#number27

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Misery Loves Company

A/N – Okay, so for anyone who loves Stand-up comedy as much as I do, I highly recommend you watch Daniel Sloss’ tour, Dark. That’s his first tour, and it was where he coined the term Wanker-Anchor, which is used in this story.

Warnings – None.

Rating – M

TAG-LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy @midoria-kinnie @meesachan @fusehoundshipper @velvettenoctus @crescent-z @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @rosiescannibalwife @skylerbutterfly @hamthepan @latersgaters-steven @kryptidkova @sleepyhead-number27 @cherry-4200 @harcourtholmesii @alastorandluciferspouse @holyspacething @kedelman24 @becsmarvel @vash-yuu

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

“Whoa,” Charlie said upon seeing you.

She had seen your Demonic form before, but it was a rarity and it usually meant that you weren’t doing well mentally.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sucking in air through her teeth, her voice pitching high, indicating that she already knew the answer but didn’t want to point out the obvious in case it upset you further.

“I’m fine,” You answered shortly.

“Really? Because you uh, well,” Charlie twisted her hands back and forth, “You uh, you look a little- I mean, hey, I think you’re beautiful inside and out but when you’re like this it usually means- It’s normally-”

“You’re fucked up,” Vaggie finished for her, getting straight to the point.

“I’m fine,” You insisted, using the words everyone used when they were decidedly not fine. “Where’s Angel Dust?”

“In his room,” Vaggie explained.

“What happened? He was doing so well.”

Charlie’s eyes welled up with tears and she threw her arms around you, sobbing out an explanation, “It was my fault. I asked him about his contract, and he told me not to worry, but I did worry, and then I wanted to make sure he’d be okay when me and Vaggie go to visit Heaven, but he said he didn’t need a babysitter, and then I got Husk involved and Husk told me not to fuck with things I don’t understand, and then Valentino came-”

“Wait, Valentino came here?!” You pulled Charlie off you so you could look her in the eyes.

“Well, not exactly, but he sent his crew here and told Angel they had to film and I said no, and-”

You left Charlie and ran to Angel’s room. Both Charlie and Vaggie followed you as you pelted through the corridors. No wonder Angel had relapsed. That piece of shit Valentino had used Angel’s contract against him. As part of the deal they had made, Angel had to do any work Valentino demanded of him, and that fucking scumbag had dared to invade the one place where Angel felt safe.

Knowing Charlie, she would have pointed out that Valentino couldn’t use her property and would have to wait for Angel at the studio, but that wouldn’t matter. Valentino would play by the rules; it wasn’t really about filming at the Hotel, it was all a matter of proving that Angel belonged to him and that there was no safe place he could hide away.

Besides, even if Valentino hadn’t gotten his way at the Hotel, he would take it out on Angel the next time he was in the studio. It was a lose-lose situation, something that Hell was always too eager to provide.

When you got to Angel’s room, you paused to compose yourself. It wouldn’t help if you sounded too desperate or concerned; Angel didn’t respond well to that. It would make him blame himself for making you worry, and then he would spiral further.

You knocked on the door, “Hey Angel, it’s us. Can we come in please?”

“Go away,” Angel’s heavy accent came through the door, marking him more as Anthony than Angel Dust, though you didn’t say anything about that; there were very few people who knew his real name, and he didn’t like to be reminded of it.

For better or worse, he was Angel Dust; that was who he needed to be to survive.

You glanced at Charlie and Vaggie, then tilted your head, indicating that they should leave. Charlie hesitated until Vaggie placed a hand on her shoulder, then after an affirming nod from you, she let Vaggie lead her away.

“Come on Angel,” You said when they were gone. “It’s just me. Let me in.”

“Piss off.”

You sighed, then sat outside the door, and began talking. You didn’t have a grand speech planned, only what was on your mind, and if Angel wasn’t going to let you in, then it became a matter of letting him know that he wasn’t alone and that you wouldn’t abandon him, though you would respect his space.

“I get it. Valentino fucked with you. He love-bombed you, and that didn’t fucking work because you’re stronger than he is and you’re not going to fall for his shitty manipulation tactics. Now, he’s sending his goons here. It’s all just another one of his games, Angel. Don’t let him win.”

There was no response. You stayed quiet for a minute then were struck with a thought; misery loves company.

“Hey, I also kind of feel like shit today, you know? I kept thinking about Hell and… a lot of things. I told Charlie’s dad how I died. That was fucked up.”

Again, there was no response, but you thought you heard Angel shuffle closer to the door. Until that evening, nobody had heard anything about your mortal life, and now you were talking about it for the second time.

“I was murdered for a snuff film. I still have nightmares about it.”

There was a bluntness to your tone. Although it hurt to state the memory aloud again, albeit in less detail, you decided not to put too much thought into it. If your death could help someone, well, there had to be some good in bringing it up.

You stared at the peeling red wallpaper across from you, just so you had something to focus on. “I’m terrified that one day, I’m gonna walk down the street and see the guys that killed me. Like, what do you even do in that situation? Call them out? They’re in Hell, that’s punishment enough, right? Will they find it funny to see me again? Find new ways to hurt me?”

I honestly don’t know what I want in this scenario. I don’t want them to die, ‘cos then they’ll be here, but if they live, they’ll do this to other people. Kidnap them, sell them to the highest bidder, film it for the black market. I dunno… I’ve been here for a year, and I keep thinking about that.”

The door opened and you fell back, looking up at Angel’s concerned face.

“That’s the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard.”

He lifted you up, setting you right with two arms, while the other two brushed you off.

“So… this is you?” He asked, taking in your rag-doll appearance.

You laughed and imitated his voice, your Demonic abilities kicking in to mimic him perfectly, “I can be anything you want, bay-by.”

“That’s the hottest you’ve ever sounded.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You waved him off blasély. “Just let me in, okay? I can help.”

“So, uh, with the voice, and the-” Angel gestured at your new look, moving his hands in a circular motion, “Can you uh- Be other people?”

“I don’t know,” You said slowly, looking at your hands, “Never tried.”

You concentrated for a moment, trying to transform back to your original self. Usually, it was effortless. Yet, as you stared at the stitches that bound you together, you found it difficult to do more than revert to your original skin colour. Seeing that beneath the stitches was somehow worse, so you stopped trying to change, accepting that for now, you were a ragdoll.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Fuck it. I am what I am, and that’s all that I am.”

You caught sight of Angel’s precious pet pig. Scooping him up into your arms and cuddling him, you cooed in a baby voice, “Besides, you still love me, don’t you Fat Nuggets, yeeeees, precious baby.”

Sitting down on Angel’s bed, you looked up at your friend, deciding that it was better not to let the difficult conversation wait and fester.

“Soooo…” You scratched Fat Nuggets behind the ear, “Charlie told me that you relapsed. Wanna talk about it?”

Angel sighed and flopped back onto the bed so he was lying next to you, his legs planted on the floor.

He dragged two hands over his face, the other two lay despondently over his stomach.

“I- It was just such a shitty day, and Val sent those pricks here, not that they could fill any holes. Wrong kind of pricks, you know?” He half laughed, but it died when he realised the joke wasn’t funny in such a shitty situation.

Still, you smiled at him. When Angel was sad, he didn’t always need someone to sympathise with him. He needed to see that you weren’t going to change and start treating him differently. Sometimes that meant just listening, but other times it meant making the meanest jokes you could think of and laughing at how horrible everything was.

You were his Wanker-anchor, chaining him to reality by being a dick; Husk was the best at it, but seeing as he was nowhere to be found, Angel had you instead.

“Here,” Angel held up a small sealed bag, with his stash in it. So, he hadn’t relapsed after all. He’d just come very close.

“No thanks,” You joked, “I’m full from all the crack I had at breakfast.”

Angel got up and punched your arm, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one,” You took his stash, tucking it away in your pocket, then you stood up, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed, and you offered Angel your hand. “Come on.”

“What-”

“You need a distraction. So, I challenge you, Angel Dust, teach me how to dance.”

“You’re fucking kiddin’, right?”

You shook your head. “You can dance, I can’t and I’m bored. So, come on, give me some lessons. It’ll be good to get moving.”

“When you fail, can I call you a retard?”

“Fuck no. You can’t say retard anymore, what the fuck is wrong with you. You can insult the shit outta me, but keep your terms acceptable, okay?”

Honestly, Angel had thought he was up to date on what insults and trash talk were deemed acceptable, but evidently, he was wrong.

“Alright, I’ll teach you to dance, but you gotta keep me updated on all the latest slang, and what’s changed up there,” He glanced up as if he could see Earth.

“I’ve been dead a year, bud. A lot can change in that time,” You said, thinking about all the ways you were probably outdated.

Angel grabbed his phone and turned up the tunes, “Sounds like a coward’s excuse to get outta teaching.”

And so it was that you and Angel started to dance. It was nothing like his work, or when he was forced to pimp himself out in clubs as a form of ‘networking.’ Instead, it was stupid, fun, and uncoordinated with you as his partner. Christ, he had never danced with someone so terrible. You let him lead, and together, the two of you laughed at each other’s expense and forgot all about the shitty things that had happened that day.

Up in his Radio Station, Alastor grinned sinisterly. He had heard you quite clearly as he went about his business in the Hotel. You were murdered? How delightful. Victims were so easy to manipulate. Furthermore, you were a ragdoll. Oh, how wonderfully he could exploit that power.

All it would take was an invitation of friendship, a desperate situation, and an offer of assistance. When Alastor had sent Husk away on an errand earlier, he hadn’t imagined it would turn out so wonderfully.

Now, there was a new piece on the chessboard, and Alastor was determined to capture you as his pawn.

Your soul would be his.

[angelnumber27]

you're an angel. ...number27

so true bestie

[ann-divinepriestess]

3 new videos have been added to the channel. Number25 It's been a year now, why no change, Opportunity coming. Number26 The high priestess energy has been stalking you...FYI leave that relationship in the past. Number27 Your "Buddha" returns. The block is removed. No more games! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ https://youtube.com/@msanndivine Go to My linktree in my Instagram bio and click on "Ann The Oracle Divine" don't forget to Subscribe!: https://linktr.ee/Meta_Ann #divination #esoteric #mystic #psychic #spiritualguide #spiritual #tarot #collectiveread #metaphysical #tarotreader #oraclereader #lightworker #seer #clairaudience #divineguidance #soulmates #anndivine #youtube #prophecy #divinepartner #twinflames https://www.instagram.com/p/Cosri_Yu5d6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[groovesnjams]

gRººv333S,,,n,,,J▲M§ ▬|s|!|O|!| ❤︎|!|t|!|y|▬{{mmxxii}}  

..................number27 ....................of50

“I don’t feel my legs” by Phelimuncasi

DV:

Summoning rhythm from chaos, “I don’t feel my legs” marries overlapping vocal lines, sirens, and the most trunk-rattling bass I heard all year, a ferocious and powerful form of alchemy. Phelimuncasi make me want to move in ways I know my body can’t anymore (if it ever could!) This is wild music, stunningly precise in the way it’s layered with surprises and textures and focal points - like a four minute fractal, each moment and every piece reflecting the complexity and energy of the whole yet compelling in its own right. In our era of calculated routines transmitted by edited video and replicated by algorithm, “I don’t feel my legs” begs for a new dance, one that evolves each time you perform it, one that pulls your body in unfamiliar and unexpected ways, one that thrills you even as it makes you sweat. Phelimuncasi are making dance music for the future, and those of us on the dancefloor should rise to this occasion.

MG:

In what is honestly nightmare-bait for me, personally, “I don’t feel my legs” sounds like a song that rises above the fray of a packed house party. I don’t mean that it’s that rare song, bursting free from the stereo to unite the whole room -- I mean that it is the sound of a house party and the sound of a song. The backing vocals never subside, in fact, I feel like they multiply, growing ever more complex as the main vocal anchors the madness, its own steady beat. It should be impenetrable but instead it’s effervescent, a million different pieces bubbling up in a raucous whole.

[davorkuhelj]

Ferrari Museum Maranello - Ferrari F1 89 1989 #ferrari #ferrarimuseum #ferrarimuseummaranello #ferrarif189 #ferrariformula1 #number27 #ferrarif1 #1989 #racingcars #formula1 #singleseaters #classicracingcar #classicracing #ferrariracing #italy #italia #italiancars #italiancar #ferrarilife #ferrariheritage #ferrariclassic #classicferrari #cavallinorampante #museum #carmuseums #carmuseum #maranello #scuderiaferrari #carsofinstagram #carphotography (at Museo Ferrari, Maranello) https://www.instagram.com/p/CVPOds0oXNP/?utm_medium=tumblr

[almfineartandphotography]

#SundayThrowback: Happy “Sunday Throwback” everyone!! “The Eastwick Press” is back after a week hiatus!! Pick up your copy of the paper now or read the news online on “The Eastwick Press” website!! Last week in the Town of Berlin,NY, I attended both the Town of Berlin,NY 4th of July Parade & the Surprise Retiree Parade for Berlin CSD Principal, Dr. Cathie Allain, and 10 other staff members who retired this year from the school district. You can read about these features I covered on the front page of “The Eastwick Press”!! Enjoy!! Happy Sunday & stay cool and safe!! (Photos for events taken by photojournalist, Amy L. Modesti, 6/30/2020 & 7/4/2020) #TheEastwickPress, #ALMFineArtAndPhotography, #TaconicValleyGirlScouts, #BerlinNY, #BerlinCentralSchoolDistrict, #RensselaerCounty, #FourthofJulyParade, #TheRoaringTwenties, #TuesdayJune302020, #SaturdayJuly42020, #EventPhotography, #Photojournalism, #July102020, #Volume29, #Number27, #PageOne, #FrontPageNews, #PhotosByAmyModesti, #StoriesByRachelTuretskyAndAmyModesti , #July2020, #June2020, #RensselaerCountyNews, @eastwickpress (at Berlin, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCjhYSGpIz_/?igshid=1kxrqc3lmia14

[changoblanco]

Christian at The Whitney w/#jacksonpollock #number27 #HorizontalNotVertical @boldingchristian #artdate https://www.instagram.com/p/B4xtFVjhhMM/?igshid=9rny9n89lnxr

[28thquest-blog]

📆⚾ » OPENING DAY COUNTDOWN « ⚾📆 . #OpeningDay countdown continues today so #StartSpreadingTheNews because there's 27 days left till @Yankees begin their #28thQuest again!!! . 👤 GIANCARLO STANTON DH @giancarlo818 #Number27 . #Baseball #MLB #Yankees #ILoveThisGame #TGIF . designed by @big18ag https://www.instagram.com/p/Bud3psZA_pA/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1e5e2zhh78b1w

[jenraphael]

Doodle Number 27 #dailydoodle #doodleaday #number27 #dailydrawing #drawingaday2019 #art #abstractart #abstract #sharpieart #nyresolution2019 #popart #artpop #bandw #blackandwhite https://www.instagram.com/p/BtKddrqj7Ea/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=15l86hf21bhe7

[numerologiaevolutiva]

18 luglio 2018

Un nuovo giorno 9, a triplice potenza 9

Il nove di oggi deriva dal 27. 2 l’associazione e 7 il mentale, la vita spirituale, l’esigenza di perfezione.

Questo particolare da un valore aggiunto all’essenza del 9 e del 18 che abbiamo visto qui .

Oggi infatti si esplica esponenzialmente il messaggio della 18esima lettera dell’alfabeto ebraico la TZADE.

Nella Kabbalah la diciottesima lettera ci rimanda alle radici, alla scelta, all’evoluzione. il segno grafico richiama la biforcazione dei rami di una pianta - a indicare la c apacità di irradiare intorno a sé la luce e la conoscenza raggiunte. Capacità di fruttificare. Una Nun su cui è innestata una Yud: unione di Chokhmà e di Binà. -; ma il suo significato è anche quello di amo, parte, e anche il catturare gli animali.

"Il giusto (tzadik) è il fondamento del mondo" (Proverbi 10,25)

"Tzadik", normalmente tradotto con "un giusto", è allora anche uno che cattura i pesci, che tira fuori gli uomini dall'acqua, perché gli uomini hanno bisogno di essere tirati fuori dal tempo che li circonda. Il giusto, porta l'uomo sull'asciutto, cioè su un terreno adatto a lui. L'uomo più giusto per eccellenza sceglie infatti dei pescatori e ne fa pescatori di uomini. Invece, il faraone e l'Egitto lasciano annegare l'uomo nell'acqua; Mosè colui che è stato tratto dall'acqua, diventa il liberatore dal tempo in Egitto. 

TZADE, l'amo del pescatore, estrae dunque l'uomo dalla corrente del tempo, non appena PHE, la bocca, ha parlato, ci sono le parole, e sono state capite.

Osservate la carta di oggi... un fantastico ed evocativo re di coppe :  Il pesce è il simbolo dello spirito e della creatività e rappresenta l’unione dell’inconscio con il conscio. I pesci e gli animali marini gli girano intorno ma lui è fermo, al cento, perfettamente centrato nel suo essere.  Il Re di Coppe non reprime le sue emozioni e impulsi inconsci, ma ha imparato ad accettare e trattare con loro in modo maturo ed equilibrato. All’inconscio è stato permesso di affiorare ed è stato riconosciuto dal re, ma resta in suo potere e non ne viene sopraffatto. 

Egli è un maestro dei propri sentimenti, e tiene sotto controllo le sue emozioni. Non reprime quelle sensazioni e sentimenti, ma, al contrario, le unisce al suo intelletto.Il Re di Coppe indica che ci si sente emotivamente molto equilibrati e controllati. Che si ha una comprensione profonda dei vostri sentimenti e delle emozioni, e si è in grado di connettersi con questo, quando è necessario. 

E’ la  maturità emotiva che capta la profondità delle motivazioni umane e aiuta a penetrare il senso delle cose. La consapevolezza piena di sé, il non giudizio e l’accoglienza. 

Cosa dobbiamo capire oggi? Quale messaggio dobbiamo captare dall’inconscio per rinascere nuove pesce? 

A voi la parola :) 

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy @midoria-kinnie @meesachan @fusehoundshipper @velvettenoctus @crescent-z @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @rosiescannibalwife @skylerbutterfly @hamthepan @latersgaters-steven @kryptidkova @sleepyhead-number27 @cherry-4200 @harcourtholmesii @alastorandluciferspouse @holyspacething @kedelman24 @becsmarvel @vash-yuu @k-n0-x @radio-leigh @tamaki-simp @wolfdaddyalphasworld @http-dilflvr @cosmic-lavender

MALE VERSION HERE

GN / NB VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[iannidadog]

Bleibtreustr. Berlin #number27#bleibtreustrasse #berlin #berlinstagram #berlindubistsowunderbar #streetphotography#shadowporn fujifilm #fujifeed #fujifilm_street #fujifilmxseries #fromstreetswithlove #friendsinperson #capturestreets #challengerstreets #intercollective #wearethestreet #ourstreets #lensculturestreets #lensculture #life_is_street #peperuga (at Berlin, Germany)

[midnightdownpour]

Soooooo my coworkers are amazing, but especially @jackiedenomme who had this Steve Perry cake made for me. Despite not being able to handle more than two people looking at me at once without shaking like a leaf, this was incredibly thoughtful and reminded me why I adore my job so much. Thanks for making 27 so sweet (and also for the whiskey sours to help balance out the anxiety. You know me so well) 💜💜💜💜💜 . . . . . #journey #steveperry #number27

[indigolines]

Here's a drawing from memory/imagination of my bushwalk to Lesmurdie Falls with friends yesterday. It was such an adventure. I saw the Perth Hills for the first time, a pair of Bobtail lizards, purple ants rushing around, a curly orange plant that gave us sweet nectar, black boy trees and wax on a baby leaf that peels away like PVA glue! . #inktober #inktober2017 #number27 #day27 #sketchbook #sketchblog #adventure #perthadventures #bushwalk #spring #lesmurdefalls #perthhills #cityview #waterfalls #bobtail #purpleants #wanderlust #blackboytrees (at Lesmurdie Falls)

[bernadette888]

Number 27 has always followed me everywhere, it's been a bit spooky but now that I know what it stands for I feel better. Bring on 27. #number27 #27 #perthstagram #perthisok #perthigers #numbers

[sketchmonger]

#inktober number27! Yellow queen...👑 #inktober2022 #illustration #conceptart #artistoninstagram #art #sketch https://www.instagram.com/p/CkPe0g3OeAY/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=