Pietro’s sentence dies in his throat as he gets a glimpse of his older sister. He wastes no time sitting in the wooden box on a couch nearby and scooping up the redhead in a tight hug. You could hear them exchanging more words in their mother language. It’s an unexpectedly tender moment as Pietro tries to keep things on the light side.

Somewhere in the hug Wanda’s eyes land on you and they widen slightly. She untangles herself from her brother to get a good look at you. She’s older, as expected, but age had been more than kind to her. Wanda looks as elegant as ever, an air of distinguish surrounds her.

The way she looks at you makes you feel like a teenager again. You do your best not to squirm under her gaze. When a smile placed itself on her lips, you feel relief washing over you. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulls you in to a big hug.

Her hands rise to hold your face, pulling back just slightly. She wants to get a good look at you. The softness of her hands causes you to blush.

“You’ve grown up on me little krolik.”

She releases the hold, and you speak, “You’ve been gone a long time, Wanda.”

There it is, in your voice for the first time in years; That fragile tone that you had only ever allowed Wanda to hear. You hope it didn't sound as desperate to everyone else in the room and it didn't. But Wanda picked up on it instantly.

“I have, but now I'm back; permanently,” Wanda says, keeping her eyes on you.

“And she brought a friend,” Dragos interjects, and you watch Wanda roll her eyes.

“She’s more than a friend Papa, she’s my wife and she’s sitting right here. I expect you to treat her kindly.”

Wanda is married and to a woman. Your mind scrambles to piece together what had happened in the years that she was gone for this to be the case. It is hard for you to digest what the woman had said. Your breathing becomes a little shallow, but no one takes notice.

Finally, you take notice of the other woman in the room, sitting in the chair next to the one Wanda had just been sitting in. Your mouth dries at the sight of her. The woman is stunning. Her auburn hair is a few shades darker than Wanda’s. She has a button nose, soft pink lips and piercing green eyes. You couldn't be mad at Wanda for marrying such a beautiful woman.

“Sestra, you’re married?” Pietro exclaims, looking between the two women dramatically.

“Yes; Y/n, Pietro, this is my wife, Natasha Romanoff.”

Your eyes linger on the woman even when Dragos claps his hands together to get the attention of the room, “Piet you were saying something important. I see that Mr. H didn't get his package.”

Any further pleasantries would have to wait.

“Papa it was a bad deal. They tried short me on our exchange, so I told them they could either bring me the rest of what they owe, or I’d be walking. They planned to take the package from me, so I ran immediately to the car. Of course they chased after me, but thanks to need for speed over here we got away.”

Dragos pinches the bridge of his nose lightly, “Don’t I always say being back up?”

Pietro answers back, “I took Y/n.”

This causes Natasha to chuckle a bit.

Your eyes narrow at her, “Something funny?”

She doesn’t back down, “Well from the way Wanda described you, you don't necessarily scream back up.”

Your jaw clenches slightly and you steal a quick glance at Wanda, “Wanda hasn’t seen me in over 5 years. I’m not that fragile little kid anymore.”

Dragos nods proudly, “Y/n is the biggest asset we have in this organization. She’s by far the glue that holds this all together and I will not tolerate any disrespect thrown her way.” The final part of his sentence carries a lot of weight to it, it’s a verbal warning.

Wanda clears her throat, “Hammerhead is a loyal customer, why would he try to cheat us?”

“He could have a new dealer,” you speak up. “Someone who might be charging less for similar goods.”

“You think someone is dumb enough to try to undercut us?” Pietro questions.

You speak candidly, “I think that people in this city can be greedy, and greed blinds all good sense.”

Dragos clearly agrees, “We need eyes and ears on the streets listening to anything about dealers that aren't us. I need a meeting with Hammerhead to make sure he’s got that big ugly head of his on straight. Y/n if I can't sell this, I'm going to have see a profit of this quantity somewhere else on the sheets.”

“Let Natasha and I come with you to your meeting Papa. I want you to see what we're capable of.”

“Papa, is this woman going to be joining our group?” Pietro asks.

You turn your attention to Dragos, curious of what the man has to say. There is an unbridled shine in Wanda’s eyes and a small upturn of Natasha’s lip. They seem to think that the man would say yes immediately.

Instead, he heavily sighs, “For now Ms. Romanoff is simply Wanda’s… wife. There is a chance that she’ll be given access to join. However, her involvement isn’t guaranteed. So just to be clear, she’s not going to be sitting in on the meeting.”

Wanda wants to fight back, you can tell, but she refrains. The playfulness of her features dissipates as she responds, “Is she at least allowed to stay and watch them work?”

“Y/n do you mind if Ms. Romanoff shadows you for the rest of the day?” You know what Dragos was actually asking of you. He wants you to vet her.

Your eyes land on the woman, staring at her intensely, “Sure.”

She squirms in her seat which makes you smile a bit.

“Pietro,” Dragos starts.

“Eyes & ears I’ve got it Papa,” he’s out of the door fast, setting the plan in motion.

Dragos presses a small button on his desk, “Kate can you set up a meeting between Hammerhead & I. It needs to be as soon as possible. Make it clear that if I’m kept waiting, there will be extra fees to pay. Ones that can't be bought by money.”

“No problem Mr. Maximoff. Should I have Clint get the car ready?” She responds over the intercom.

“That’ll be great, thank you Kate.”

Now it is Wanda who claps her hands, “So I guess it’s time to get to work. Which mean it’s time to say goodbye to my beautiful wife and my little krolik.”

Natasha stands from her seat and places a gentle kiss on Wanda’s lips. “Be safe,” she murmurs, not quite ready to part from her wife.

“I’ll be fine Nat, it’s just business as usual.”

Something about the two women in the same line of sight together made you feel weird. You had seen beautiful couples before, but you seem to be a little mesmerized by the sight of Natasha and Wanda. For now, you would say that it was just the shock of seeing Wanda after all these years and being blindsided by the news of her marriage.

“Have you changed too much to give me a hug before you go?”

The teasing tone in Wanda’s voice makes you roll your eyes. You walk over to her nonetheless, “I hugged you earlier, you know.”

Wanda doesn’t hesitate to pull you into another hug. “I know, but maybe two is too much for the new Y/n.”

You look up at her, maybe for a second too long, and you can’t help yourself, “Don’t worry, part of me is still your little krolik.”

A slight blush paints over her features as she smiles at you, “Good, keep my wife safe, ok?”

Your eyes cut to Natasha, “Of course, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You walk out of the office with Wanda’s wife trailing closely behind you.  

“So, are you going to show me what makes you the glue?”

Her words make smile tug on the edge of your lips, “If you’re lucky.”

[leonenjoyer69]

New oc dropped: Mr. Lovell Roser, Medicinal Necrobotanist!

A quick summary!!! (His full character sheet and successful experiment will be under the cut :3)

New OC dropped, a Lodger this time!! This is my new guy Lovell Roser, a Medicinal Necrobotanist at the Society :33 his work consists of: general herbal healing of wounds and sickness, treatment of infection or bodily rot, and the slowing/reversal of death by integrating plants into a dying or passed life form!! Basically, he wants to make flower-zombies. Most of his experiments result in creatures suffering from a rabid state, but he mayyyy have succeeded on bringing one man back..

Otherwise!! He's a very paranoid, partially apathetic dude. Most of his empathy is saved for his plants and the people he likes, but he can still usually throw on a friendly or caring act. Sometimes however, he does tend to go more blank, quiet, and oddly jumpy. He doesn't tend to let himself express any negative emotions like anger, always trying to keep an upper hand on his weaknesses unless something reallyyyy gets to him.

So!! To express his emotions, he relies on flower language and gifting flowers and bouquets, feeling that they speak more words than he ever could. So, he's gifting flowers constantly, for good and bad. Otherwise, he's generally enjoyable-- or at least tolerable-- to be around. He also does journaling for a bunch of different things, mainly on plants and his fears.

I think at the Exhibition he'd show more of his healing stuff, kinda just... Skirting the whole "resuscitation via plants" thing under the rug for a bit. To be honest, he doesn't even really like the other lodgers knowing he experiments with that stuff, but most of them are at least surprisingly supportive. High society, however? Definitely not supportive. Anyways, yea, he'd show his little salves and powders and tinctures, also showing the stuff to fight infection and rot, probably explaining how wow!!! These everyday flowers and herbs have so many benefits!!!

And then yea, full character sheet and his "son" Proteus (made by @sunset-sunbun ) under the cut!!!

Name: Mr Lovell Leocadius Roser

Age:28

Pronouns: he/him

Science: Roser studies something he calls "Medicinal Necrobotany", which consists of; general Herbal healing of wounds and sickness, treatment of infection or bodily rot, and the slowing/reversal of death via integrating plants into a dying or passed life form. To the general public, his work only seems to consist of healing salves and powders and tinctures, which he's commonly visited for. However, his work certainly goes much deeper than that. He aims to bring back life, much like Frankenstein, but with the use of flora, seeing if once someone becomes one with nature, they can also be brought back with it. Most of his experimenting is on deceased animals, trying to intricately fuse roots and nerves and make the flora a part of the body, which brings it the energy to come back. Any "successes" so far have ended in an almost rabid, zombie-like state, leading to him having to constrain or put down the creature. However, he has experimented on a few human bodies, and one *may* be successful..

Personality: a paranoid, plant loving dude. Definitely has empathy issues towards people, unless he's closer to them. Most of his empathy is for his plants (and ofc the people he likes). He usually seems somewhat cheerful, fine to talk amongst people and feign empathy with people he's less close to, but sometimes he seems more blank and jumpy. It's usually best to just leave him be when he's like that, unless you're closer to him. Otherwise, he tries not to outwardly express many of his negative emotions, always trying to keep an upper hand on his weaknesses, so he never really shows his anger or annoyance unless something has *really* gotten to him. Somehow, this doesn't stop him from still being an asshole. (Some of the lodgers have also probably seen him cry at least once though, a damning combination of paranoia and sleepless nights tend to set him on edge and one good spook can have him tearing up.)

When he has trouble articulating his feelings, he tends to fall back on flower and bouquet meanings, since he feels they mean much more than words. He also uses this as an outlet for his negative emotions, gifting flowers that have negative symbolism. So, all in all, he's gifting people flowers *all the time*, whether for good or bad. He also has a fear of spirits, specifically malicious ones, so he tends to keep protective plants on him at all times (lavender, ferns, sage, and his 4-leaf clover necktie pin), and when experimenting he's insistent on having his full body covered.

All in all, he's *generally* enjoyable to be around, or at least tolerable, usually more of a listener unless a topic of plants or medicine crops up, then he tends to ramble. Most of his free time is spent tending to his plants, experimenting, wandering the society, or journaling. The journaling ranges from plant and flower information and meanings (which he has logged extensively), slave, medicine and tonic "recipes", experimental logs, paranoid ramblings, and suspicions/gossip on people.

Backstory: As a kid, he lived more in the country, somewhat separated from society. This lead to his initial interest and curiosity in plants, as he spent most of his time outside among nature. His father was a kindly working man, though a bit emotionally distant, and his mother was sickly and snappy, leading Roser to prefer being out of the house. He started reading books of crazy scientists and monsters, which began to cause paranoia, though his curiosity tended to override his fears.

He became fascinated with herbal healing, reading and learning of flora's many uses, and became specifically curious about bringing things back with nature when he first came across a deceased animal, partially reclaimed by nature. He noticed how the plants prospered around the decay, and began to off handedly wonder if that Bloom of life could bring someone back, like how Frankenstein made his creature, except without electricity. He eventually went to university for anatomy and surgery, but he eventually switched to botany and horticultural classes. He made herbal medicine as a sort of side job, mainly experimenting with things, and a few years after university he found the society.

Lodger relationships: he's closest with Tanis (despite his fear of spirits), Doddle, Flowers, Rachel, Bird, and Archer. He's quite neutral on most of the others, but he's a bit intimidated by Maijabi, Cantilupe, and Ito (despite occasionally supplying her with things.) The main exceptions to that neutrality lies in Helsby and Griffin, who have caught Roser in a prank one too many times (and disrespected his lovely plants.) Roser is usually regarded quite well, especially since he's the main person to go to for any medicinal or healing reasons when potions are either unnecessary or just distrusted. Additionally, he won't admit it, but Roser has occasionally used Griffin or Helsby as a sort of test subject for new concoctions. Additionally, he's very half and half on Jekyll, of course greatful for the home he's been able to make in the society, but not very close to the man. There's just something off about him, but Roser holds no ill intent towards him. Hyde, however? He quite dislikes. Hyde has bothered him and messed with him and disrespected his plants enough that Roser gets annoyed at the mere sight of him, surprisingly snappy towards the blond.

His "successful" experiment: he somewhat succeeded in bringing back one human body, old name unknown to him, but Roser's called him Proteus, after the Protea flower, which symbolizes transformation. He's very cautious with Proteus for a good while, but it eventually gets a bit better. Proteus can't talk, and he's partially held together with poppies and carnations, as well as a general mix of other flora and fungi. He's usually quite out of it, not always responding to sound stimuli, but he's also seemingly not aggressive or prone to lashing out. Proteus is Roser's pride and joy, and he makes sure to care for him the best he can, pushing aside any fears or paranoia. He treats Proteus like a son, in his own silly way, making sure he's fed and hydrated and not rotting, testing him to see how he responds to things and how well he can still function. (Proteus's character and design was also made by @sunset-sunbun so once again big thanks to Sunny for Roser's flower zombie son!!!!)

Extra stuff: he made the little strap that holds his lavender himself and put one on each waistcoat. Not only to protect him, but also to showcase to people that he's not the most trusting. He's also allergic to bees! So all of the pollinators in his room are mechanical ones (made by Flowers (or his boyfriendddd)). He has these frequent premonitions or gut feelings that something is going to go bad. If they're not strong enough, he tends to try and ignore them, chalking them up to mere paranoia, but if it's stronger he tends to give into it, warning those who will listen or who he feels is in danger. He's felt dreadfully drawn towards Jekyll for a while now, and despite feeling quite neutral about him, Lovell has been trying to slip him warnings and protections.

If you read all of that, tysm :33 proof again that I cannot leave my characters simple or partially developed, I go ALL the way

He also!!!! Has a boyfriendddd-- a fellow Lodger named Vasily (who's @arsieu s OC :D) I love them sm. Also art by Arsie ofc

[raspberrybirb]

Getting Puzzol 🧩hints from his wife

It's Flora's birthday and one of the things Alfendi is focused on is stumping his father on a puzzle 🧩 but before heading to Flora's birthday party he asks help. (Fic under the cut)

I don't have much experience with writing Lucy's accent or writing in general but here goes

"Lucy is there something we're running from that l'm not aware of", Alfendi cried as he held on for his life to the cars grab handle.

"No", she giggled as she turned the steering wheel to turn into the street leading to Scotland Yard.

"Then what the hell are you speeding for", Al exclaims

As the car slows to a stop and the car's doors open and the two detectives emerge, Lucy playfully responds, "oi you said it was important, "Prof" ".

"Really Lucy the old nickname", Fendi grumbles as he tries to recover from the drive.

"And yes it is important...", he adds Al mischievously unbeknownst to his wife who has already made her way to Scotland Yard's steps. He was there for his magnum opus the puzzle sure to stump his father and Flora's gift which he couldn't store at home due to Lucy regularly inviting Flora and Kat for tea.

The two make their way into the building passing the many busy offices and coworkers making their way to a wing of Scotland Yard in which Alfendi and Lucy both had their offices, much better offices than the one they first met in.

As Alfendi goes to his office to retrieve the his masterpiece of a puzzle and Flora's gift, a beautiful ornate vase with an apple theme. Shuffling through one of the many open boxes in the messy office he spots the puzzle he had jotted after a tiresome case. Storing it in his suit pocket departing from his office he had one more stop to make.

He makes his way to Lucy's office to get ready to head to the restaurant his family had reserved for Flora's birthday, he sets the gift box on a wooden table.

"'eeeee is that Flora's gift" Lucy excitedly says as she makes her way to the box before getting stopped in her tracks by her tall redheaded husband as he steps front of her causing her to bump into him

"Lucy I'm afraid cannot let you do that", he chuckles.

"Eh why not?", she inquires.

"You my dear have a tendency to tell Kat or Flora what their gift is, he playfully remarks.

"I don't think like that comment Inspector Layton", she says feigning offence.

"And besides I need your help for something", he informs her.

"Oh, what for Alfendi", she responds with curiosity.

"A puzzle I've been working on in my free time to stump my father, imagine the Great Professor Layton beat by the unsolvable puzzle created by none other than his own son", he mischievously grins as he hands Lucy a piece of paper.

Lucy reading over the puzzle while Alfendi lets his ego go to his head. After he's done he walks over and watches Lucy attempt to solve the puzzle.

"I've got it", she excitedly exclaims.

"No, there's no possible way", Alfendi cries.

Lucy adds," 'eres a hint, maybe don't write how you created the puzzle on the receipt you left in the office from lunch last week.

"Wha-",he attempts to ask before a thin peice of paper is waved in front of his nose.

"Damnit", he grumbles in defeat.

"Cheer up it was a good puzzle if it weren't for the hints it would've stumped me good", Lucy says standing on her tippy toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek to cheer him up.

He gives her a bashful smile before making their way out of Scotland Yard, and speeding off to Flora's birthday party.

[nocasdatsgay]

Not Going Anywhere: Spring Time Affairs

Pairing: Tamlin/Elain/Lucien/Flora| Rating: G | Word Count: 934

Master List| Read on Ao3

Summary: Elain is pregnant with her first child and Ez has concerns about his place in Elain and Lucien’s life now.

Author’s note: For Day 3: Will There Be Enough Room @polysjmweek

Tagging: @ninthcircleofprythian @hieragalbatorixdottir @thisblogisaboutabook @daycourtofficial @secret-third-thing @pit-and-the-pen

“Wait, when does Lucien come back?” 

Flora had stood up fast, turning to Elain with wide eyes. Before, they were working in silence. Flora picked herbs for one of her new experiments, while Elain sat on a stool in front of a portable table, propagating some tulips from the continent. They both started early while the greenhouse was still cool.

Elain glance up thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Should be before dinner.”

Flora sighed deeply, dumping her herbs into her basket. “I doubt that will be in time. I forgot to tell you, Ez wanted to speak with you both today. Knowing him, he’ll find you first.” 

Elain gently tilted her head.  “What for?” 

“For that,” Flora pointed at Elain’s round belly hidden by the table. “He’s worse than me with his worries. He told me last night he thought you and Lu would be leaving and not love him anymore.”

Elain’s eyes instantly watered, shock etched into her features. “Why would he ever think that?” 

“I don’t know,” she sighed and placed her herbs in her basket. “I asked if it was nerves from not being the only youngling anymore. He said no, he was still excited. I think someone in court said something in front of him. You know, because of Lucien’s real father.” 

Elain instantly angered. “They have no right to gossip in front of our boy like that. It’s none of their business who Lucien might be tied to. We talked to Helion half a century ago. He isn’t going anywhere any time soon. By the mother, if something happens the magic might even choose Elios instead of Lucien.” 

“Cauldron knows it but these old fae like gossip.” Flora sighed heavily again. “Remember when I had Ez? I just knew they were whispering behind my back.” Then she laughed. “Maybe that’s why Ez worries so much.”

“Maybe.” 

A flood of emotions hit Elain hard. It was easy to be overwhelmed with the babe growing inside her. She rubbed her stomach, the babe gently kicking back. Ez had been the most excited out of all of them when Elain’s scent changed. Once he knew what that meant anyways. He’d help her pick out the colors for her announcements and theme for the nursery. She didn’t understand why he would suddenly think they would leave. 

Sure enough, he found her later while she was sitting by the fountain in the afternoon, soaking in the sun and cool breeze in the swing. Judging by the ink on his hands, he’d finished lessons for the day. She smiled at him as he approached, trying to not giggle as she watched him brush his blond hair out of his face from the wind. 

“Lainy?” 

“Yes, my little beastie?” 

He smiled bashfully, stopping in front of her. “Mama said I should talk to you.” 

“Did she?” Elain feigned ignorance. “About what?” 

 “Well, you and Lu are having a baby.” He glanced down at her stomach. 

“We are.” 

“And you said I was your baby.” 

“I did.”

There was a long pause between them and Elain rocked the swing with her foot gently while Ez looked at the ground. 

He finally whispered, “So you, you don’t need me anymore?” 

It hurt Elain’s heart to hear him say it. More so than she thought it would. She blinked profusely before asking, “What do you mean, Ez?” 

“You have your own baby now. You don’t need me anymore. I’ll just be mama and papa's.”

“Why would you think that?” 

“I know you love me and mama and papa. But you aren’t my mama.” He frowned, with tears in his eyes. “Are you going to leave and have a new house? For your new baby?”

Mother help her. 

“Come here,” Elain stopped the swing and reached out to him. He hesitated, but stepped forward. Elain cupped his face and brushed his cheek with her fingers. “Why do you think we are going to leave?”

“Drax moved away.” He whispered. 

Right, Elain thought. Drax was one of the few younglings Ezyrn’s age. Soren was expecting again and announced it right as her husband agreed to take on governing duties in the village in the east. They’d left a week ago, which explained Ez’s sudden thoughts.

“We aren’t going to leave. Ez, look at me.” She tilted his chin up gently. “You are just as much my baby as this one. I will always need you, my little beastie.” 

“Even Lu?” 

“Lu especially. We love you very much. We aren’t going anywhere. Understand?” Ez nodded. After a moment she sat back and added. “Do you want to know a surprise?” His eyes widened and he nodded again. “It’s a boy. Which means you’ll have a brother in a sense. Your mama doesn’t know yet. Do you want to be the one to tell her?”

He grinned.“And papa?” 

“Papa knows.” She couldn’t help herself laughing. Ez didn’t know it was payback for when he was in his mothers belly. “It’s a surprise for just your mother. The court doesn’t know yet either.”

“Can I go tell her now?” His face was lit with excitement. 

“At dinner. I want Lu and your father to see the look on her face too,” Elain replied, with a cryptid smile of her own. She stood from the swing and held out her hand to Ez. “Let’s go for a walk. Tell me about what you learned today.” 

Any fears Ez had were gone. He took Elain’s hand and they walked to the gardens together while he told her about his studies of the day. 

[chilling-seavey]

I May Be Crazy, But I Ain't No Fool (ln4)

↳ Timeless: F1 Grid Masterlist

↳ Summary: With London still filled with horse-drawn carriages, Lando's most prized possession is his brand new Ford Model C...and he plans to use it to his advantage.

↳ Title Song: I May Be Crazy, But I Ain't No Fool by Bob Roberts (1904)

↳ Word Count: 1.0k

↳ Warnings: Smoking. 

June 1904

The sun was bright that afternoon, a rarity for London, when the smog from the factories seemed to take the day off. It was a Sunday, perhaps that was why; the labourers kicking up their feet for a measly 24-hours off the clock while the wealthy went by like any other day. Lando, privileged enough to be one of the latter, had perfected the art of looking busy over the years. In fact, it might have been his best skill. 

On this particular Sunday, he found himself out front of his family home, loitering around the front drive on which the shiny red Ford Model C sat in all its glory. Motorcars were still a rarity in London at the turn of the century and Mister Henry Ford was ever so gracious enough to provide some of his automobiles to the United Kingdom only as of the year prior. Of course, Lando needed first claim to whatever was available. With his father’s connections in the automotive industry, this was made all too easy. 

As much as Lando was proud of his automobile and the wealth of his family that backed it, he certainly wasn’t obnoxiously ostentatious about it. Instead, he let the specimen speak for itself with its crisp red paint glimmering in the bright afternoon sunshine while he lingered about like he wasn’t waiting for someone passing by to ask him about it. 

He sat on the front porch with one of his sister’s novels in his hands and pretended to read, he crouched by the garden in his slacks and blazer and pretended to care about the flora growing in the beds, and, when he got really desperate, he even took a cloth to the automobile to give it a little polish. It was around then that he noticed a group of young ladies meandering down the street in the distance. 

Now, Lando was absolutely no fool and, in that moment, he could see himself getting a right grand deal: a chance to show off his brand new motorcar and the swooning attention of women. 

With his sights set on the distant gaggle of females, he opened his jacket and pulled out his tin of Wills cigarettes, slipping one out and setting it between his lips. He hurried to light it and then stamped out the match on the side of his boot before casually leaning against the side of his automobile with the polish rag draped over his shoulder. 

The trio of women approached in their Sunday dresses and carrying lacy parasols, their attention drawn to the bright red machine on their way past. They slowed to get a good look, their eyes wide in awe. 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Lando greeted with a handsome smile, pushing himself straight with another drag of his cigarette as he addressed them by name and a polite nod of his head to each, “Miss Ackerman, Miss Fields, Miss Hawthorne.”

The ladies bent at their knees just ever so slightly in response, their attention trained on the magnificent machine sitting in front of his house. 

“Mister Norris, my, my,” one of them spoke in awe, “I was not aware of your purchase of a motorcar.”

“Oh, this?” Lando glanced over his shoulder to the car, feigning modest ignorance, “Yes, it was a recent investment. Ford Model C; one of only ten in all of the United Kingdom.”

“Oh, how splendid!” one of the women gushed as the others nodded and praised in wonder.

Lando smiled back at them, “She’s a beauty, is she not?”

“Have you taken it around?”

“Yes. She rides much smoother than a carriage, I must admit,” Lando boasted modestly.

He walked around the perimeter of the automobile, allowing the women to follow in awe. Lingering to the side for a moment to take in their praise and intrigue, he finished his cigarette and put it out.

“Say,” he stepped forward, resting a hand on the rear of the car, “it’s awfully warm out here to-day; may I escort you home, ladies?”

The trio shared soft giggles amongst themselves at not only the offer for a ride in a motorcar but from the mouth of the handsome son of one of London’s most highly regarded families. 

“We dare not put you out, Mister Norris,” one of the ladies politely refuted. 

Lando waved his hand as if to physically brush away her reluctance, “Nonsense, it would be my pleasure.”

With the women in agreement, Lando smoothly stepped up beside the motorcar and opened the small rear door with a click before offering his hand out to the first of the trio. She smiled bashfully at him and set her gloved hand in his, using her other to hold up her dress and petticoat so she could step up into the back seat. 

“It is quite a jump,” Lando warned them kindly as he helped the next young lady up, “Mind those beautiful dresses of yours.”

With the last of the three taking his offered hand, she praised him adoringly, “You are such a darling.”

“You are far too kind, Miss Hawthorne,” Lando tutted and helped her up into the back of the car. 

Then, he closed the small door and made sure it was securely closed before hopping up into the front seat. The open top automobile, in its red-painted glory, housed luxurious black leather seats and gold metal headlamps and trim. As Lando situated himself in the front seat, he adjusted himself comfortably behind the steering wheel that was secured down to the front of the car by a long metal post. Sitting there, behind the wheel, something inside him stirred like this was where he was always meant to be.

With a choked rumble, the engine came to life and the giggling women in the backseat hooted in surprise. Lando grabbed his derby hat from beside him on the front seat and placed it atop his head of styled curls before glancing back to his passengers,

“Hold on tight now, ladies. I must get my precious merchandise delivered back to their fathers in pristine condition.”

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[notablenotions]

To Bartosch, My Sensible Half

Rattay, Day 23

Dear Bartosch,

I trust you’re well and not, say, imprisoned in a castle with two grown men who believe “whispering” about their nightly activities outside my door renders them undetectable. I envy you.

Hans and Henry are still... themselves. Yesterday, Hans declared his love for hunting while gazing directly into Henry’s eyes for a full minute. I timed it. George would have choked on his wine.

I have completed a study of the flora in the southern woods and found the rare purple hellebore. More exciting than my husband’s feigned interest in ladies. Speaking of which, he tried flirting with a visiting noblewoman and ended up complimenting Henry’s sword instead I believe a euphemism.

Radzig observed the exchange with the expression of a man at the gallows.

No one else has noticed. Am I the only sentient being here?

Best,

Jikta

P.S. Mutt has taken to sleeping outside my door. I suspect even he knows.

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

A/N - As promised, one for male-presenting folks. This is also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448742/chapters/135282199

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEM VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.

In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.

Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-

Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.

“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). He’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”

“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.

As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.

First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.

Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?

“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.

“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”

“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”

“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.

“Yep, he’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? He helps with everything here, and he doesn’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”

“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Honestly? Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.

Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’

“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.

It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.

“That’s my girl.”

For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?

She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.

Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.

“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”

“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.

“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”

“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.

“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your cleaner!”

She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.

“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”

Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.

“Alright,” He agreed.

Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.

“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.

“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.

[kirain]

Part twelve of my appreciation project.

@nostalgiaclown A fic based on their wonderful screenshots here and here. Thank you for feeding the fandom!

The Grand Necropolis. Holly had always loved it. The cool, underground air carried the damp scent of earth, tinged with the sweetness of nocturnal blooms. The gardens were unlike anything found on the surface—delicate flowers unfurling beneath the glow of bioluminescent fungi, blue creepvine twisting through the shadows, their leaves shimmering with an eerie silver sheen.

It had been years since she last walked these paths, yet it felt like slipping into an old, familiar dream. Ghost orchids clung to stone pillars, their white petals trembling in invisible currents. Darkspore lilies, their deep, bruised-purple blades pulsed faintly in response to movement. Weeping widowers defied their name, their elegance unmatched. And Shroud's Kiss—a gorgeous perennial found nowhere else in Thedas—blossomed lavishly around lovers' graves, a final testament to bonds that even death could not sever.

And Emmrich—he was walking beside her. Again. She still wasn't sure what to make of that. The first time he had invited her, she assumed it was some casual, gentlemanly gesture—a brief conversation stretched into a shared stroll. But now, the second time, she wondered if there was intent behind it. A purpose.

She wasn't certain, and that uncertainty made her wary.

Emmrich, however, remained in good spirits, his voice carrying that ever-present trace of enthusiasm. Perhaps a habit ingrained from years of teaching, he pointed out the flora, explaining which plants could be used in tinctures and which ones could kill outright. Holly listened, of course—despite already knowing—but her responses were brief: a nod, a hum, a quiet mhm.

She expected him to lash out or sneer at her feigned indifference—most men did when she didn't shower them with undue praise. But Emmrich either didn't notice or, if he did, he was grateful for her company alone. He just kept talking, his smile warm and easy, making her stomach coil with something she refused to name.

It was better, she thought, to focus on the flowers.

As they walked side by side, the winding path led them to a quaint, secluded alcove where a cluster of moonflowers thrived, their broad, snowy petals glowing under the viridescent torchlight. As they passed through the rows, Holly's fingers grazed one of the velvety petals—only to tense at a quiet, wistful sigh.

"What a shame," Emmrich muttered, crouching down. One flower's stem had partially snapped, bowing in helpless surrender. "One of the initiates must have stepped on it."

For a moment, he studied its condition, assessing his options. It literally hung by a thread, its membrane irreparably damaged.

"Poor little thing."

Sadly, he ripped the stem the rest of the way. Then, before Holly could question him, he stood and gently tucked the flower into her hair.

She froze.

She could feel the near-weightlessness of the bloom, the faintest tickle of petals against her temple. His touch. Her fingers twitched, instinctively wanting to reach up and pull it free. But before she could, Emmrich stepped back, his hazel eyes tracing her face.

"Beautiful. Now its death won't be in vain."

The words were simple, wholesome—yet they set fire to her skin. She willed herself not to react, but she failed. Warmth spread across her cheeks, unmistakable, rushing from ear to ear. Immediately, she turned away, fixing her gaze on the moonflowers as if they had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Are you all right?" Emmrich asked, taken aback.

"Yes," she said, too quickly.

A beat of silence stretched between them, but mercifully, he let it go.

"Would you like to see the potting shed in the east orchard? I believe it was added shortly after you left us."

They walked on, but Holly no longer felt drawn to the gardens. The flowers, the dulcet pull of home—none of it held her attention anymore. Her heart fluttered, unsteady, unfamiliar, and she didn't know what to do. She had never felt this way before. Not about anyone. Emmrich was intelligent, compassionate, introspective. He found her attractive?

She shook her head, refusing to dwell on it.

"You're going to adore the jardinières. We were recently gifted a bronze collection from the royal family, and their artistry is mesmerising. You know, when I was a boy, I considered a career in botany. So when you told me of your passion for the craft, I was ecstatic. Few appreciate the science behind nurturing plants. It's no simple task to—"

He kept rambling, his stories unending, but Holly found that she had come to enjoy it. There was a sincerity to him, almost innocent in its openness—guilelessly complimenting her, oversharing, radiating a zest for life that she had long forgotten.

"And what of you?" he asked, shattering her daze.

"I'm sorry?"

"What did you want to be when you were younger?"

"Oh, well... I guess exactly what I am now," she sputtered. "Being raised in the Necropolis without magic was... tough, but I'm proud to be a Mourn Watcher."

"As you should," he lauded.

As they rounded the bend, Emmrich tilted his head towards the cliffside. Thick, cladodial shrubs sprouted through the rock face, their dark leaves glossy under the evening light. Amidst the foliage, clusters of tiny red berries peeked through the dense greenery, their hue vibrant against the stone.

"The butcher's-broom is growing well," he noted.

"Butcher's-broom?" Holly stopped in her tracks. "Here?"

"Yes! Very unusual, isn't it?" Emmrich agreed, pressing his hands together. "But we've been lucky this year. They're receiving just enough sun through the skylights."

A rare, genuine excitement sparked through Holly's nerves. Without hesitation, she strode towards the cliff, her mind set. Emmrich barely had time to react before she was already reaching for the precipice.

"What are you doing?" he called, following after her.

"The berries!" she answered, starting her ascent. "They're perfect for restorative potions!"

Emmrich flinched, looking from her to the bushes, as if debating whether or not to physically pull her down.

"Wait! I'll have one of the skeletons fetch them for you! It's too dangerous to—!"

But she was already too high, climbing with the ease of someone who had done this countless times before. Her body was light and nimble as she navigated natural footholds along the jagged stone, her feet digging into crevices too small for anyone else to make use of.

"Come back, I beg you!" Emmrich cried, his slender frame trembling as she ventured farther.

"I'll be all right!" she yelled, sensing his apprehension. "Don't worry!"

The way she gripped the edges and pulled herself up was a sharp contrast to how she had been moving on the ground—cool, measured, distant. Up here, she was intent, focused.

Emmrich swallowed, pulse racing at the sight of her dangling effortlessly from rock to rock. It wasn't just the act itself that caught him off guard—it was her. The determination, the care in her movements, the way she plucked the berries when she reached the bush, taking only what she needed without harming the plant. He had known she was skilled, but seeing her like this—so utterly in her element, so happy—made him yearn for something he'd long deemed impossible.

A few dozen berries later, and her pocket was full. Then, suddenly, she stilled, her eyes wandering as she faced the ground.

"Holly?" Emmrich asked, his back stiff.

"I, uh..." She frowned slightly, her voice oddly calm. "I'm not sure how to get down."

An awkward pause, and then Emmrich panicked. "S-stay there! I'll find a ladder!"

"No time for that. I'm just gonna go for it."

"'Go' for it?" His eyes widened. "Holly, no—!"

She let go.

For a few seconds, she slid down the crag, her footing precise—until the ledge crumbled and she tumbled, her body twisting midair. Emmrich barely had a chance to shudder before she was falling, spiralling away from the rock face.

"Maker's breath!"

Instinct took over. He darted forward, arms outstretched, and somehow he caught her. The impact sent them both crashing to the ground in a tangled heap, dirt clouding around them.

As it settled, a heavy silence followed. Then, a squeak of embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry!" Holly shrieked, rolling off of him. "That was... not my best landing."

Emmrich groaned, trying to catch his breath. "I should... hope not."

She couldn't tell if he was joking or angry, too overwhelmed by her guilt. Ignoring her own pain, she forced herself to her knees, her hands hovering before gently skimming over his arms, his shoulders, his chest—searching for any signs of injury.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her tone frantic. "Anything broken? Is your head spinning?"

"Spinning?" Emmrich smirked. "Yes, you could say that."

As he sat up, their eyes met.

Close. Too close.

Holly's breath hitched, her fingers twitching against his waistcoat. A faint pink crept across her cheeks, accentuating her beauty marks—and Emmrich stared, equally absorbed, his face flushed with something unspoken. Realising where her hands had been, that she had touched him all over, Holly swiftly pulled away, averting her gaze.

"You seem fine," she said, though not callously.

Emmrich smiled, pushing himself to his feet.

"Allow me," he said, offering his hand.

Holly hesitated only for a moment before accepting, his grip a contradiction—soft yet firm. Once she was steady, she patted her pocket, then sighed with relief.

"Good. The berries weren't crushed."

Emmrich chuckled. "Do you always throw yourself into danger for ingredients?"

"Not 'danger'," she huffed. "Just... risk. I get fixated." She shrugged, as if that explained everything. "It's a normal life for rogues. We have to do everything ourselves, and sometimes that means taking risks."

"Ah—I hadn't considered—" Emmrich's throat clenched. "Forgive me. I sometimes take my magic for granted. It must be difficult, having only yourself to rely on."

"It's not so bad. I usually get lucky."

"Like me breaking your fall?" he quipped.

Holly winced. "I really am sorry..."

Emmrich's smile lingered before he motioned for them to continue, guiding her away from the cliff. As Holly gazed up at him, she realised he wasn't the least bit annoyed. Amused, perhaps—maybe even captivated.

"Are you sure it's luck?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?"

He glanced down at her, thoughtfully. "Do you know what hollies represent?"

She blinked. "No, actually."

"They're thought to have magical properties," he gushed. "A symbol of eternal life."

Stepping in front of her, he took her hands in his, cradling them like a precious secret.

"So maybe luck has nothing to do with your resilience. Maybe it's who you are."

Holly's heart skipped a beat, her face heating for the third time that night.

"You give me too much credit," she tittered.

"I do mean it. A non-mage with connections to the Fade, able to see and speak with spirits, yet unable to cast a single spell? You, my dear, are nothing short of extraordinary."

"I..." Holly's blush deepened. "Y-you said that shed was in the east orchard, right? Let's go see those pots."

Quickly, she turned away, pretending to focus on the path ahead.

And for now, Emmrich simply let her.

-----

Holly stirred as the first light of dawn shimmered through the curtains, stretching beneath the sheets. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, basking in the fragrance of bergamot and sandalwood. The comfort of the blankets, the bed, the man beside her—this was home. A home she had never dared to dream of.

"Darling?" Emmrich's arms encircled her from behind, his voice rough with sleep. "You're up early."

She smiled, catching their reflection in the vanity across the room. "Mm. Just thinking."

"Oh?" His lips brushed against her neck as he whispered, "May I ask what about?"

She moaned as his mouth dipped lower, worshipping her bare skin with wet, tender kisses. Each touch sent a shiver up her spine, steeped in warmth and reverence.

"I had a dream," she purred. "About that day by the cliff."

Emmrich made a quiet sound of interest but didn't stop, his lips trailing to her shoulder—devouring, savouring, as though committing her to memory. She melted into his ministrations, but curiosity tugged at her thoughts.

"Emm?" she breathed.

He hummed in response.

"That day... were you trying to court me?"

Finally he stilled, his eyes fluttering open. Before he answered, his arms tightened around her, pulling her flush against his chest.

"No," he said—and he had never lied to her. "But I do confess, I fell for you that day."

"Technically, I fell," she smirked.

Emmrich chuckled, the sound smooth and rich as he shook his head. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Holly grinned, but before she could fire another witty remark, he pinned her against the pillows, his eyes burning with desire.

"Darling… I still can't believe this is real. That you want me. Oh, how I wish I'd met you years ago."

"I feel the same way," she teased, wrapping her legs around his hips. "But we're making up for lost time."

Emmrich's smile was fleeting before he leaned in, claiming her lips with a fierce, hungry kiss—one that spoke of all the emotions neither of them had the courage to voice aloud that day.