#the Hell’s paradise content is giving me LIFE!

[giggly-squiggily]

please picture 17-18-something years old eizen and jikka make out and in stumbles little sagiri who's on the hunt for fairies or smth and they have to be like "oh we were... training..." while also putting their clothes back together properly and later they're having food with everyone and sagiri (who spent the entire afternoon trying to make sense of what happened) tugs on shion's sleeve and goes "is there a training method where you have to put your mouth on someone else's?", cue eizen choking on his noodles and jikka scooping her up like "okay sagirin time for bed"

HANZNWNNXNNANXNSNNDNSND 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 HELP- oh my god Sagiri being so innocent about it like “But isn’t there? Do I need to learn it?” Cue both Shion and Eizen choking on their noodles while Jikka’s fighting God not to start laughing hysterically and dropping this poor naive child as he gives her a rough explanation on what CPR is cause it’s the only thing he can think of at that given moment.

I bet you later he comes back to Eizen who’s pissed being all “I hate you. I told you we shouldn’t have done it there!”

And Jikka’s just pulling him closer with that lazy smile of his being all “It’s fine, I fixed it. I told her we were doing CPR….wanna train for it right now?”

Cue Jikka sleeping on the porch of their shared room with a thin blanket and no pillow while it’s raining 💀

(I cried laughing reading this- thank you for sharing, Rey! 💖💖💖)

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

[razzle-n-dazzle]

- hi ! 💌,,

ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!

I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.

Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).

AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!

ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble

‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!

ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.

ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .

ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!

ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!

ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.

ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.

ᯓ "Adam?!"

ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"

ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.

ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"

ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"

ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!

ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.

ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.

ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.

ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.

ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"

Home | Masterlist tag list | @lily-ann-b

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 15

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Well,” Lloyd stops mid step and startles you as he spins on his heel, “you’re being quiet.” 

You sign thank you and he squints. You gesture apologetically and drop your hands, pressing your lips until they hurt. He takes a breath and swallows his agitation. 

“You can have a shower. I won’t say you earned it but it will give me some peace and quiet,” he sniffs. 

What would truly give him peace and quiet would be to let you go. The solution is right there in front of him. You can’t figure why he won’t see it. Why is being so stubborn? For you? You’re annoying. Heck, you annoy yourself. 

“You know, even when you don’t say a fucking word, I swear I can hear every dumb thought behind those eyes,” he sneers and grabs your arms, “come on. Time to clean my stink off of you.” 

He drags you into a large bedroom and you can’t help the gasp of awe that rushes from your chest. Wow. This place really is nice. You could see it on HGTV. Hell, you think it’s even too fancy for that. Once more, you have to wonder what he does to make all that dough. He makes you think of a Batman villain and yet even you know that’s not real.  

Hmmmm, he does look like he could be a trust fund kid. Well, kid would be long ago, wouldn’t it? He urges you across the room and shove you into the bathroom built into the other side. 

“How is it that you’re not saying a damn word and I’m still fed up?” He puffs. 

You face him and blink, arms crossed around the blanket over your chest. He sighs and yanks it from your grasp. You teeter on your feet as he growls. 

“Shower,” he points behind you. 

Your hand tingles. You want to salute him so bad. Instead, you try to see the positive. A shower! Well, you could definitely use one of those.  

You turn and strut over to the glass door of the shower. You open it up and step inside. You’re overly aware of his looming presence. He probably thinks you’ll flood the place. Well, you can handle a shower. You twist the faucet on and yipe as you’re sprayed with cold water. You bite down on your voice and adjust the temperature. 

You ease into the downpour and close your eyes. That’s nice. You lean your head back and bask in the clouding steam. You know what, this isn’t too bad. Aside from him. It would be paradise otherwise. 

You turn and let the water soak your back. You push your hands over your face and flick away the water. A gust of cool air makes you shiver and you let out a squeak of surprise.  

Lloyd steps in through the door and crowds you back so the showerhead splashes down your face again. 

“Oh,” you catch the air in your cheeks, puffing them out guiltily. 

“Ah!” He holds his finger to his lips in warning. 

Your eyes round as the flick up and down. He’s built well. I mean, you’re not surprised. You got a good look, and taste, of him yesterday, but the whole picture isn’t too bad. Minus that mustache. You almost want to lick your finger and rub it off his lip. 

“Turn around,” he demands. 

You obey before you can break your vow of silence. You hang your head and put your back to him. He reaches past you and grabs a puffy pink scrubby. There’s another hung nearby; black and silicone. He clicks a bottle and you hear the squirt of soap. He presses the scrubbie to your back and you throw your arm out to keep yourself from slipping. 

He scours you with the soap, lathering it over your skin wordlessly. It might be affectionate, even romantic, but he’s so rough it makes you squirm. He gets down your ass and pinches you. Before you can yelp, he tuts. 

“Not a word,” he reminds you. 

You nearly tip at the force behind his tending and you find it hard to let out an ow or ouch. He grabs your shoulder and spins you to face him. Your feet slide and you crash into him, grabbing onto his sides to push himself straight. You can’t help but get a good feel of the muscle. 

Your eyes trail down and you don’t miss the very obvious erection bobbing up by his stomach. You give a sheepish grin and look him in the face. His forehead lines and his wordlessly challenges you to say anything. Instead, you stretch out your arms and posture so that he can continue cleaning you. He growls. 

He grabs your wrist and roughly drags the scrubbie down from your shoulder. He manhandles you, crossing to your other arm and wiping it down. He drags along your collarbone and lingers around chest, overly attentive as he tickles and stops to make your tits bounce. You let out a surprised squeak as he does. 

“Fuck,” he groans as if he’s in pain, “tell me why you make me so fucking hard.” 

You arch a brow and part your lips and he swiftly hushes you, the water splashing against your back and leaking down your front. You look down at yourself and back up. You’re not bad. You wouldn’t sell yourself short but you can’t really understand him or what he wants. If you were to measure his words and actions, he should absolutely hate you. 

“Come here,” he grabs the back of your neck and urges you forward as he flings the scrubbie, “you little fucking...” he searches your face as he tilts your head and his glare bores into you. His hard length presses against your stomach and his nostrils flare. 

He pushes you back, walking with you until you’re against the wall. You can only let him as the slippery tile and your shock have you in a precarious position. He moves his hand around the front of your neck and squeezes behind your jaw until you whimper. He bends slightly and reaches you feel along your thigh, lifting your knee to hook around him. 

“Think you can keep quiet, sweet lips?” He smirks. 

[hells-wasabii]

Lilith x f!reader? I would love to see how some writers see her lmao

A/N: This one i really didn't know how to approach. We really know next to nothing about Lilith as a character, her personality remains a mystery. That being said, I did what i could, I decided to go with a half and half for this one as well. There also might be an unfinished sentence hiding in here somewhere

Character: Lilith

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Lilith x fem!reader, Angst)

Lilith as a whole is an interesting character. She is graceful and rebellious. She’s the first woman and the former(?) queen of hell. She is a prideful creature and has every right to be. But that doesn't mean that she'll want to be above you, she craves an equal, someone that she can spend her time in paradise with. Someone she can count on to be by her side.

Lilith is free-spirited to a fault, a dreamer as Charlie put it, and that will definitely reflect in the relationship. She has ideas for what she wants in life, and she'll want you right there with her every step of the way. You might be considered 'the mistress of the queen of hell' but you're still her partner nonetheless.

But she also has a lot going on. Heavy, plot stuff. Just because she loves you that doesn’t mean that you have the go-ahead to get in her way. Whatever her goals may be, whether it's to put a stop to Charlie’s hotel or do whatever it takes to remain in heaven. You’re either a part of them, or you're not. It’s your decision but you’d best make it quickly when she presents it to you. She’s very no-nonsense when it comes to her important business. She won’t take lightly to you getting in the way.

The moment your feet met the sand, you could feel a wave of calm wash over you. Heaven, especially its beaches, tended to have that effect on souls. This was one of your favorite places in heaven after all. How could it not be? Gorgeous beaches as far as the eye can see, and the sky stuck in what is essentially an eternal sunset. Which, while unnatural, was lovely nonetheless. But the beach wasn’t why you had come, not this time at least. You lifted your gaze giving your wings a flutter to shake off any sand before folding them neatly. No, this time you had an important matter to attend to.

“Darling, I know you’re there.” Lilith always had a knack for knowing when you came to visit, from the moment you even set off towards her little portion of heaven she always seemed to be expecting you. “Come, join me.” She gestured at the chair beside her without looking back. That was a recent addition to her usual beach spot, you noted.

You remembered when you had first stumbled across this beach, it was absolutely breathtaking. Initially, you had been surprised by the beach’s lack of occupancy. However, as you walked along the shoreline with no destination in mind, you would come to find out why exactly that was.

It was only natural that a place of that caliber was occupied by the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. The very first woman, Lilith. She had been welcoming, much to your surprise, offering conversation and company on that lonely shore. Even extending something of an open invitation when you left, an invitation that you would accept time and time again.

You were sure that you were never meant to meet her, to even know of her presence in heaven. It certainly seemed like something that a human soul wasn’t meant to be aware of.

And yet here you were, chin-deep in a romantic entanglement with the Queen of Hell herself.

You knew better than to beat around the bush. Lilith always did prefer keeping things to the point when it came to things of importance. She didn’t particularly care for games of that fashion. So you  “Are you really going back to hell?”  You knew it wasn’t something she wanted to do, she had been content in just leaving well enough alone, but that angel, Lute, had forced her hand. And in turn, forced yours as well.

Your lover looked back at you, lowering her glasses to look at you directly. “Is that a problem, dear?” 

Yes, a very big problem at that, never mind that you’re an angel, would heaven even allow you to go down to hell? Would they even know? This was dangerous and wrong, and… and you knew that you would do it anyway, didn't you? Every fiber of your being was screaming how wrong this was, but you were the mistress to the queen of hell. You were sure you could handle it, so long as you were by her side. And so you smiled, you would happily follow this woman to hell and back. Literally in this case. “Of course not, Lilith.”

This brought a small smile, one that you couldn’t quite decipher, to the queen of hell’s lips as you took your place in the chair next to her.

“Good, because you’ll be coming with me.”

Everything seemed to freeze in place at the revelation. What have you gotten yourself into this time?

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Chapter Eighteen|

So much for going to the person Y/n trusted most. She knew well what the consequences for defying Heaven would be. She did not need Michael to remind her. Moreso, she did not need to be reminded that she and Lucifer would never be together.

Not unless she leaves.

But could she? In theory, yes. She could make a portal and go down to Hell. But staying there? Michael would find out, then God would find out. And then...

It seemed to be a failure no matter how Y/n looked at it. But then she remembered what Lucifer said. How he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and by his side. And while Lucifer was powerful beyond all comprehension. Michael was near perfectly matched his power.

And if God were to get involved...

It would not end well for anyone.

Y/n knew this. And therefore, her plan was a failure. She did not need to look to the future to see that. And yet, her yearning to be with Lucifer overshadowed any hesitancy she had, thought it was ever present within her.

So in the dead of night, Y/n flew to the outskirts of Heaven and opened the portal to Hell. But not before giving one last look at the paradise she once called home.

Heaven's city lights filled the night sky with it's brightness. It was a beautiful sight, no matter the time of day. Within the city, would be all of her friends who she would be leaving behind. She would miss Michael most of all, he was with her even in the darkest moments of her life.

And that's why she could not leave without saying goodbye. Of course, she did this through a letter. For a moment, she thought it might be a foolish thing to do. However, Michael already knew of her plans. He would figure out where she was eventually. So it didn't matter if she left that letter or not.

Y/n could only hope, that he would understand.

With one more look, she turned back to the portal and entered through to the other side.

Once through, Y/n looked up at the hotel before her with a small smile. Her eyes trailed up further to the apple shaped tower, where Lucifer resided. She unfolds her wings and flies to the balcony, before gently tapping at the glass.

When there was no answer, she knocked a but louder. This seemed to have done the trick, as light filled the inside of the tower. Then, the curtains that blocked Y/n's view opened, revealing Lucifer. His hair was messy and he was wearing a pair of silly, but admittedly cute, duck patterned pajamas.

Once his tired mind caught up with him, his eyes widened as he spoke with a gasp. "Y/n!?" His voice was slightly muffled by the glass, causing Y/n to chuckle. She raised her hand and gave a small wave.

Lucifer quickly opened the window, and the two caught each other's eyes. "You really came back?" Lucifer murmurs. Y/n nods. "I couldn't stay away from you. Not for one moment longer." She spoke softly.

Lucifer's mouth turned up into a grin, he held his hand out for her to take. Y/n gladly did so, and she was pulled inside of the tower. She was brushed against Lucifer's chest, as the two embraced. Y/n closed her eyes and let out a breath of content.

"I'm...breaking a lot of rules, doing this." She said quietly. "They'll find out, and when they do-"

"When they do, I will take care of it." Lucifer adds. His hand caressed her hair gently. "I promised you, they will have to go through me first, if they wish to take you back."

Y/n opened her eyes and pulled back to face him. "I believe that won't end well. In fact, I know it won't. And that's without my future vision to tell me. I just...I don't want to be the cause of a conflict. And I know, my actions will indeed bring conflict of some kind. But..."

Y/n placed her hand at Lucifer's cheek, he leaned into her touch. "I just can't keep myself away from you."

"Neither can I." Lucifer tells her. "If there were any way I could enter Heaven, I would have brought you back here myself. All I could do was wait, and hope I'd see you again somehow. But now." Lucifer brings her back into a hug.

"Now I don't have to wait anymore. You're here."

"Yes." Y/n holds onto him tight. "I'm here, with you."

Y/n was unable to sleep that night, fearing that any moment, she would be forced to return to Heaven. Though, the night went on, and day soon came.

And then the next day.

And the next.

And the next day after that.

It was...baffling, to say the least. Why hasn't anyone been sent to return her to Heaven? Surely, they've noticed her missing. Surely Michael had seen the letter she left, and informed God of her actions.

And yet, there was nothing.

Perhaps, God had planned out what to do after she left. Perhaps there was no need for her gift anymore.

Perhaps there was no need...for her.

As much as Y/n was happy to be here with Lucifer, that alone, made her heart ache. There was no need for her anymore. If that were the case...

Y/n tried to ignore it, tried to settle into her new life. Charlie, for one, was thrilled to have her stay. She knew how happy Y/n and Lucifer made each other, and she got along with Y/n rather well.

Y/n got use to everyone else in the hotel as well, even Alastor, as unsettled as he made her feel at times. Though, he seemed to have known better than to harm her, and risk bringing upon the wrath of the princess and king of hell as a result. So, he kept his threats and scares to himself.

Y/n and Vaggie got along well too. Seeing that Vaggie was an angel herself, made Y/n feel a little less out of place.

Angel Dust was one of Y/n's favorite hotel residents. He was easy to talk to, and surpassingly kind hearted. He was a girl's girl, and the best one there was honestly.

Husk was another one that Y/n liked. After getting through his harsh exterior, Husk was a decent man to have a conversation or two with.

Niffty was....Niffty. Y/n didn't mind her, but she did still get a unhinged and murderous vibe from her. Though, the little cyclopes was more interesting in hunting bugs, much to Y/n's relief.

And though Cherri wasn't officially apart of the hotel, she was still one that Y/n liked. Especially since she was so caring of Angel.

Y/n soon understood why Sir. Pentious loved these guys so much. The thought of him made Y/n hopeful for each and every one of them. They could all have the chance he had, to live a better after life.

Y/n also hoped that the council would keep their word, and Sir. Pentious would be taken care of until the Lute situation was under control.

Other than that, Y/n looked forward to each day she got to spend with the find people of the hotel.

"Y/n!"

Speaking of.

"Yes, Charlie?" Y/n asks, looking up from her drink that Husk had so kindly made for her. "Do you have anything planned for this evening?" Asked Charlie with a grin.

"Well, your father and I had planned on visiting Gluttony. He wanted me to meet Beelzebub." Y/n answered, thinking about what the Gluttony ring was like.

"Ohh." Charlie said. "You'll love it there! There's always a party of some kind, going on down there."

"Is that right? I didn't figure you father as the party type." Y/n chuckles. Charlie gives a little laugh as well. "Not that I can remember." She says. "But maybe he wants to show off."

"Show off?" Y/n asks. Charlie laughs it off before continuing. "Well, the reason I ask, is because I want to take you out on a little shopping day! I know my dad magic-made you some new clothes, but I was hoping we could hang out and do our own shopping spree."

Y/n looked down at her dress she wore, it was one of the many Lucifer had given her since she came back. It was a simple white dress that hung off the shoulders, and reached down to her calves. And while Y/n immensely appreciated Lucifer's gifts, she had to admit, seeing what the shops of Hell had to offer intrigued her.

"Well, I'm still free for the next couple of hours, if you wanted to go now?" Charlie beamed at Y/n's words. "Of course! Just let tell Vaggie and I'll meet you outside!" She rushed off in a hurry, Y/n smiled at her enthusiasm before walking out of the hotel lobby.

Y/n stepped outside and took a look around, she was started to get use to the look of things here. Though, Hell's residents was still a tough spot.

Just yesterday, some demon tried to attack her because he noticed she was an angel. Worst part is, he didn't attack because he felt threatened, he attacked, because he wanted to keep her wings as a trophy along with some other...unsavory things...

Luckily, Lucifer wasn't too far and swiftly took care of that demon.

Since then, Y/n decided it would be best if she dressed less angel-like. She even began to hide her wings and halo, thanks to Lucifer's help.

Charlie opens the hotel doors and joins your side. "Is Vaggie not joining us?" Asked Y/n, slightly confused. "Not today." Answered Charlie. "It's just you and me, if that's ok?" Y/n nods with a smile. "Sure, that's fine."

And so, the two made their way to the nearest mall.

The mall was actually a lot better than Y/n expected it to be. The shops were pretty decent and had some good looking clothes. Y/n found more than a few she liked. The only problem was some of the stores employees thought a couple of nice faces, like Charlie and Y/n's, would be easy to fool. So they charged more than what the price was originally.

One was particularly aggressive and Y/n didn't like the confrontation that was starting to build from it. So, she figured she just go shopping elsewhere. But Charlie had other plans in mind.

She was polite and civil with the demon, but of course, they weren't having it and even had the nerve to jack the price up higher. That's when Charlie became...less nice.

She didn't need to remind the foolish demon just who she was, the simple glare of her demonic eyes was plenty to put that demon right back in their place. The fool even sold them the clothes for even less than originally priced.

Charlie calmed herself down and paid the demon with a sweet smile before taking Y/n by the hand and walking out.

"That was very impressive, Charlie." Y/n giggles. "I could have sworn they were about to cry." Charlie laughs as well. "I don't like using the whole "royalty leverage" when it comes to tiny things like that. But my dad taught me to never take shit from demons, and I stand by that."

"Well, he's taught you right." Y/n smiles. "Oh, speaking of. Do you know what time it is?" Charlie looks at her phone. "Almost five." She answers.

"Gosh, we've been out for a while!" Y/n gasps. "I almost forgot I had to meet with your father soon!" She and Charlie step outside of the mall. "Don't worry." Said Charlie. "I'll get you back there on time." She dials a number on her phone.

"Hello. Yes, we're outside now." Charlie speaks into the phone. "Mhm, thank you so much!"

Within less than a minute, a fancy limousine rolled up next to them. The driver side window rolled down, revealing a well dressed Hellhound. "Miss Morningstar." He says with a bow of his head.

"Thanks again Marty." Charlie says before opening the passenger door for Y/n.

Y/n hops in and scoots over to make room for Charlie as well. Once Charlie joins her, the limo drives off, presumably back to the hotel. "Now, you just leave the bags to me and Marty. Here you said you liked the dress in this one, right?" Charlie hands Y/n a bag as she continues to speak. "You go right to my dad and have a great time, alright?"

"Thank you Charlie, and thank you for taking me out today. I had a lot of fun." Y/n says with a warm smile. "Anytime." Charlie smiles as well.

Soon enough, the limo parked right outside of the hotel. Marty stepped out to help Charlie carry the bags inside, while Y/n hurried to get dressed. Once she was finished, she quickly made her way to Lucifer's tower and knocked on his door.

"Y/n, there you are." Lucifer said after he opened the door. He takes a closer look at her outfit. "You look lovely." Y/n gave him an apologetic look. "Aw, thank you. And I'm sorry for being late. I was at the mall with Charlie and we lost track of time."

Lucifer's grin grew at her words. "Did you two have a good time?" He asks. Y/n nods. "A very good time. So, are you ready to go now?"

"Yep!" Lucifer snaps his fingers and a portal. "My lady." Lucifer offers his arm with a teasing look. Y/n rolls her eyes playfully. "My lord." She says as she joins his side and steps through the portal.

Y/n looked around, confused. Lucifer had seemed to have portal them inside of a living room. A very large, and expensive looking living room. There was a hint of a honey smell in the air. "Lucifer? Where are we?" Y/n asked.

Lucifer walks ahead of her to one of the many large windows of the room, and motioned for her to follow. Y/n walked over and looked out. There were hundreds of Hellhounds and even a few imps outside, all appearing to be having a great time. Y/n could faintly hear the bumping of music from outside. Was there a party going on somewhere?

"Oh, is this Gluttony?" Y/n turns to Lucifer, who nods his head. "Yep. I would have teleported us outside but...you know, King of Hell." Lucifer points to himself. "It'd be a little weird for me to just make an appearance out of nowhere. I've locked myself up in my home for several years now so uh....yeah."

"I see." Y/n says, turning her attention back to the scenery. "Do you think they would swarm you? I've noticed being royalty is a lot similar to being celebrities down here."

"That, and potential assassins who would try and kill me." Said Lucifer bluntly. "It's happened a few times, believe it or not." Y/n gives him a concerned look. "Really?"

"Yeah but, being the king and ex-angel comes with it's perks. The demons down here can't do much to harm me. Anyhow.” Lucifer waved his hand. “Where is she? She’s later than we are.”

“She?” Just as Y/n spoke, there was a loud noise coming from the front door. She and Lucifer looked over to see a tall Hellhound, entering the room. Her multicolored hair moved around like the goop in a lava lamp. Her tiny wings fluttered as she saw Lucifer.

“Luci! Baby! It’s been a fucking hot minute since you showed your short ass around here! What the fuck? Where have you been?” She flies over to him, arms crossed.

Lucifer laughs weakly. “Yeah, been busy with uh…things.”

“Mhm.” The Hellhound smirks. “You still playing around with those toy ducks?” The demon’s eyes landed on Y/n. “Hey, is this your new lady friend?”

Y/n blushed slightly. “U-Uh…um I….” She stammered, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully Lucifer took the lead. “This is Y/n, yes. And Y/n.” Lucifer takes her hand. “This, is Beelzebub.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. The Beelzebub? The sin of Gluttony.

“Nice to meetcha.” Beelzebub says, outstretching one of her four arms. Y/n took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Miss reads the future, all the way down here in Hell? They kick your ass out too?” Asked Beelzebub. “Oh, no. I actually…ran away.” Y/n says awkwardly. “It’s a long story.”

Beelzebub shrugs. “Eh, you don’t gotta explain yourself. Besides, it’s way better down here! Heaven is so fucking stuck up. Down here? You can do whatever the fuck you want! And it’s all thanks to this little shit.” She playfully elbows Lucifer.

Y/n couldn't help but smile. It's no wonder she was so comfortable and close Lucifer. The sins all fell shortly after Lucifer did. They've all been in Hell just as long as he has been.

"Now!" Beelzebub began. "While we get to know more about each other, how about a drink?" She snaps her fingers and two cocktails appeared out of thin air. "You drink?" She asks, Y/n.

"Occasionally." She answered.

"Good thing I made these light, then." Beelzebub chuckled. "I don't think you're quiet ready for the hard stuff. Hell, Lucifer can barely handle it."

"Hey now." Lucifer raises an eyebrow. "I'll have you know, I've built up quiet the tolerance over the years." Beelzebub raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How about you put your money where your mouth is?" Lucifer chuckled. "Another time" He wasn't about to get sloppy drunk in front of Y/n, he'd die of embarrassment.

So instead, Lucifer, Y/n and Beelzebub all had a nice evening of drinking and hanging out. Y/n quickly understood why Lucifer liked Beelzebub so much. She was very down to earth and caring, only wanting the people around her to have a nice time during their afterlife.

Eventually it came time for Lucifer and Y/n to head back to the hotel. They both wished Beelzebub goodbye, and promising to visit again soon, before portaling back.

"She was nice." Y/n said, a light yawn escaping her. "Are all the sins that friendly?" Lucifer lets out a short laugh. "Nope. But Asmodeus and Belphegor aren't that bad. Mammon's the absolute worst of them though. He's a great source for headaches."

"Is that so?" Y/n asks. "Motherfucker tried to steal my amusement park idea." Lucifer huffed. "He really thinks replacing, "Lulu World" with, "Lulu Land" makes it completely original! Asshole."

"You have an amusement park? Why am I just now hearing about this? What's it like?"

"Oh just your standard amusement park, only...a thousand times better." Lucifer boasted. "I can take you there soon, if you're interested."

"Of course, I'm curious to see what your take on amusement parks are like." Y/n tells him before another yawn leaves her. "You seem tired, it's not that late. Did you sleep at all last night?" Asked Lucifer, slightly concerned.

"Oh uh, well...Not really." Y/n admits. "It's just...Ever since I got here I've been so worried. Worried that at any moment, I'll be forced to return to Heaven." Lucifer cups her face gently. "They won't take you back." He says firmly. "They haven't attempted to so far."

"But don't you find that strange?" Y/n asks. "Why haven't they come looking for me?"

"Perhaps they know better." Lucifer starts. "They'll be entering my domain, first of all. And I am not going to give you up without a fight, and it seems they know that."

Y/n wished it didn't have to come down to that. To a fight. If that happens, someone could be hurt or killed. She didn't want that for Lucifer, or Michael, or anyone involved.

There has to be some way to fix this...

"Y/n." Lucifer snaps her out of her thoughts. "Would you like to stay here with me tonight? I know you have your own room but, maybe I can take your mind off of things for a while? If you don't sleep, I won't sleep."

"I don't want to intrude." Y/n murmurs. "Nonsense." Lucifer tells her. "I want you to stay." A small smile forms on Y/n's face. "Alright." She says softly. "But on one condition."

"Yes?" Lucifer asks.

"Tell me more about Lulu World."

Tags-

@bloody-delusion-expert  @ruyaas-world

@simbalioness @vififofum

@annybah

@alientee

@yourmom132

@voxrei

@hotbabe1999

@yui-onnero

@divineknightmare

@just-a-simpe

@animecrazy76

[delicateflowerss]

Don't Worry, Darling: One

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, eventual NON-CON, dark!Rafe, implied violence, blood, drug use, mentions of pregnancy, kook!reader, non-canon ages

This is on the short side, and more of an introduction to my new series. Next chapter will have more action, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“How did you manage to not get knocked up?” Caroline asks through an amused smile. “I thought that would be the first thing Rafe would do on your honeymoon. Especially in a place like The Bahamas,” she adds.

Laughter follows from everyone including you.

“Maybe he did. She just doesn’t know it yet,” Audrey chimes in.

The same level of laughter erupts, but your smile falters a little.

“Rafe and I are waiting,” you explain.

“Why? You two seem so happy. And look at this place,” Caroline motions to the backyard of the house you share with Rafe, complete with a blue, sparkling pool and freshly mowed grass. “You’ve got it made.”

You shake your head, a smile still on your face. “I just got a new client, and I’m doing really well right now. There’s no need for us to rush.”

“Don’t you just work from home? You can have a baby and be a book editor,” Cassie points out, taking a sip of her Mai Tai.

“When you all have babies, then you can criticize me. But until then, I don’t want to hear it.” You try to keep your tone lighthearted. But there’s an edge to your voice, their words starting to bother you.

“We’re just playing around.” Caroline looks around, earning nods from your other friends. She smiles at you and sighs, “I’m excited for you. I mean, who knew someone could tame Rafe Cameron?”

“He’s come a long way. I think,” you pause thinking about the man you’ve married. “He really is the perfect husband.” Your eyes twinkle, a content smile tracing your lips.

“You know, I was a little worried when I heard you were getting married,” Kelce begins, picking up the glass he was pouring brown liquid into. “I thought there goes the Rafe Cameron I’ve always known, always doing whatever the fuck he wants, now having to answer to his wife.”

He walks over to Rafe, slapping him on the shoulder. “But I see I was wrong,” Kelce laughs.

“Nothing’s changing here,” Rafe says before bending down to snort the white lines off his desk through a rolled up hundred-dollar bill.

“So, Y/N’s okay with all this?” Topper asks, watching Rafe wipe the residue off his nose.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He breaks out into a grin. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Topper just nods, his lips tight together.

Rafe’s face falls at the look Topper gives him. “It’s only for special occasions. Alright, Top? You don’t have to get all…”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” he interrupts. “This is just new to me.”

“What is?”

“You and responsibility.”

Rafe scoffs, looking away from him.

Before anything else is said, Kelce intervenes, “I was talking to Chase yesterday. Said he thinks he’s getting that promotion.”

“He always thinks that,” Rafe mutters.

“Well… He said he knows for sure this time. I guess Ward must have told him.”

At that, Rafe turns to look at Kelce, furrowing his brow.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

Kelce shrugs, “that’s what he said.”

He moves his glare to the floor, lips parting. “Huh.” A million different emotions pass through his eyes as he thinks for a moment. “So, Chase is getting promoted before I do?”

There’s a heaviness in his voice, like he’s finally admitting it to himself. Any fun carelessness in the room has disappeared, leaving a thick tension that’s anything but.

Kelce opens his mouth, but closes it right away, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sure your promotion is coming, Rafe. I mean, your dad owns the company,” Topper assures.

The smile on his face is wiped away when Rafe points his glare to him.

“Yeah. And your grandfather helped you get that job at that law firm,” Rafe fires back.

“I didn’t mean it like that. If you’re so upset, just talk to Ward.”

Rafe chuckles, a lack of humor evident. He taps his finger against the wood of his desk.

“No, you’re right. I’ll just talk to him.”

The hot, sticky air wraps around you as you fix the hat on your head, helping to block out the sun. You finish setting the soil around your freshly planted roses, the diamond on your ring glistening in the bright sunshine. You wish you could’ve finished gardening before the housewarming party last night, but better late than never.

A car door slamming behind you, startles you, forcing you to look at the street. You quickly stand up at the somewhat familiar face, brushing the dirt off your dress.

He doesn’t notice you until he’s gotten his equipment from his truck. You give him a slight wave, and you don’t miss the surprise that washes over his face.

“Oh. Didn’t realize this was your house.”

As much as JJ tries to hide it, his apprehension is apparent.

“We just moved in.” Your tone is so much brighter than his.

“Right.” He nervously looks around, like he’s searching for someone. He sighs, “I guess I should’ve read the names on my client list a little more carefully, Mrs. Cameron.”

Your lips part in realization. “Oh, Rafe’s not here. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

His silence confirms your suspicions.

“And he’s pretty much over all that stupid Kook vs. Pogue stuff.”

“Is he?” Doubt laces his voice.

You never understood why Rafe was so set on terrorizing his sister and her friends. But thankfully, he’s grown out of it.

“I think he can handle you being here once a week,” you assure.

“I don’t know about that.” JJ scratches the back of his head.

“He doesn’t even have to know.” That catches JJ’s attention, his gaze settled on you. “You’ll only be here while he’s at work. All he knows is he’s paying the pool company. I’d hate to see you lose out on a job because of Rafe,” you finish with a reassuring smile.

Maybe this is your way of righting all of Rafe’s wrongs.

He sighs, a smile finally forming on his lips.

“Fine. But only cause you’re so convincing.”

You stare at the food you dedicated your evening to, getting cold on their plates. Your lips are outlined in a pout, thinking about how Rafe is never home this late.

Your mind has already conjured up every worst-case scenario. But the most realistic scenario, is the one that hurts your heart the most. You worry that Rafe simply got distracted, and he forgot to tell you he’ll be home late.

You don’t want to be forgotten.

You try not to think about it. He really has changed so much, turned into the man you’ve always known he could be.

That’s why you married him.

So, you don’t want to think about how it could have all been for nothing.

Before you can go farther down your pit of despair, a ding from your phone pulls you back.

You breathe a sigh of relief at his text. He just needs to stay late and work. You know he’s been wanting that promotion, which goes further than wanting more money.

You text him back, making sure to put his dinner in the fridge.

The only sound that echoes through the dark house are Rafe’s footsteps. His movements are slow as he goes up the stairs, hoping to God that you’re sound asleep.

But once he gets past you in bed, sleeping peacefully, he locks himself in the bathroom. He stands there for a minute, unsure of what to do. Adrenaline still rushes through his veins, his breathing erratic.

His blue eyes find the mirror in front of him, taking in his disheveled state. The evidence of what he’s done is still on him and it hits him like a slap in the face.

After that, he’s frantic, peeling off his clothes as fast as he can.

Rafe steps into the shower, lathering soap over his skin, washing his hair, and scrubbing under his nails. The red tinted water goes down the drain.

Once he gets out, a towel around his hips, he picks up his clothes from the floor, inspecting them for any evidence.

His eyes widen at the stains, heading downstairs to throw them in the washer. He doesn’t worry about his shoes, only finding mud on them.

The clock reads 3:47 when he finally gets in bed next to you. You don’t stir as he settles in. Serenity paints your features as his are creased with uncertainty. But that slowly vanishes the longer he looks at your face. He softly presses his lips to your head before shutting his eyes.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist for this series!

[mamirhodessxox]

The Other Side Of Paradise

Re6!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Desc- An outbreak occurs over the early beginning of the summer while you & your newly engaged fiancé/work partner Leon Kennedy were at the Hospital to welcome your first babygirl only for things to occur VERY bad.

Contents- Violence, Disturbing details, Gore, Angst, Near Death occurrence, Infections, Fatal Pandemic, Guns, Death from the infected. Someone dies & it’s certainly not Leon or the Baby :(

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Today was supposed to be the best day of You & Leons life. You were welcoming your firstborn to the world today. This morning around 5:30 You had discovered your water had broken finally after an exciting 9 months. Leons heart was racing as he drove you to the ER. Every emotion was souring through his body, Fear, Joy, Love, Excitement, Anxiety, Everything.

For the first few hours everything was going smooth, Leon was chatting up the Doctor & You were having small contractions but nothing you couldn’t handle, Especially if you had went on missions with Leon, Contractions compared to the things you endured was practically nothing.

Soon they started to get worse so Leon decided to take you for a walk around the hospital to distract you, but you had to separate due to you having the urge to use the bathroom, while you went into the restroom Leon had waited for you & watched the TV in the hallway that had the news airing ‘Breaking news! A fatal variant outbreak of Las Plagas has hit the united states causing some American Citizens to go into almost zombie or cannibalistic acts! CDC has recommended to lock yourself in your homes and go into complete lock down until national security handles the current situation.’ Leon had felt his heart drop to the ground as he watched everyone panic, but his gut earlier almost knew something bad was going to happen, which is why he snuck a gun into the baby bag behind your back before your arrival to the hospital.

While you were in the bathroom washing your hands you had heard strange grunting in a bathroom stall that was unlocked causing you to become slightly concerned “Hello?” … “Hello? Are you alright in there..?” You had eased closer and closer to the stall but a woman who seemed extremely Ill dug her nails into your arms and slamming your back into the wall making you shriek which immediately caught Leons attention. He ran into the bathroom and immediately yanked the woman off of you and slammed her onto the ground “sweetheart!? What happened are you alright!?” You listened to him question you but you couldn’t help but feel an ultimate pain in your stomach “Get a fucking doctor..now leon!”

He nodded his head quickly without a question, when you both had left the restroom the entire Hospital was on lockdown, no regular lights on other than red ones that flashed with a loud alarm going off, “The fuck are you two doing!? Go to your fucking room!” A doctor shouted but leon stopped him “Your going with us, my fucking fiancé is going into labor!” The doctor looked at you & noticed black veins surrounding your arm “Your fiancée is fucking infected are you serious!? Figure it out!” Your body froze as you stopped your movement “Infected? What the hell do you mean INFECTED?” Leon look at your arm & notice the broken skin from the woman digging her nails in your arm “shit..baby your gonna be okay alright? And you, you’re coming with us and helping her give fucking birth am I clear?” He spoke to the doctor in a more threatening tome causing the man to meekly agree and go into the room with you both as well as 2 other nurses.

“If we do this fast enough your baby will be able to come out safe & sound but even now it’s a low chance so let’s get this over with.” The doctor spoke as he snapped on gloves & a mask while the nurses prepared everything for the baby’s arrival. Leon stood next to you as you laid in the bed. Everything hurt to the point where you started thrashing and screaming “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?? WHAT AM I INFECTED WITH WHY WON’T ANY OF YOU TELL ME!?” Leon crouched to your level and held your hand as he tried getting you to calm down “Miss I need you to take a deep breath and start push-“. “No! I’M NOT EVEN FUCKING READ-“ Leon grabbed your face and made you look directly at home “Sweetheart listen to the doctor and start pushing as hard as you possibly fucking can alright?” Tears ran down your face from the excruciating pain as you nodded your head, You took a sharp inhale & started pushing immediately “FU-FUCK!”

Leon felt you grab onto his hands as you started screaming at the top of your lungs “I don’t know if she will even make it” the doctor lightly mumbled as she kept pushing, blood was getting everywhere, you were becoming pale, your veins were turning black, Leon felt panic rush through his blood but all he could do was hold your head so you could focus on him & give birth “I love you so much sweetheart, you know that? I am so fucking proud of you baby your doing so good f’me, keep pushing angel your almost there”, he ran his fingers through your messy hair as your breath became rigid & short “One more push!” You squeezed your eyes shut & started pushing more & eventually you heard cries but your hearing sounded very muffled as you tried listening to Leon murmuring how proud he was of you & how beautiful you are. But soon everything went mute, your body went limp, your breathing stopped, everything stopped.

“Baby?? What the fuck happened to her? Why isn’t she responding? Sweetheart? C’mon wake up you have to meet her- it’s not time for this angel c’mon” Leon panicked as he started gently patting your face & lifting your head trying to wake you as one of the nurses held your guys’ newborn daughter who came out extremely healthy, the doctor checked your pulse & soon noticed that you were unresponsive.

They felt bad for Leon, this was the last thing he could possibly want, he had plans for you, he looked forward to nothing more than your wedding, he craved to see you walk down the isle while you held your sweet babygirl in the beautiful white gown you picked out, he craved to spend time with you in this exact room while you both cradled your healthy babygirl & think of what was to come, but unfortunately all of those plans soon vanished in the flick of a light.

Leon held your head up to his shoulder as he kissed your temple, and mumbled how much he loved you & wished this was all somehow a fucked up joke, but eventually he had to let go. The nurse quickly handed him your daughter & rushed out of the room with the doctor as she mumbled her condolences.

All he could do was sit and hold his daughter as he disassociated reminiscing on the past as utter chaos occurred behind these walls of the hospital,

He heard tour laugh echo through his ears as he remembered yesterday morning while he spoke to your stomach “We’re so excited to meet you princess, you have no idea” he looked up to see you smile as you played with his hair “I wonder what it will be like when she’s all grown up & gets a boyfriend one day” Leon glared and kissed your stomach “Your grounded until your 80 got that babygirl? I know you hear me.”

He finally returned to reality and looked down at his baby who was cooing and already opening her eyes, the eyes that looked exactly like yours, she was perfect, just as perfect as you. He got up and placed her on the nursing table and immediately started covering her in a tiny blanket, put a beanie on her head in hopes to cover her ears as he put on one of those baby wrap carries & grabbed the baby bag quickly pulling out a gun. He walked back over to the bed you were laid out in & kissed the top of your head one final time before looking down at his chest to his daughter.

“Let’s go Delilah, we have some things to handle..”

The only thing he was happy about was his daughter, & that you were now no longer in anymore suffrage & finally at the other side of paradise. He only hoped God would take care of you while he couldn’t.

It was now him & his little girl against the world. Starting today.

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @valkyrurx @agent-dessis-posts

[good-vs-evo]

oooh i was just tryna find some huayin content because i was bored and a little tired and wanted to cheer myself up AND GUESS WHAT

i thought tumblr was a safe place for me to be insane and queer and have a good time w my silly little rarepairs and polycules and hcs

but apparently. i can't ask for one place to be silly lmao there are ppl on tumblr still being like haters... for ships they could easily avoid? and putting it... under the huayin tag? which is, you know. the uh. the intention is kind of confusing. esp since ppl search up that tag w the intent to consume content related to their personal interests and probably don't want to see ppl hating on what they enjoy in the process <3

once again i don't really see the point in so avidly hating a ship that ur tagging it... in hopes that ppl who ship it will see it? because... they're ppl who ship it... and will likely not agree w u... and will likely just see u as another hater... and either ignore or fight and like where will that get anyone? sincerely? and hating an artist so much like w so much passion i think there are better things in life to do such as: find an artist u do like and move on!!

but i digress i just. i wanted to make a lil post w my hcs for them bc i <3 huayin hehe

reusing some from my long post abt all the rarepairs and polycules i ship!

hua cheng rarely got sick, but when he did, he wasn't worried (he knew yin yu would take good care of him)

both yin yu and hua cheng know how to cook, so they make each other meals when they know the other is too busy to remember to cook for themselves

yin yu can read hua cheng's handwriting! possibly the only person on heaven, hell, and earth who can, he's really used to seeing his messy scribbles and has learned how to decipher them

hua cheng was kind of a xie lian gatekeeper for a while, but he regaled yin yu with stories and let yin yu into his temple dedicated to xie lian

e'ming trusts yin yu and likes him to equal levels to xie lian

they have some little odd creatures of mysterious background that they keep and raise together in paradise mansion

yin yu asked hua cheng to teach him how to draw and paint and hua cheng has little lessons for him when they're both free

yin yu's interested in different kinds of masks, so hua cheng gifted him a room and funds to invest in new ones

they have chill time once a month when they're required to leave their work to just spend an entire day together

hua cheng's love language to yin yu is acts of service and gift giving

yin yu's love language to hua cheng is acts of service (no wayyy) and touch

hope u enjoy :) and also wishing u a nice day :D

[railingsofsorrow]

Hope you're having an awesome day/night

I was wondering if I could request a BAU Team x Male reader who is a serial killer but in prison

The team pull him out to help on a complicated case unfortunately knowing reader can help its just if he will.

Reader is smart and cunning, he wants his freedom back if given the chance any chance he'll take it. (He reminds people of a wolf not so much a human)

Maybe a lil enemies to lovers with Derek

If you can maybe could you add this prompt for reader

It was unending horror after unending horror and at this point the terror in my blood had run dry and given way to apathy and exhaustion.

Skeletons In The Closet

A/N: this was so fun to write. I've done lots of research on psychopathy and the sources will be at the end of the one shot but remember I'm not a professional in the field! I tried my best. I hope I granted you wishes, sorry for taking so long! 

summary: a copycat killer is out in the city and the BAU needs your help to uncover the case. you just have one condition: to see derek morgan.  pairing: slight derek morgan x male!reader  w.c: 5.3K warnings/content: probably wrong portrayal of police procedures; case-related violence; graphic description of dead bodies; different povs; reader has heavy mood swings and has a cruel interpretation of things; manipulation; descriptions of child abuse; a portrayal of psychopathy; derek is Frustrated (with reason); discussion about the paradox of being saved; there is no comfort, no matter how much you search, but there's humor; italics are flashbacks; this is not a romantic fic; (let me know if I've forgotten something).

navi 

masterpost 

requested by @xweirdo101x 

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❝ The mind is its own place,

and in itself

can make a heaven of hell,

a hell of heaven. ❞

[john milton - paradise lost]

“No.”  

It's the first thing Derek says when the room becomes silent. He's been a member of this team for years and they know each other's quirks and twitches like no outsider can. They can basically read each other's minds; in a very amateur way of saying things. Which is why he knows when Hotch's brows furrow in thought that your name will be the next thing leaving his boss's mouth.  

He wanted to avoid that from happening. “Absolutely not.” Derek shook his head in disbelief. “Hotch, you know this won't work.” 

“If he's willing to cooperate, it might.”  Blake quipped, not understanding Derek's sudden defensiveness. It wouldn't be the first time the team is dealing with serial killers to resolve a case.  

“That's the thing; he won't cooperate,” Derek stated, straightening his posture as tension weighed on his shoulders. “He will talk at first, give his insight pretending he wants nothing in return. Then, he will leave us hanging and confuse us until we give him what he wants. This is how he works.” 

“He's the only one who has the M.O. similar to Kyle Weathers,” JJ remarked, giving Derek a sympathetic look because she knew the topic made him touchy. It made everyone on the team extra cautious, in all honesty.  

Y/N Y/L/N was one of the hardest Unsubs they had to capture. The investigation lasted three weeks. There were a number of suspects until the team acquired a successful profile. It had been one of the victims, that had been attacked in the same spot as the bodies had been found, who almost sidetracked all of the clues they gathered up if Reid hadn't of caught on the lie.  

Y/N was cunning from the start. He inserted himself in the investigation, providing every bit of evidence he could muster. Such a helpful witness, really. This is what they had thought.

“I just want the bastard to be caught. That was the worst night of my life. I've never felt so scared, Agent Morgan.” 

“I get it, kid.” Derek let out a sigh, leaning back on the chair. He pitied the boy sitting in front of him in the investigation room. You had bruises all over his arms, a busted lip, a purple eye along with a small cut above his left brow. He believed he also saw him limping when he arrived at the station for the second time that week.  

Derek wanted to throw the asshole who did that in jail, as well as the rest of the team. But it had been a week and they had gotten nothing. The leads were scarce and the only two victims that survived the attacks couldn't be much help. Lyra Michaels, the first survivor, was in the hospital, breathing through mechanical ventilation. Y/N Y/L/N, the second one, fortunately, were in a better condition than Lyra and he was currently helping out as much as he could by repeating what happened the night he was attacked by the Unsub.  

You and Lyra had no connections whatsoever. You didn't frequent the same college nor did you have common friends, or shared the same GPS route on a daily basis.  

Spencer was having trouble narrowing down the areas for the geographic profile. This is why they needed you again to provide more information. 

“He hit me in the head with a bat. I passed out. When I woke up he was about to—to—” 

“Deep breaths, Y/N.”  

“He was wearing a red shirt.” Emily tilted her head beside Derek. They exchanged a look. His first statement claimed it was a yellow shirt. “And, and a black hat... I can see the scar on his jaw...” He jolted up, chest going up and down with heavy breaths. “I'm sorry, I couldn't— He was getting too close.” 

“Hey, kid.” Derek squeezed his arm in a comforting manner. “It's okay. You did more than enough. That was very helpful.” 

“Derek.” Emily watched you leave the room through the blinds. “He's lying.”  

Derek remained quiet, he knew she was right. 

The supposed memories you had of the night you was attacked were all lies. You weren't the second victim. You had never been attacked. When they figured that out, two more bodies were found and you vanished. A week later, you surrendered.  

You had lied. You had been lying to them ever since the first moment you were interrogated in the hospital room. As a victim.  

Y/N Y/L/N was a twenty-eight-year-old sadistic psychopath classified as a serial killer according to the number of victims he's made and the patterns in his M.O. He approached his victims and befriended them for a period of two weeks prior to the murder, keeping them for two nights and torturing them by cutting off their tongues and stabbing their left thigh — that last one was intrinsically connected to the scar he acquired on his left thigh as a kid, inflicted by his own mother the same way he did with his victims.  

Spencer Reid was sent to Sussex I State Prison at eight o'clock in the morning. A manila folder in one hand and his satchel in the other. As a security guard accompanied him on their way to the visitation room, he repeated his only goal today: get you to talk. Then, he would try to convince you to help. Which, honestly? It's a shot in the dark. He visualized this going two ways and none of them worked in his favor. He profiled you once and according to his studies, despite the good behavior in prison, you hadn't changed.  

Psychopathy is not a mental illness that can be treated with psychiatric medication and therapy. It is a personality disorder, there is no cure for it. 

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SUSSEX I STATE PRISON – 8:05 A.M. 

One thing you knew well was how to mask your true emotions. You're not sure if your mother taught you, but at some point in your messed up life, you learned it. Maybe from watching her. Maybe when you understood that swallowing up your cries was better than letting it all out because her punishments wouldn't be as harsh as they usually were. 

As you entered the room, your attention fell on a figure you hadn't see since you got locked up in here. Well, he was one of the people responsible for putting you in this place. This was not gift giving situation. You knew the reason and it made something in your chest leap. They needed you. 

Your gaze danced around Spencer before you sat down in front of him.  

“I know you.” You stated the obvious, leaning back on the chair.  

Spencer introduced himself even if it was pointless. He was trying to insert himself in your narrative, but he'd lost that game since the first match. 

“I'm Doctor Spencer Reid from the Behavior Analysis Unit.” Spencer straightened his posture, lips pressing together in a tight-lipped smile.  

You offered him a smug grin, slouching. The chains collided with the table and Spencer almost flinched at the bothersome noise.  

“I know you,” You repeated. “That wasn't a question, Doctor. I don't forget a pretty face.” 

Spencer cleared his throat, opening the manila folder to expose the crime scenes. Oh, straight to business. “I have a few photos to show you. May I?” He received silence in response and as he looked up. Your expression was blank, a faint line in your mouth. You studied him carefully. 

“A couple hundred PhD's and a few BA's, right?” Spencer blinked confused at your affirmation. “You're very smart or something, aren't you, Doctor?” 

You don't let Spencer answer. 

“You know, you gave me Hufflepuff vibes the first time I saw you. But now I definitely think you're a Ravenclaw.” You pointed at him, eyes narrowing as if you were searching for something specific. “Yeah, definitely a Ravenclaw.” 

“Aren't those two of the houses from that famous book franchise?” Spencer's brows furrowed in thought. Your brows arched in amusement. “Harry Potter, is it?” 

“Bingo.” You gave him a grin, clearly pleased. “Congratulations, Doc. You've earned one point for guessing a pop culture question right.” 

“Why do you think I'm in Ravenclaw?” Spencer had no idea what that even meant, did he? You bit your lower lip to avoid laughing. 

“Because you're a know-it-all.” You deadpanned as if it was obvious, head lolling to the side. You're getting bored. “You know what isn't very Ravenclaw of you?” You asked, giving him a sideways glance. 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. “What?” 

“Coming here and making me purposely leave my UNO match.” It was a mumble, an edge of annoyance. He was making you bored. Doctor Reid was boring, actually. He wasn't the one in the BAU that spiked your interest. “No, that was idiotic of your part, Doctor Reid.” 

Spencer placed two crime scene photos in front of him.“They were found yesterday. Killed two weeks ago. Buried in the same disposal site. Do you recognize this?” Okay, he was losing his patience as well. Good.  

“Dr. Reid,” You drawled, gazing falling in the photos for the first time that morning. Hm. That's... oddly familiar— No. No, you are not engaging. He does not deserve a second of your attention. Who did the FBI think they were? People only had power over you once in your life, in the past. Not anymore and never again. “I know about the recent murders and I know why you're here. I, however, am not speaking to you about them. You've successfully wasted your time.” You said short, calling up the guard. 

“They have your M.O., are you really going to let someone else take credit for your work?” He tried foolishly. All that academic knowledge and so so stupid. 

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes. Lucky for him, you have watched CSI: Miami so you knew that M.O stands for Modus Operandi. Did you really need to spell it out what was it that you wanted for him? “Agent Morgan.” You turn back to look at him, a pointed gaze. “He's the only one I'll speak to. Goodbye.” 

You wondered if you had that much effect on Derek Morgan for another fed to be sent in here instead of him. 

Finally, back to your UNO game. 

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SUSSEX I STATE PRISON - 3 P.M 

The crisp breeze of November curled around the back of his neck along with the descending temperature of this time of the month.  

Derek was frozen in front of the Sussex State Prison's entrance. Quite literally, actually, if he didn't have his thick jacket on he would probably be frozen by now. The autumn weather prepared the city for winter, the cold air already taking over, the sky cloudy. Derek didn't enjoy winter that much, he wasn't fond of the cold. Penelope, on the other hand, loved the winter. She told him once that she would live inside a snow globe if she had the chance because then she would have an excuse to always dress up and decorate everything with Christmas lights.  

She wanted to come with him today. Derek said no. He had to do this by himself. He watched her hesitate to agree with him but there wasn't any other alternative. If they wanted to get a new lead, they had to play your game. By your rules.  

He hated every part of it, but that was the job, what could he do about it? 

“He's a sadistic psychopath,” Spencer told him before he got into the car. For some reason, he had followed him out to the parking lot. “He will try and devalue speaking about the case to enhance his grandiosity—” 

Derek furrowed his brows, “Reid. I read the files. I've interviewed him before.” I've been through this before, you think I can't do my job? He was honestly frustrated. The kid had been prowling him like a hawk the entire morning. 

Spencer sighed, resigned. “Y/N is cunning. He'll use the fact that you trusted him to his benefit. He'll use it against you. Just- just remember that, yeah?” 

Derek knew it from the start. The main reason for him to be resistant to bringing you to the case was that it would all come back. The victims. The chase. The failure. He failed to save those people. If he had caught on to the odd behavior from the first moment, people would still be alive; Lyra Michaels included.  

“Am I hallucinating or is that Derek Morgan in this very room?” 

Now, he had to look at the reminder and convince it to help his team. He signaled that it was okay for the officer to leave. You moved slowly from the door, analyzing him with mirth. That joy seeping from your eyes was what made him cautious.  

“He's also got an unhealthy obsession with you.” Spencer folded his arms as Derek shut the car door. “So be careful.” 

“Not my first rodeo, pretty boy.” Derek sent him a wink. But thanks for caring. “If you got any change in the geographic profile or something, call me.” 

“Will do.” 

“It's been what, four, five years?”  

If there's something you loathed, that was the silence. The feeling you have when someone is not paying attention to you.  

Derek used that to his advantage.  

“Four bodies were found in Widewater State Park.” Derek unceremoniously placed the images of the bodies in front of him. “It started with one week apart from the first and two bodies, but it escalated to three days. The dump site and the torture seem familiar to you?” 

You gave him a flat look but looked downward nevertheless.  

The first image displayed a caucasian man with his mouth ajar and dried blood around his lips. He had small cuts and bruises all over his body, but what really grasped your attention was the cut in his left thigh; a vertical slash, precise. He couldn't deny the keen resemblance.  

A cheap copy. 

“I don't know.” You settled for, fingertips grazing the photos with curiosity. Did the person admire what you did? Did they admire you?  

The scoff you heard made you look up. “So you're wasting my time.” Derek spat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “Were those the five minutes of attention you wanted?”  

You spared him a look of bewilderment. You didn't know if he was playing a part or genuinely pissed off. Your bet was on a bit of both. 

“Agent Morgan, I have no idea what you're talking about.” 

Derek let out a hum as he started to gather the pictures. You straightened up in your seat. Fuck. “What are you doing?” You questioned, voice on edge in alarm. Derek merely shrugged and you grab one of the pictures haphazardly. He raises one of his brows in a silent question. “Did he drown them?” You choose to stare at the image instead of the satisfaction in Derek's face.  

“What do you think?”  

You breathed out in relief when he sat down again. This is more of a bodily response. You have attention, you have eyes on you and you have who you want giving you their precious time.  

It was part of your work, bringing them to the park, pulling their heads under water and holding it until you felt them stop fighting, stop breathing. The power you had over them at that moment was exhilarating. And a bit funny given that they never.stopped.fighting. Not until their bodies did it for them. 

Your eyes narrowed at the rope marks around their necks. That wasn't right. But the cut on the thigh was on the exact same spot you used to do. Staring at the blue lifeless eyes of the man caused annoyance to travel up your features. 

"He's not doing it right." You spat, sliding the image in his direction with disdain.  

"You think so?"  

"I never tied a rope around their neck, I used my bare hands. I did it all myself, I felt life leave their bodies knowing that I was responsible for it and I felt good." You marveled, slamming your hand against the table. Derek wasn't phased. "That was my work. My work was flawless. He's an amateur." 

"Okay." 

"Okay what?" You gritted.  

"I get it, kid. Your ego is bruised. I understand why. This guy is an amateur. That's why we're trying to find him." 

Your shoulders relaxed as you leaned back. The anger seemed to dissipate as it had come, suddenly. Your face became emotionless. That triggered a memory in Derek's brain. 

“Never understood why you kept on calling me kid..." You commented, head tilting to the side. "We're almost the same age, six years of different or so, right? You're not the only one who does that either. It's funny, isn't it? No matter how many people I've killed, If I look young, they'll see me as a boy.” The corners of your lips raised slightly.  

Derek placed another picture in front of you. This one wasn't from a crime scene. "Do you know this guy?" You took your time analyzing him. Not the picture, not the unknown man. Him.  

Derek Morgan had ghosts as well as you did. You concluded that as soon as he walked into the hospital room. Great physique, a strong voice and a kind persona. But his eyes carried that fog beneath the light and the will to help people.

He also wore a mask to display to society. You did the same up to your twenty years of age. After your mother died, it became easier to let go of things. To accept your true reality. You weren't like most people, you had a distinct way of thinking. They never understood you. That never bothered you that much. When it did, you got rid of them. Why should you deal with stupid problems if you could nip it in the bud? 

Your childhood hadn't been perfect. It was the worst part of your life, truth be told. Your mother being responsible for half the pain you endured while the other half remained with the bullies in your classroom. Yes, kids were cruel. But living with your birth giver was unending horror after unending horror and at some point, the terror in your blood had run dry and given way to apathy and exhaustion. You were simply sick of it. Of her. 

Back then, you used to wonder if something was wrong with you. But after having a taste of blood in your hands, you acknowledged that something was wrong with them. And you couldn't have that. You didn't want to.  

Thanks to your mother, you figured out the easiest way to deal with people. So you passed it on. Your legacy. You called it your own work of art.  

And now someone attempted to make a poor copy of your work. 

"That's Kyle." You say, looking away from the photo. "Kyle Weathers." 

"And you know him." That hadn't been a question so he already knew about Kyle and the relevance he had in your life. Well, you could confirm you had more relevance in his life than he ever had in yours. He was a bit obsessed with you for a while. You didn't stay in his life long enough to feed into that sick reality of his.  

“I knew him.” You corrected him. “We went to the same community college. And no, he wasn't my boyfriend or anything like that.” 

“Was he your accomplice?” 

Your lips draw into a flat line. “I just told you he was nothing. Less alone my partner in crime.” You said with humor. “He wouldn't pull it off.” 

“But you had some sort of connection?” 

Your brows knit together slowly as you add one plus one. “You don't want me to keep repeating myself, Derek. Does he have anything to do with this? That would explain this shit show.” You mention the photos with disgust and wait patiently for him to clarify his claims.  

“Why do you think that?” 

“You're becoming annoying like that Doctor.” 

Derek couldn't help the chuckle. Satisfaction spreads through your chest and you decided he deserved more than you were letting on. You were almost getting where you wanted, after all. 

“Kyle had some sort of a... fixation with me.”  

“How so?” 

“We were enrolled in the same classes. Visited the same bars and such. But until the third year of college, he started to act out.” You paused. “He was interested in being more than friends. I never saw him that way. He kept on bothering me for a few months, sending me gifts, even showing up to my mother's funeral.” You snickered. “Kyle was... something. A little sick in the head, if you ask me.” 

And you're not? — Derek thought to himself, analyzing the story. Kyle Weathers was their first option in the suspect list as of now. And according to your newest information, he also matched the profile. That would explain why both M.O.'s were so similar. Kyle was trying to relive the narrative of a relationship he created in his head. That still didn't explain the victimology or the entire reasoning for the murders.  

“I'll have to take a closer look to be sure,” you interrupted his train of thought. Derek noticed you were slightly closer, elbows leaning on the table as your eyes traveled through his face.  

He figured you'd ask something like that at some point. This is what he warned Hotch about. The cooperation only lasted until a particular stage, then you'd want more.  

“You'll have to take a closer look at the crime scenes?” Derek said, narrowing his eyes at him. “Is that what you're saying?” 

“It's been a few years, Agent Morgan. It's not easy to trigger those memories.” 

“You're only trying to relive the murders.” 

You shrugged, unaffected by that affirmation. Honestly? You just wanted to breathe some fresh air away from this prison. “Maybe. But who would be better than me to help you on this?” You raised an eyebrow. “Because that's what you need, isn't it? My help?” 

Say it. 

Derek's jaw clenched. He wanted to bang your head on the table, you could see by the conflict in his gaze.  

Say it.  

“What's it gonna be, Agent Morgan?” 

“If you so much as slip once,” Derek apprised. “I'll sent you right to death row. Is that clear?” 

You pressed your lips together, staring at him with a glint in your eyes. “Yes. Pretty clear.” You paused, tongue poking your cheek in smugness. “So, you need me, right. You need my help?” 

Derek shut the Manila folder after placing the photos in it. He stood up, stepping towards the door, but before he could call for the security guard, your voice rang through the room. A mellowed sound mixed with salient confidence.  

“If you don't admit it, I'll make sure the BAU never hears from me again and Kyle will be gone long before you think of him.” He froze at the door, inhaling sharply as to avoid snapping and screwing up his team's plan. 

Say it. 

“Yes, we need your help, Y/N.” 

There. You smirked. That's what you wanted. 

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WIDEWATER STATE PARK — 10 A.M. 

Dry leaves snapped under your feet as you walked further into the park. Last time you saw the sun, the trees carried a yellowish color; it was the start of the autumn season. Now, the air was chilly, it tickled the tip of your nose and caused you to sniffle pathetically. You had always been sensitive to the cold. 

You missed your freedom. Not being pushed around by pricks that thought they have power over you and schedules to follow or else you'll be thrown in solitary confinement. You missed the gashes in your feet every time you'd walk aimlessly through the woods. Barefoot. 

The truth was that you didn't actually need to be transported to the latest crime scene to recall valuable information on Kyle Weathers. The BAU knew that was an excuse as well, they had to. But they chose to work by your rules for a brief period of time, your guess was that they were running on short notice. 

"He liked to tie people up." You blurted out, eyes fixated on the marks around the man's neck. He used rope. "He used to boost his abilities in bed as if I gave a shit about it. And he mentioned about tying people up. How he enjoyed feeling in control." 

"BDSM involves power exchange, as in someone is dominant and the other person is submissive. Kink and fetishes play a big role in this world as well, although they are two different things. Handcuffing, for example, falls under the kink classification, which means that some people may be aroused when they get tied up."  

Your attention was anchored on the youngest in the team for a hot minute. "You may just not be as annoying as I thought you were, Doctor Reid." His forehead wrinkled as if he was trying to figure out whether that was a good thing or not.  

"It doesn't make sense how he knew so much about your process of doing things, does it?" You recognized Agent Prentiss when they last conducted a cognitive interview with you. "It's almost the same M.O." 

"Except that it isn't." You said with an eye roll. You were getting annoyed of this non-sense comparison. Kyle didn't have your thought-out scheme. Kyle wasn't you. That was why he failed. That was why he would get caught and it would be your pleasure to be of help with that. "I never used ropes in the neck, just in the feet and hands to make my life easier. You know, sometimes they would never stop moving. For some reason, they didn't accept their fate until I brought them here." You looked around, forcing the setting into your brain to poke back the last memories you had here. That last screams. The last begging for help.  

"Where is he, Y/N." You had seen him before, but you didn't remember his name, just the stern frown he had permanently etched on his face. He, too, was losing his patience with you. You chuckled, shaking your head. 

"Is something funny?" The blonde one spoke with you for the first time since they had arrived at the park. You barely spared her a look before you glanced up at Derek. He had been watching your every step as if you would disappear from thin air and they would have to chase you down. Again. Oh, those were fun times. You wondered where they would put you this time if you did that again. 

"He's bad at this." You said. "It's like he's asking to be caught."  

"He was interested in you, that's what you said, right?" Another brunette referred to you. She reminded you of your mother, except for the kind eyes. Your mother didn't have those. She didn't have kind in anything. "Is there a place you would visit together? A secret spot? Just for the two of you." You studied the woman for a while, quietly. She was the only one who remained calm until now. The color of her hair and the shape of her face made you feel... confused. As much as she looked like your mother, their stances were distinct. The woman in front of you didn't stand with her nose up as if she was above everyone else, no. She looked at you as if she were interested in what you had to say. As if she cared. 

You looked down at the body, choosing to focus on the lacerations on the dead man's legs. "His first murder was by my side." A needle could drop on the grass and it would echo through the silence that formed. "That night, I taught him everything he needed to know to do... this." You glanced down at the body. There was no reasonable motive for you to be confessing deliberately to them like this, but you did it, anyway. You told them about Kyle's first body, which was not included in his current body count. You told them about how he knew who you were and what you did and still became obsessed with an idea of you he constructed in his head. A fantasy.

In short, you gave the FBI the intent, the ability and the opportunity so they could finally find Kyle Weathers.

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SUSSEX I STATE PRISON - 5 P.M 

You didn't lie. There wasn't an appeal to do it. Boredom curled up on your shoulders and not even the bloodied images or the fact that you were out of that cubicle you had to live in for the rest of your life made you the least excited.  

“You're still trying to help me.” You muttered to Derek as you arrived back in Sussex. There were some pigeons fighting for a dead squirrel near the entrance.  

Derek danced in his own silence as you were guided back to your cell.  

Maybe that's why Derek Morgan intrigued you. Despite the anger and disappointment, he looked at you as a person. Deep down, he saw you as someone he could have saved from the torment of human life. Except that you became your own torment and you ate it as a snack on a daily basis. It was bitter, but when did you ever enjoy sweet things?  

You couldn't be saved.  

“There's no fixing me, Agent Morgan.” You told him as you stopped in the corridor that lead to your home sweet home. “I don't have anything broken. This is who I am. If I came to terms with it, you can too.”  

He didn't say anything. You didn't wait for an answer. But you felt his eyes following you as you were escorted away.  

Somehow, his silence said everything. He knew that he, too, couldn't be saved. Could anyone ever escape their own sorrows? Our ghosts were always there, in the corner, whispering and conspiring against the darkness, tampering with our minds. We ended up limping, as if a leg was missing because we couldn't interpret what the world told us and what the voices — the ghosts' voices — claimed as truth.  

Your mother might have been right; an apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all. 

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sources: [1] [2] [3] [4]

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A/N: life has been hectic lately and I'm struggling with my mental health as usual. so this is going to be my last request for a while. I have to focus on other things but I'll still be around, just gotta take a break from requests <3

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Another Day in Paradise, Chapter 2

Pairing: Eventually Alastor x OFC, later- light Alastor x ofc x Lucifer Rated: E for eventual smut Content warnings: It's Hazbin Hotel- this feels redundant. Sex, eventual smut, referenced implied suicide to be discussed in more detail later, drugs, drinking, poor coping, toxic behavior, controlling behavior, cannibalism, idk, it's fucking Hazbin Hotel, if it's worth a content warning it's probably going to come up at some point? Religious trauma

AN: Why not post another chapter?

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

~~~~~<3

Amber had a good cry again, allowed herself a moment to fall apart before pulling herself back together again. Washing her face in the sink, she tried to push the fear away. It was easier, having had a chance to cry and get clean. 

Standing tall with her back straight, Amber pulled her shoulders back and tried to tell herself that she was going to be okay. 

Charlie was waiting outside the room door as Amber opened it. For a second, worry was on her face but it was quickly replaced with a bright smile. “You look so much better without the dirt! Not that you looked bad, just- you’re perked up. Oh your ears are so cute!” 

“Thank you?” Amber felt her ears twitch on her head, shifting to lean back as Charlie leaned into them, towering over. The woman was a giant. “And thank you for the clothes.” 

“Come on! Let me give you a tour now that you’re feeling better.” Charlie grabbed her hand and pulled her along. The careful strength of the Princess had been replaced by someone that very much reminded Amber of a golden retriever or perhaps a cinnamon roll, should one have someone become sentient. 

Amber wasn’t tall in life and that hadn’t been greatly corrected in death. Her eyesight? That got fixed. But her height? Nope, she was still short. There wasn’t a hope in hell that she could keep up with Charlie.

“Sweetie, you’re dragging her.” Charlie dropped Amber’s hand and pulled her in front of a woman who thankfully did not tower as well with long white hair and gray skin. 

“This is my girlfriend,” Amber smiled at the warmth and giddiness in Charlie’s voice. Was the relationship new or were they just still that in love? 

“Vaggie.” The woman gave her name, sparing a warm look to the tall woman behind Amber before refocusing her attention. “I’m glad the clothes fit you.”

“Thank you for them. I’ll return them to you as soon as-”

“No need.” Vaggie waved off Amber’s words as if they were annoying bugs. “Call it a welcome gift.” 

It was a simple hotel, all things considered. There were rooms on the upper floors with the main ground floor acting as a lobby and parlor. Behind a set of double doors was a modest commercial kitchen. An open room separated by large arches held the dining room. Tables looked to be shoved together haphazardly to make a larger family table in the center. 

The lobby was littered with a few couches, some armchairs and coffee tables. It was cozy in a way, if you ignored the stains on the carpet and the ripped wallpaper in places. In the lobby she met the smallest woman she had ever seen with one large eye that held a murderous glint. 

“We’re pretty sure Nifty is harmless.” Charlie assured as the woman ran off to stab bugs. 

“Are you sure ‘pretty sure’ is sure enough?” Amber didn’t mean to say it out loud for fear that questioning would upset her hosts and result in her being sent out again. Instead of being offended, Charlie laughed as if she was making a joke. 

These people were so weirdly normal.

The hotel bar looked like it had been ripped out of another building and dropped in the lobby. It didn’t fit in the slightest. 

Behind the bar was a tall cat man with dark fur and wings. Wings. This was hell and hell had cat men with wings. Amber remembered her childhood cat’s obsession with trying to catch her father’s parakeet. Did winged cat men chase birds or was that too close to cannibalism?

Hell was fucking weird. 

“This is Husk,” Charlie introduced the man behind the counter who simply raised an eyebrow at her. “He’s our bartender. Husk, this is Amber- she’s our newest guest!” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Amber wasn’t sure what else to say. If she left her mouth open too long, she feared something else would come out unintentionally again. 

“Yeah, yeah- pleasure and all that shit.” Husk paid more attention to cleaning the glass in his hand than them. Never had she seen someone give off the vibe of ‘I don’t get paid enough for this shit’ as this man was.

“Hey foxy lady,” Spoke a tall thin pink thing leaning on the bar in what she thought was an attempt to be seductive. “What brings you here?”

The man leaned up, supporting his weight with a lower set of arms as he positioned an upper set of arms. Why did he have to sets of arms? Why was he pink? What was he? Was he a he? Amber felt like she had seen him before but for the life of her, she couldn’t place him. 

“This is our long time resident and friend, Angel Dust!” Charlie had what Amber was starting to believe was an unending well of manic energy. Was she on something? “This is our newest guest! Amber!” 

Amber was starting to feel like a prize with how Charlie would throw her arms out and introduce her. It reminded her a lot of a game show host showing a prize to be won. 

“Don’t be weird.” Vaggie warned the pink person. 

“He’s fine. You get used to him.” Charlie assured. 

He was a he, good to know. Amber watched as Angel directed his attention to flirting with the bartender who didn’t seem to want any of it for a moment before directing his attention back to her. “You look pretty normal, minus the foxy bits. Wonder why?”

“The more you sin in life, the more you’re distorted in death.” Charlie offered offhandedly, clearly not comfortable with the topic of life. She was the princess of hell, Amber couldn’t help but wonder if that ment she was truly born here and never had a life. 

Were there others born here? Shit, could they have kids here? Not that she had interest in having sex with hulking winged cat men, multi armed pink fluffs or the various beasts she had ran from in the city. 

Radio static filled her ears for a moment and then there was a hot sticky breath over her shoulder. “Well, well, what have we here?” 

“Jesus, Fuck!” Amber lept out of her skin, launching herself away from the voice that had spoken right into her ear and nearly scared her to death. 

“He’s not here~” Came a singsong answer from the man that had somehow ended up behind her. “And I don’t believe he was interested in such activities,” He added, standing straight. 

He was a looming figure, putting a new perspective on towering over someone. He had to be seven feet tall and could be described as simply red. His hair was cut in a bob and red tipped with black. Tufts stuck up on either side of what looked to be tiny antlers. 

Continuing the red were two tone red eyes that blazed out from corpse pale skin. His skin wasn’t white in tone, like Charlie’s or as light as Amber’s. What had his skin looked like flushed with life? 

He wore a monocle of red glass that seemed to just hover in place and a red suit paired with a red pinstripe tailcoat. Everything was miraculously put together, right to the bowtie around his neck and yet the tails of his coat were shredded in places. 

The only thing that wasn’t black or red about him was his yellow smile, full of jagged teeth and cutting across his face in a way that looked threatening and decidedly not human. Not that she looked human herself. Or the pink fluff and cat man looked human either. 

This man was dangerous. She knew it as well as she knew her name but if anyone were to ask her why or how she knew it, there wasn’t any way she could put words to it. The man simply radiated danger, packaged in a well fitted suit and a smile. 

“Terribly sorry for giving you a fright, my dear.” She had no doubt in the world that he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. Still, he tossed a microphone tipped cane from his right hand to his left and offered the newly freed hand to her in greeting.

“It’s alright,” She didn’t know what else to say as she accepted his hand in what she expected to be a handshake. 

“Alastor! A pleasure to meet you, quite a pleasure indeed.” Rather than shake her hand, he ran his finger tips down the underside of her wrist and palm before grasping her fingers and pulling them up as he bowed down at the waist, placing a chaste kiss at her knuckles. 

“This is Amber.” Charlie offered as Amber struggled between the desire to run far away from this dangerous man and the self destructive urge to burn up in his presence. “She’s our newest guest. Alastor is-”

“Charlie’s hotelier. If you require anything at all my dear, do not hesitate to ask.” Alastor finished, finally letting go of her fingers as he stood again to his full height. 

“Heya, Toots.” Angel waved from the couch as Amber came down. It had been a week and she had a tentative friendship with these people who took her in like a stray dog. Well, most of them in some way at least. “What cha got going on today?” 

“I don’t know.” Amber shrugged, “Probably see where I can help out here.”

“Don’t you ever, you know, go anywhere?” He sat up, long legs flying through the air on their way to the ground with a fluidity that shouldn’t really be possible. 

“No.” Amber answered honestly. She hadn’t left the hotel once since she dragged herself up the hill in a desperate bid for safety. There wasn’t a need. 

“Why not?” Angel asked as Amber picked up whatever she could find to tidy up the space. It wasn’t needed but she had to do something to busy herself. 

She hadn’t left because she was scared but she didn’t want to admit that. 

“How long have you been dead?” Angel asked, instead. 

“Like, almost two months?” Amber whispered.

“You’re like, fresh, fresh meat, huh.” Angel whistled a bit. “It’s rough, the first few months, first year even. Shit’s scary. If you don’t find your feet, you get hurt and make mistakes.” 

It felt like he was talking very much from personal experience. “How about you?” 

“A good bit. Not as fresh as you, that’s what matters. Couple decades.” Angel was uncharacteristically serious at the moment. “You got lucky to end up here. I won’t ask what happened on your way here but you’re lucky to get here so fast. But don’t let this place become your prison either. A pretty cage is still a cage and all that shit.”

“It’s ‘a gilded cage is still a cage’” Alastor’s voice came somewhat annoyed from where he sat in an armchair, newspaper in hand. Amber was sure he hadn’t been there before.

The man terrified her no less today than he did upon their first meeting. 

“Whatever, Smiles. My point is, if you don’t want to go out on your own, that’s fine. But go out with one of us sometimes. Hell, do you even have another change of clothes? You gotta start living, not just existing. Go out, buy some clothes. I’ll take you, if ya want.”

“I couldn’t- I can’t. I don’t really have any money and I really don’t need anything, anyway. Really.”

“Crack may be expensive but I’m living rent free babycakes.” Angel smiled, pulling her from her chair. “And if you asked, I bet Charlie would pay you for what you do too.”

Shopping was far from a fun adventure, Amber discovered. She was smaller than so may in the realm. Off the rack clothes simply rarely fit her. And the pants that did, rarely had accommodations for a tail. It became clear that tailors and custom clothing was far more of a thing in hell than it had been in modern life. 

“Don’t worry Ears,” Angel walked with his lower arm draped around her shoulders. “We’ll get some snaps or buttons or something. A little snipping, sewing and you can button your pants around your tail. Then you won’t be walking around holding it out like you’ve got a dick up your ass.” 

“What a distasteful way to speak to a lady.” Alastor materialized out of shadows at Amber’s side, walking as if he had been with them the whole time. “But not an inaccurate description of how you’re holding your tail out, my dear.” Alastor’s clawed finger ran down the top of her tail as he leaned into her space only to dissolve into shadows and rise up a short distance away. “Did you manage to acquire anything for the lady that isn’t more appropriate for a lady of the night?”

“Styles change, old man.” Angel shot back. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” Alastor tsked as he approached them again, only to stop in front of them, blocking the sidewalk with his presence alone. They could walk around him, physically he was a thin man and the sidewalks were wide enough to accommodate beasts but somehow, that just didn’t feel possible. 

“You’re in the way.” Angel said as if it needed staying. 

“Am I?” Alastor’s grin widened. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

“What do you want?” Angel was clearly uncomfortable with the extended interaction. 

“Why, simply to ensure our lovely guest is properly provided for!” He laughed as if that was somehow a funny statement before holding out his hand toward Amber. “We’d not had a chance to get to know each other. How unfortunate! I’ve got to make a run to the tailor, you see. I simply need to pick up a few things. You’ll accompany me.” 

That last statement should have been a question but his tone didn’t hold any questioning. It was stated as a fact. It was clear that she had nothing but the illusion of choice. 

Amber’s hand trembled as she hesitated. Alastor started twitching his head from side to side, “Tick Tock, Dearie. Tick Tock.”

“Okay,” she slipped her hand into his timidly. Why did the creepiest man have to want to touch her?

“You don’t have to go with him Toots,” Angel said. She really didn’t think she had as much of an option as he seemed to think she had though. 

“She’ll be perfectly fine, don’t worry!” Alastor kissed her hand before raising from his folded bow and tucking her hand around his arm. 

[moonhowler]

Hello! Welcome to my page!

About me:

I'm an adult in my mid 20's. Even with that fact, I feel like a confused child struggling to keep up in life. Most of the time I have no idea what I'm doing, but that's ok!

I freaking love cartoons! My current hyperfixation is Hazbin Hotel. I recently created a Hazbin regressor oc.

I have both ADHD and autism.

I love reading and drawing agere content. I had a really tough start in life so this community gives me comfort.

Even though I would love to regress, I don't feel like I'm in a safe space to try it, so I think the term age dreamer suits me better right now. I really wish I could feel safe enough to regress though.

My first language is spanish. If there are any hispanic people around here, siéntete libre de hablarme en español.

Maya

Maya is my Hazbin Hotel oc. She died in her early 20's and her soul went to hell, her demon form having both wolf and sheep traits.

She has adhd, autism, ocd, and severe anxiety. She was never diagnosed in life and found out in hell.

She started regressing after dying. It was completely involuntary and it scared horribly because she had no idea what was going on. Her headspace being so young didn't help either. Charlie had to explain to her what age regression was after finding her hiding inside a box in an alley, she was crying and obviously regressed.

She was really embarrassed at first. She wasn't used to people taking care of her, but everyone was encouraging her to regress often to deal with her trauma.

Her little age is 0-3, so she sometimes struggles with walking and talking. She also needs protection, something she hates when is in the older range of her headspace. When she is younger she doesn't seem to care.

She is normally a very calm regressor. She likes to color, watch cartoons, and cuddle with her caregivers while being read to.

Her favorite caregivers are Vaggie and Husk, since they seem to understand her better than anyone else. She loves being with all the hotel staff though...except Alastor. He creeps her out and may end up bursting into tears if she is left alone with him.

Background:

Maya comes from a broken family. Her mom was cold, distant, and had severe mental issues that made her agressive. Maya, being the eldest of 5 siblings, had to basically raise herself and her little siblings all on her own when she was still a small child. She never met her father. He was arrested soon after she was born. He was charged with murder.

The town she lived in was small and word spread fast. Everyone was aware of her living situation and her father's sins, so she was mercilessly bullied throughout her life. She was always in emotional and physical pain. Kids were cruel, and were always trying to get a reaction out of her. To prove that behind her shy, scared and harmless appearance, there was a monster hiding inside of her. Like a wolf ready to pounce.

As she turned into an adult people her age stopped bothering her so much, just giving her nasty looks from time to time or completely ignoring her.

Maya was never a bad person. She was a loving sister, was always kind, and tried to keep a positive attitude even when people where awful to her. She was constantly smiling and trying to help others, even when her intrusive thoughts were always screaming that she was a monster and no matter how hard she tried or how guilty she felt, she would always be a horrible person.

Her life ended in a traffic accident. She was heading home after college when a reckless driver hit her. She didn't even flinch, she was convinced that she deserved death. The reason she went to hell and not heaven was because she deeply believes she doesn't deserve paradise.

She now currently lives in the Hazbin Hotel, where Charlie and all the original residents are trying to help her to go to heaven.

[hcfiles]

Ah! Mah Gad! The world is upside down. Once in a while, a follower here, who says they don't care, but shows hate for my content, gives me the vibe they believe Henry Cavill is an untouchable God, above the right and wrong, who can't be criticized as a public figure, what he is to all of us.

Is he your relative, friend or lover? No! Is he a saint brought to Earth to promote peace, by teasing fans and promoting hate on the internet with this circus? I doubt it. Is he a CIA double agent in a secret mission in Hollywood, whose goal is to promote the Industry as paradise?

If so, believe me. His mission is failing, 'cause it only brings more of the same and doesn't change the way Hollywood is now seen, for he was the first to follow Hollywood's rules by the book when accepting to be the face of Hollywood's escorting services. No big deal, right? Many actors do. Yes! But others are decent enough to deny it, preferring to preserve their image and appeal to talent .

Henry made escorting a job ruled by contract. He wasn't firm on his moral standards and he's not giving Hollywood a new dignified face. On the contrary! He's actually reinforcing what Hollywood really is: a brothel by promoting prost******n.

Every time he shows with a new chic promoting her as his girlfriend in a staged plot of his fake personal life, he's being not only hypocrite, but self-centered and promoting Hollywood's fake glamorous, wealthy life publicly, subjected to the public eye and criticism.

The message he sends is clear: "Worship me! I'm all you want, but you can't have! - Same speech reinforced by those haters coming to my page - " I'm a God, and Hollywood makes me famous as hell, boundlessly wealthy and successful with women, who are falling on their feet for their 15-min fame with me, as fruits fall from a tree".

True? In part. But, he, not only plays the arrogant womanizer, he also minimizes the importance of his profession, praising his Ego in the detriment of the actor, promoting the scum. It is exactly what Hollywood has done for years. They pump people's Ego so they, later, can use them as muppets to control them.

It's the dirty image Hollywood has had for years. Hollywood is not paradise and the acting career shouldn't be seen as amusement park. When an actor does that, he's lost for Hollywood and trapped on its web. These haters think I hate Henry Cavill just because I don't use pink lenses. That's the difference between us. I don't need to hate or dislike to have an impartial point of view, even when this point of view is not propitious to him.

[floofers-1]

One Piece: Dove

Summary: The brightest lights often illuminate at the moment things seem the darkest. After consuming a devil fruit a young celestial dragon is kicked out of Mariejois and things fall apart until when all hope seemed lost a certain pink bastard shows his face, pulls her from hell and into paradise.

Pairing: Donquixote Doflamingo x Saint Maria (OC)

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Human Trafficking, Original Devil Fruit, Romance, OCs, Torture, Death, Lore heavy

Notes: I decided to try posting some of my ao3 content onto Tumblr. This is the lore of my oc for a pairing with Doffy, I'm very normal about this man. The angstiest thing I'll probably ever post in terms of topics. Italics is either thoughts or emphasis on smth and I make it decently clear when it's thinking. Line breaks indicate time passing/ major scene change, Art done by my wife @wattabotta / Now with better dividers and and keep reading!

In the holy land of Mariejois, 16 years prior to the Straw Hats and Trafalgar Law overthrowing Dressrosa. Inside a large manor a 12 year old girl was harassing her father for what must have been the umpteenth time of the day. The girl wore a short white dress with floral patterns at the base of the skirt and cuffs of the slightly puffed shoulders. Her neck adorned with a silver necklace, her legs covered with a pair of white stockings that meet her black slightly heeled shoes. She had milky brown hair in an elegant braided bun on top of her hair with some bangs swept to the side.

“Father, pleaseeee I need that fruit!” She whined whilst tugging on her fathers white and gold coat. Her father groaned and rubbed between his eyebrows. He was normally not a man to deny his daughter anything, but the request this time simply felt unnecessary.

“Maria, how many times do we have to go over this?” Her fathers deep voice was laced with frustration. “You cannot consume one of those fruits no matter what power you may gain.” Her father then shoved her to the ground. “It was a mistake to let you read those fairy tales and an even greater mistake to let you look into that vile encyclopedia. You are a descendant of the gods. What use would that fruit have to you?! You have all the power in the world at your fingertips already, You can have endless slaves.” The man sat down in a large purple felt chair and without even needing to snap his fingers, a shirtless man crawled over and let his joints lay on the ground acting as a footstool. “Want a exotic pet, name it and it’s yours. Wish for someone’s execution, shoot them yourself and no one will bat an eye.” With one large clearing of his throat a cup of tea was placed in front of the man by yet another nearly nude male.

“You don’t understand papa! With that fruit, I’d be even more divine, no doctor in the world can give me what I need. That fruit is my only hope at being happy, life is worthless without it.” Maria’s brown eyes began to well up with tears.

“Maria, don’t you dare give me those fake tears. A young lady like yourself should not be crying at this age.” Maria’s father then snapped his fingers signaling a pair of slaves to rush forward and start a fire in the large and regal fireplace that stood a few feet away.

“What would mother think about you saying no to me!” Maria shouted, causing the room to fall silent and her father to rise.

“You spoiled brat!” Her father’s hand struck her face with a loud smack echoing in the room. Maria’s face stinging caused her to curl up and begin wailing, a few well dressed female slaves rushed over and attempted to comfort the sobbing girl. Seconds began stretching longer and longer as the wailing wouldn’t stop, each cry eating away at Maria’s father.

“Why don’t you love me father?” Maria’s gentle voice managed through sobs. That was the final straw; her father swooped in picking up Maria and rocking her. He simply couldn’t stand it anymore. She deserved what she wanted and he would get it for her however possible.

“I love you so much Maria. I’m sorry I hit you and said no. My baby girl deserves the world fed to her on a spoon if she wants. I’ll see what I can do to get you that fruit.” He cooed and gently began to hum as Maria clung to him.

“Thank you father! I love you too!” She continued to sob but this time out of joy. Her father sat down and let Maria sit in his lap while a slave brought over a transponder snail for the man.

“Let’s see what the navy can do for us.” He murmured while picking up the receiver and made a call.

It only took a month for the fruit to be found. It wasn’t all too sought after nor costly in berries. It was a fruit with little to no combative abilities, no pirate needed it except to brag about having a devil fruit to spare on board. No average citizen wanted to lose their ability to swim in the ocean over it. So it was only a matter of a one on one negotiation that certainly raised a few eyebrows. The pirate crew who did have it felt little need in keeping it but when they found out the navy wanted it clearly it meant something and thus the price began to rise and then stagnated. Once delivered to Mariejois a certain girl was over the moon.

“Father, look!” Maria cried as she jumped around, her hair rapidly grew longer than herself before returning to her natural hip length. “It’s perfect, I can style it how I want whenever! I’m not limited to the yearly waits and pains of the trash!” She spun around and danced while her hair fluctuated lengths.

“Yes it is beautiful Maria, but you have to promise me something.” Her father crouched down in front of Maria, his voice quiet and sprinkled with a hint of nervousness.

“What is it?” She raised her eyebrows slightly and attentively looked at her father, stopping her dancing.

“You must not let another dragon know about this. If you do, you cannot let them know how you obtained it.”

“Why?” Maria didn’t understand, part of the reason she wanted this fruit was to stand out and be the most beautiful lady in all of Mariejois, heck the whole world but that wouldn’t be hard since most of the world was filled with trash beneath her.

“If they found out you ate a devil fruit and I gave it to you, we could be kicked out of the holy land.” He began to sweat and panic at the idea. The only time someone had left the holy land permanently was that idiot from the Donquixote family who robbed his children of the life they had deserved. Maria began to shake at the thought of being removed from Mariejois, the idea of no longer being an all powerful celestial dragon simply couldn’t compute in her pampered brain. “So Maria, whatever you do, don't say a word.” At that moment, the clock began fast forwarding. The holy land of Mariejois felt more and more like a land mine when it came to mentioning Maria or why her father had begun to tighten his normally loose wallet until one fateful night.

“Father!” Maria screamed at the top of her lungs as she flailed against the marines now carrying her away. Her father meanwhile was bound to a pole with a pistol near his temple. “Let me go, you marines! Do you know who I am!?” Her struggles were futile. “They are going to shoot my father! Please stop them! He’s one of them and so am I! I’m a celestial dragon, put me down!”

“You were a celestial dragon.” A large man with a large marine jacket hanging off his shoulders spoke. “You then wasted that by consuming a devil fruit.” Maria’s eye’s both widened and shrunk. “To them and to us you're just some run of the mill commoner who’s tainted their blood.”

“Why are you taking me away, please help-!” Her voice went silent as a gunshot echoed over Mary Jois.

“Your father is being put down for tainting a dragon.” The large marine spoke once more and grabbed Maria by her head with one hand taking her away from the other marines. “Now you be quiet while we drop you off somewhere.” Was the last thing Maria remembers hearing before rudely waking up on a summer island in the middle of the grand line.

Through trials and errors she managed to fight for survival in the wilderness steering clear of the small town nearby for fear of what they might do to her. She recognized it. It was the island her father and her would visit for a 'mind opening experience'. Most of the time they simply abused the townsfolk for their goods and even killed a few who didn’t comply. They would surely recognize her if they saw her.

10 years prior to the chaos in Dressrosa. Maria, much to her reluctance, had become a somewhat capable outdoorsman. But one thing constantly remained an issue, she heavily lacked a green thumb and the ability to garden, thus leaving her reliant on stealing food from the townsfolk. Multiple incidents nearly revealed her identity and many nights she would go to bed hungry early on.

She had developed well despite the hunger; only losing a few inches to a foot in height from her lack of food early on. She had now started to concoct a plan to craft a small vessel and set sail across the seas in hopes of finding an island she could merge into and lay low. She was well aware she couldn’t return to Mariejois. Her father had constantly reminded her of that once she ate her devil fruit.

“That Donquixote boy was denied re-entry for his fathers actions, I’m positive the same would happen to you.”

It was just another evening for her. A little grab and go so she could eat. As the townsfolk prepared to close stalls but still sell was when they were most distracted. The evening started smoothly like any other. Most vendors didn’t even notice. She was sneaking down an ally to her final stop. The cured meat. It wasn’t her favorite but protein was protein. She took a deep breath and used the small puddle of water formed by gutter drippings as a mirror to see if the vendor had left or turned his back. She saw it, her split second opening. She swiped at some meat before her wrist was painfully cut off by a tight grip from a large hairy hand.

“Gotcha!” The meat vendor announced proudly to the whole street market. “We have our little thief!” He tugged Maria into the setting sun light. While she may have changed plenty of 6 years, the town immediately recognized her. “It’s you!”

“That celestial dragon brat has been stealing our stuff for the last few years!?” Another vendor shouted.

“If you’re stealing…” The meat vendor’s face contorted into a furious yet twisted smile. “That means you have no power anymore doesn’t it?” Maria was frozen, she was never able to properly hunt, when she did she was a trapper. Now she felt trapped herself. “Gather up the town! Tonight we have our revenge on our tormentor!” The townsfolk began to cheer loudly before Maria felt a heavy bonk on the back of her head.

Smoke and constraints aroused the girl from her unwanted slumber. She looked around in a panic. The sky was shimmering with stars, but black smoke began to pollute the skyline.

“She’s awake! The party can start!” One of the townsfolk notified the rest. Maria attempted to move but couldn't as she looked down, below her was a small sea of fire just barely missing her toes. Rope bound her to a tall post.

“Who gets first dibs!?”

“I got it!” She felt a smack and splat against her face as someone clocked her with a tomato that exploded against her. The crowd below her began to holler.

“Me next! She stole from my stall most often!” One woman protested and pelted Maria in the gut with a good sized rock. Quickly more and more rocks began to pelt and bruise Maria. She began to feel her eyes sting as the pain was rapidly becoming overwhelming.

“Please stop!” She wailed over the roaring mob which was greeted with laughter.

“Hear that everyone?!”

“She’s crying!”

“She’s begging trash like us to stop!”

“Give her hell!”

“She didn’t listen to our cries, why should we hers!”

Maria continued to take the onslaught, she had no choice and every single object that hit her chipped away little by little at her pride, her fire to survive. It was all her fault she was in this situation. Had she never gotten so greedy and wanted a devil fruit. She'd still be with her father happily in Mariejois. She wouldn’t have been stuck with this trash, forced to live below them.

“Hold on!” A feminine voice took over the crowd. The mob turned their heads to see a woman with blue hair pulling back an arrow in her bow. “Once the arrow is in. Aim for it.” The arrow whizzed in the air before piercing Maria in her right side, forcing a scream out of her. The mob followed up quickly by continuing their onslaught of rocks, vegetables and even a few attempted to take arrow shots.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice asked a townsfolk in the back.

“We found out a celestial dragon who tormented us was removed from Mariejois and has lived on our island for years stealing from us.”

“Oh a little revenge. Rather beautiful.” The voice’s owner, a large obese man with a hairy chest, a captain's hat, red coat and unusually long boots that merged at his hips, began to let out a hearty chuckle.

“Wait a minute- RUN IT’S THE BOOT PIRATES!!!” cried out the one townsfolk and caused a mass panic. The long booted figure made his way through the panic and kicked down the pole which constrained Maria who had fallen unconscious from the pain.

“I’ll be taking this, I bet the slave auction would go wild for you.” He once again let out a hearty laugh while he freed and re-constrained Maria before carrying her off to his ship.

The salt from the sea water poured into Maria’s nostrils waking her from yet another forceful slumber. “Hello?” Her voice was weak from her desperate please from the previous night.

“Oh you’re awake, good good.” The booted man sat opposite of Maria who was leant against a wall. “My doctor said you’ll be fine, maybe a scar or two on your hip where you were shot but alive.”

“Let me go, you pirate!” Maria attempted to flail only to hurt herself and wince.

“Lil lady. I just saved you from your own demise. You should be thanking me. Now you’re gonna help me out here. We’re on our way to Sabaody Archipelago, not too far from where we are now, just a few more days.” The man adjusted his boots while speaking. “I’m sure you would know all too well what lays there.”

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a celestial dragon!”

“Bwah hah hah!” The man couldn’t help but laugh at the pathetic sight in front of him. “You were! Seeing how those townsfolk treated you I bet there’s a sicko who’d pay big money to torture you for the rest of your life!” Maria sunk down and everything began to feel dull. From being thrown out by the celestial dragons, to tortured by townsfolk, to captive to a pirate crew and then to slavery. She had fallen all the way down to the bottom of the trash. “Don’t get too sad on me lil lady. I had some crewmates dig up dirt on you. You got devil fruit powers. Why don’t you show me. Let’s keep raising that price tag the auction house is gonna pay me.” Maria didn’t know what else to do and she complied and her matted hair began to slither on the floor. “Maybe some weird freak would love to use you for who knows what.” His chuckle felt much more ominous than before and Maria stopped using her power. “Why don’t we clean you up for the auction, I’ve got a few ladies on my crew. They can fix your hair and hide some of those bruises.” He stood laughing once more and leaving Maria alone with her thoughts for a moment. She may have soon been given company but nothing felt more insulting right now than being ‘dressed up’ to be auctioned off to some freak right now.

“Only 100,000 berries!? You’re killing me Disco!” The booted man’s shouts interrupted the head auctioneer who sported a weirdly shaped hat with flowers.

“I can’t even be sure she’ll sell for that! We don’t often get her crowd of people here.” Disco snarkily retorted. “Take it or leave it before it falls further.”

“Fine.” The booted man tossed Maria towards Disco who had two employees catch her.

“Careful with the merchandise.” Disco then let out a sigh as he contemplated how he was going to market this peculiar piece of merchandise. “Perhaps as a mystery main event? I can’t have her wait till the end. We have a very special and low patient guest today. I guess we’ll peak in the middle. Who knows maybe she won’t even sell and that will crush the auction. That damned boot.”

“We still do have a mermaid, remember. She’s under 30.” One employee calmly reminded Disco as he took Maria behind bars to wait for her turn.

“Oh yes, beautiful. Mermaid after her to recover incase of failure.”

A large pink ship anchored at Grove One of Sabaody. The ship’s head is a flamingo wearing red sunglasses with oddly shaped white frames. The sides had large wing designs. And the jolly roger was a simple circle with one line of teeth for the bottom, two eyes and a line through the left eye.

“Is that the Donquixote pirates?” A passerby began to sweat as they headed to the auction house.

“Yeah. What are they doing here… Didn’t their leader become a warlord of the sea recently?”

“Keep your head down and just get to the auction house, they might hear you idiot!” One passerby whispered.

“Young master, we have arrived.” a young woman calmly stood in the doorway of the captain's quarters and informed the captain. A blonde male with very short hair. His legs on top of his desk and crossed at his heels. He was leaning back with his hands in the pocket of his white pants. A white dress shirt unbuttoned showed his tan chest. A massive pink feather coat draped over his shoulders and red sunglasses hid his eyes. He gave the woman a large toothy grin as he slowly uncrossed his legs and rose.

“Wonderful, for how long a trip it is here from Dressrosa, it’d have better been worth it.” His arrogant voice filled the room. His oddly wide steps as he made his way out of the captains quarters and onto the main deck, making him stand out even more.

“Would you like anything prepared while you're at the auction young master?” The woman bowed down whilst the man's pink coat fluttered by her nose.

“Have the ship ready to leave for Dressrosa at a moment's notice.” He ordered while he walked down the stairs to the main deck and then off the ship to the auction house.

The auction house itself was bustling with activity as many a noble clambered for seats, word had spread about the mystery and that there was also a young mermaid. Bright lights engulfed the main stage where Disco stood with a microphone in one hand and using the other to hide his mouth as he conversed with a few employees on the order of items and any last minute needs. The man with the feathered coat entered and sat above in an extravagantly large red chair with a view of the entire audience and stage. A single employee wordlessly bowed and offered a list of the items to the man who lazily took it while relaxing into the large chair, one hand holding the list so he may scan it, the other being propping up his head while he leant on the arm of the chair.

Ambient music began and the lights on the stage dimmed ever so slightly leaving one brighter patch where Disco stood.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. We have a very special auction for you tonight, our normally biggest fish, a young female mermaid, is number two to our main event!” The audience cheered and murmured in excitement about the mermaid and possibilities of what this main event could be. “Now it’d only be fitting for a big auction like this to start big!” The curtains that acted as a backdrop began to rise revealing a giant.

Maria who was slumped and chained against a wall heard the excitement of the auction faintly. She couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge that many of the other items were glaring at her. Her kind most often bought and toyed with them and they were so close to being able to get a little catharsis, yet so far. Little by little the cage she was held in became emptier and emptier and she felt the life drain from her more and more, her eyes had long since grown dull and tired from the whirlwind that was her last few days. The bleak reality that laid in front of her weighed her down.

“It’s your turn c’mon.” An employee jostled Maria who lazily shuffled along what may as well be death row for her. The excited murmurs of the crowd growing louder, she could now begin to make out the head auctioneer’s sell job.

“The moment you’ve been waiting for has finally arrived, it’s time to meet tonight’s special item, we’ve had this young lady properly appraised and everything I’m about to tell you is true to the letter.” The man in the feathered coat rolled his eyes. The auction had long become dull. “Tonight’s main event has fallen ungracefully from the holy land of Mariejois! She has consumed a devil fruit and just turned into a mature woman if you catch my drift!” The crowd was silent and something had finally caught the man with the feathered coat’s attention, as Maria stepped onto the stage before being thrust down onto her knees. 

Disco continued to try his best and sell Maria while unease and whispering began to fill the auction house. “I’m sure plenty of you have encountered a celestial dragon in your time here at this very auction house, seeing how they can rip away anything of yours on a whim.” Disco spoke carefully, despite no dragons showing for this auction, you could never be too careful. “Wouldn’t you like to see one grovel at your feet? One beg you for the torment you put it through to stop? Or perhaps you have some acquired taste.” Disco turned to Maria who was blankly staring towards the crowd. It almost insulted her more that no one had jumped at the chance to own her. Was she not even good enough to be a slave? “Would you be so kind as to show us that devil fruit of yours?” Maria complied and her hair that had been cut to her waist snaked its way down before slithering along the floor a few feet around her, her hair having separated into small sections reminiscent of flower petals. “This item is a once in a lifetime opportunity, no joke, we get mermaids now and then but a celestial dragon who fell from grace? We may never see this again in the history of the world! Why don’t we get this auction started, do I have 200,000 Berries!?” The crowd hushed and Maria began to tremble, she was worth more than that and yet no one even bothered to bid. Were they afraid of her? How could they be she had no power.

“I’ll give you a bag of seeds instead.” One audience member had broken the silence. Greeted by a few muffled posh laughs that spread through the auction house.

“Would a stone be above that?” The snarky comments poured in, Maria allowed her head to droop and amidst everyone cracking jokes a well dressed gentleman had snuck on stage and towered over Maria.

“I’ll give you one berry for her.” His posh voice was tainted with sarcasm as he pulled out a pistol he had tucked away in his suit. Maria finally decided to speak and verbalize her frustration.

“You dare compare me to the stones you walk on, then offer a single berry for a divine being like myself?” Maria’s voice and body was trembling with rage as she looked up and stared down the pistol. Her tired pupils seemed so small and shook. A broken, infuriated smile had taken over her lips.

“Precisely.” The man shook the pistol in an attempt to threaten Maria. Maria simply began to wheeze out a laugh.

“You don’t have it in you.” Maria taunted whilst the gentleman raised an eyebrow and readied the pistol.

“I don’t? Watch your mouth slave.”

“None of you could possibly pull that trigger!” Maria became hysterical as she stared down death. “You are all filth and dirt on the bottom of my feet!” Even if nothing mattered with death moving in for her she had to die with her pride. “I am divine! So go ahead kill a god! You can’t!” Maria’s words were drowned out as the gun fired. Everything felt like it froze. The bullet inched closer and closer and Maria dared not flinch. Just as the bullet would have met its target, it stopped mid air.

“W-what?” The gentleman had begun to freak out as not only had his bullet stopped and suddenly dropped to the floor, his own hand began to point his gun towards himself. A haunting chuckle took over the auction house as the pink coated man made his way down the stairs and to the stage.

“That was quite the performance, little lady.” Maria stared towards her savior. With one hand in his pocket and the other contorting and almost dancing in the air while the gentleman’s mouth opened and the gun placed inside.

“J-Joker please I apologize for the chaos, this never happens.” Disco begged his superior for forgiveness.

“Apologize? Had this not happened I would have left this snooze fest.” The audience began to murmur as they recognized the recently appointed warlord of the sea, the captain of the Donquixote pirates, Donquixote Doflamingo. Maria couldn’t help but feel like the now spotlight on her savior made him radiant. A muffled please don’t came from the gentleman before one more bang rang out and the gentleman fell backwards, blood leaking onto the floorboards of the stage. “Now keep the auction going, we’re at one berry.” Doflamingo commanded as he struts around Maria getting a proper look.

“D-do we have any other bids?” Disco's voice trembled for a moment as he collected himself. The audience remained silent. No one dared to challenge for a bid, it all was superficial and mattered not, they knew whatever they said would be out bid. By this point Doflamingo had already decided he’d out bid anyone, why risk upsetting such a pirate. While Disco desperately tried to get the audience to bid, Doflamingo squatted down behind Maria.

“W-what do you want?” Maria had finally had her adrenalin rush fade and felt the fear of being so close to such a pirate, yet that fear swealed in her stomach, it contorted into a knot of fear and joy.

“They don’t litter my wanted poster all over of Mariejois as a warning then? That’s a shame.” His deep chuckle after he spoke reverberated in Maria’s chest and she had finally clued in.

“Y-you’re Donquixote Doflamingo?” Suddenly that fear quelled a little, perhaps someone like him understood her struggle. Maybe, just maybe she’d not live surrounded by trash but by someone like her once more, someone divine.

“In the flesh, tell me your name Dove.” Maria’s heart began to flutter at the idea, the hope of hearing her name come from this god behind her, he had already blessed her with hope and a new name if he cared not for her current one.

“Saint Maria.” She was quick to answer, she needed him to save her once more, she couldn’t stand the idea of knowing he had been right behind her, his warm breath passing by her ear and then having to leave his side and be below the trash that lacked any respect for her.

“Already so obedient.” Maria could hear the smirk forming on his lips. Disco had looked defeated, not only had he failed to sell such a unique item, he did so in front of his boss, surely his life was at stake. “Disco.” His body and mind halted. “I’ll cut you a deal since I’m in such a good mood. I’ll reimburse you her cost if I get to take her with me.” Maria’s eyes had widened, the brown color no longer dull but restored. Disco rapidly began to thank his boss for the bailout and ordered some employees to remove Maria’s restraints as well as the self detonating collar via Doflamingo’s request.

“We shall take a short break to clean up and then return.” Disco informed the bidders who stayed seated as Doflamingo walked by with Maria right beside him. His hulking figure made the normally tall woman seem so small, so frail.

“I think that was enough of this snore fest don’t you?” Doflamingo asked Maria who nodded and let out a mhm sound.

“Young master, I see you found something interesting at today's auction. We are ready to sail, would you like me to prepare her?” The woman from before bowed and asked.

“Yes, get her out of those rags she was given then send her to my quarters.” Doflamingo waved the two women off while he went to his quarters.

“Come this way.” The woman led Maria down to a servant room where there were two bunks, one empty the other for the woman leading Maria. “I see the young master removed your collar.”

“Yes, I am indebted to that gracious man.” Maria swooned as she was assisted with changing into a simple pink dress with a feather pattern at the bottom. “Are you also from the auction house?” Maria was so over the moon about being free from that torment she hadn’t really taken in her situation.

“I was yes.” The woman furrowed her eyebrows as she walked around Maria thinking. “I can’t believe your collar was removed so fast, he must like you. So what’s your story.” The woman began making slight adjustments to the dress’ fit on Maria.

“I’m a-” Maria cut herself off. “I was a celestial dragon, just like him.” She may still be divine but after everything she has begun to resent associating with them. The woman nearly choked on her own spit. “Don't ruin this dress, I need to continue my good first impression.” Maria almost panicked at the thought of upsetting her savior.

“Y-yes I understand.” The woman finally understood why the lady in front of her was so special, why she was freed of her slave collar. She had her own unique collar already within a matter of minutes, infatuation. The only reason she could assume the young master had purchased her must have been for some deep personal reason, after all why would a king need to buy a slave when he had a country at his feet now. “Would you be so kind as to let me style your hair?” The woman had hoped her request wasn’t crossing boundaries, she had accompanied the young master before and seen how nobles acted.

“You want to style my hair?” Maria’s eyes sparkled with excitement, she had never had someone other than her mother and the slaves do her hair and only her mother ever asked, the slaves were all ordered so her father didn’t deal with her. “Go ahead, If you need more or less for what you wish to do let me know I’ve got a bit of a talent.” She giggled before skipping onto a bunk sitting at one end while the woman sat at the other and began to work relieved to have not upset the potential landmine in front of her.

“We should be done. What do you think?” The woman gently inquired, while she was proud she still worried for the thoughts of her canvas.

“It's…” Maria went silent as she admired her hair. It had been braided almost like a crown along the sides of her head before meeting at the back in a bun that looked almost like a rose. “Unbelievable. I might just have to keep you as my own personal stylist.” Maria, still over the moon, had let her drilled in dragon mannerisms slip away and shone a bright smile to the woman. “Maybe not all people outside of Mariejois are trash.” The woman felt a sting in her eyes.

“T-thank you, p-please go on and don’t keep the young master waiting.” Maria hopped up and exited the cabin onto the main deck absorbing last embers of the setting sun. Behind that spoiled and bratty exterior was a little girl who dreamed of being a princess, ushered away from the woes of the world by a prince. The woman thought as she sat on her bunk collecting herself she still had to bring dinner and could not allow a moment of weakness just yet, not when the young master could call upon her.

Maria made her way up to the captain’s quarters. She gently knocked on the door twice, getting muffled enter from behind the door. As she entered she did her best to curtsy. It had certainly been a few years so she was a little out of practice but nonetheless she had earned a minor chuckle.

“C’mere.” Doflamingo ushered Maria to his side where a stool sat, she made her way over and sat down, her nervous mind a wreck, she was sitting right beside him again. This time no longer chained but free, how should she act, how would he want to be addressed, he did buy her from the auction, was she just a slave to him? Doflamingo simply watched the gears turn in Maria’s head while he himself pondered the goal of this acquisition. It was a rare heat of the moment action for him, he didn’t need a servant, he would have plenty in Dressrosa, he certainly didn’t need a plaything woman threw themselves at him in Dressrosa, he was their king. Perhaps simply having her belong to him was all he needed, yes that was all the reason he needed.

“Young master?” Maria had settled on this being the best approach, it was what the slave had called him, while she hated the idea of being on equal footing this felt like her best option. That certainly had a nice ring to it, but if she was truly something so special to him, perhaps she could skip a few steps on the ladder she would much rather address such a spectacular man by his name, maybe even a nickname one day when she was far more sure of her stability. This situation, while a blessing, was far more harrowing to navigate then surviving in the wilderness. How else do you treat a god than utter obedience, but when you’re divine yourself how do you attempt to keep equal footing. It had simply been so long since she was in a position to have wiggle room, a voice to be heard. Doflamingo raised a brow and gave a hum of acknowledgement. “What exactly is our arrangement?” Maria began to hold her breath, did she dare speak her mind clearer, and risk being seen as biting the hand that saved her. She must, she isn’t just some ordinary slave. She was divine herself, he would respect that to some degree surely. “I would ideally not like to be another run of the mill slave-” A finger pressed against her lips quieting her oncoming rambling.

“My dear Dove.” That nickname once again, her heart skipped a beat, his deep voice had rapidly become a soothing sound on her ears, no matter the undertones. “Our arrangement is such. You are mine, you do as I say and I’ll give you what you desire.” He was what she wanted, to stay by his side. That was security, that was safety. She couldn’t help but stare into his lenses, while all she saw was her, it still gave her comfort that he was looking back behind those crimson shades. He removed his finger from her lips, as if to signal her to respond.

“I understand.” She hesitated for a second, nervous that this was a mistake but finished her sentence. “Doflamingo.”

Sailing back to Dressrosa, was a simple journey for the experienced crew but certainly became more annoying with the ever growing comfortable mini-flamingo onboard. Maria while not nearly as cruel as Captain Doflamingo was, she was however at times unreasonable and drove the crew off the wall when she wasn’t contained in the captain’s quarters, instead constantly talking her mouth off or even once she attempted to lend a hand during a cannon fight with another ship once across the Red-Line into the New World. Her assistance only cost them a shot, her miss so terrible that while she was being scolded by one of the actual cannon operators Doflamingo’s laugh dominated the soundscape. While Maria was starting to gel and freshen up her social skills as well as her dragon mannerisms. Doflamingo had much to consider, while he was certainly confident word in Dressrosa would stay in Dressrosa about the king having a personal attendant, what would more powerful forces say. Would the navy dare bare their teeth at him? Would a future customer attempt blackmail? One thing was certain, once Maria had stepped foot onto Dressrosa she would never take another step off without him there. This woman had stolen a minute corner of his brain and needed to be caged properly, it wouldn’t be hard, she was already indebted to him. Just a few simple tugs in the right direction.

The Donquixote ship had finally docked at Dressrosa late into the night, Maria was out cold on a couch in the captain's quarters, the smell of burning wax of a candle and the lingering scents of Doflamingo on the cushions had sent her into a deep slumber. With a few hush orders, Maria was carried off to a room in the castle he had requested made for her. She needed to be close but she couldn’t be too close, he had already felt himself becoming too attached to the woman. With quick flicks of his fingers he soared through the night sky, skipping off his own strings to the castle.

Maria could barely wake up when the sun was dancing through a window onto her face. The lush bedding, the silky and fluffy pillows, the warm and heavy blankets had her wrapped up in the idea of sleeping in. The smell of breakfast forced her awake, sweet maple syrup, starting to melt butter and the aroma of powdered sugar, pancakes. Maria rolled over to see a tray, with three stacked fluffy pancakes and an icy glass of water dripping with condensation. It was like she was a little girl all over again, a luxurious bed and breakfast warm and ready to draw her away from resting more. As she sluggishly sat up she examined the golden tray, it held her breakfast and required utensils as well as a note and timetable? It was littered with schedules and names of people she had no idea of. Only one name was recognizable and that was Doflamingos. His schedule was simply torn out. As she examined the note she noticed the tears at the edges. ‘Welcome home Dove.’ It read on one side but flipped. It was a schedule but not a single slot was filled, but there was one more section of writing. ‘Enjoy your present.’ What present? The door clicked and opened, in the doorway was the woman from before.

“My lady, may I enter?” She bowed in the doorway. Maria put two and two together based on how she was addressed.

“Yes you may, would you be able to fill me in. Doflamingo certainly left plenty out when we discussed our arrangement.” Maria sunk her fork into the delicate pastry before her, carving out a piece and indulging her hunger for quality food.

“Of course.” The woman shut the door behind herself and pulled a stool opposite of Maria before she began to explain the situation to the girl before her. “You are in the kingdom of Dressrosa where the young master reigns as king. I have been assigned to be your personal servant, I will be at your beck and call for whatever you may need.” Maria nodded as she continued her delectable breakfast. It was nice to have a slave back under her control, but she couldn’t help but feel like perhaps her years of isolation and this woman's gentle attitude had earned her a slightly better title than slave in her mind. Was she being too soft? That was something to discuss with Doflamingo, a good reality check. “Once breakfast is completed I will help you prepare for the morning. The young master instructed me to give you a tour of the castle and introduce you to the family.”

“The family?” Maria spoke after a large swallow.

“Anyone who is a higher up in the Donquixote pirates is part of the young masters family, the one exception being you.” The woman borrowed the blank schedule and pulled a pen from her apron and drew a little higher-archy. “The young master is the top, followed by the top executives and then below them are the standard executives. You stand somewhere between here.” The woman drew a line with two sides of arrows pointing between Doflamingo and the top executives. “I know a lady as radiant as yourself would like to be as high as the young master.” Maria pursed her lips a moment before letting out a deep breath from her nose, the woman began to sweat slightly, worried she had already upset her new master.

“That…” Maria paused and then relaxed her shoulders. “Is acceptable.” The woman let out a sigh of relief. She had no idea what she was getting into, she’d had served Doflamingo and he was certainly a special man who she could not afford slip ups with. This young lady seemed to have more patience than him, but she was a celestial dragon like the young master was, nature or perhaps the young master had softened and reigned her in already. “I have a request for you.”

“Whatever it is, consider it done my lady.”

“I’d like your name.”

“Penny, my lady.”

“Well Penny.” Maria rose from the bed as she had finished her breakfast. “Shall we pick out something cute? I have no idea about the fashion in Dressrosa, or how I should do my hair.” Maria headed over to a large wardrobe.

“Of course.” Penny quickly accompanied her new master. “We can go to the market if you’d like later and properly fill this up.”

“That would be wonderful.” As Maria scanned the half filled wardrobe it was very clear to her she only had her necessities and some of them certainly seemed a little personal. “Any suggestions?”

“It will get warm in the afternoon…” Penny’s voice tailed off as she thought and looked through the wardrobe, taking out a pair of rather short pink shorts, knee high socks, pastel pink mary janes with a small platform, a nearly white but hinted pink short sleeve dress shirt and the piece de-resistance a pink coat with a feathered collar and cuffs. “You can put the jacket around your waist if you get too warm.” Maria snagged the clothes eagerly.

“Wonderful, turn around now while I change.” Penny did as told and turned, she took a couple steps forward grabbing an expensive looking hair brush that sat on a small pillow, the pillow lay on a desk with a mirror and stool for Maria to sit and pamper herself if she so chose. The sound of fabric slipping off and shuffling was all that was in the room as Maria had changed. “I’m thinking, something simple and classic for my hair today.”

“A ponytail and bow sound good my lady?” Penny opened a draw scanning through the assortment of accessories, finding a large silky pastel pink bow.

“Very good.” Maria sat in the stool once changed and allowed Penny to swiftly work. “What is the family like?”

“They all are wonderful, perhaps a little intense.” the soft sound of the gentle bristles running through Maria’s hair accompanied Penny’s voice. “I should prepare you for two specific members' special traits however.” Maria hummed in response. Her legs gently swayed. “Master Pica has a rather high voice, it’d be in your best interest to not comment and Master Trebol does not understand personal space.” Penny finished brushing and began to contain Maria’s hair high on the back of her head.

“I will hold my tongue, I suppose, if that would make Doflamingo happy.” Maria sighed, it was a sacrifice she’d have to make, if Doflamingo considered them family, maybe it’d end up like Penny, a pleasant individual.

“It would be very important to the young master.” Penny stepped back once the ponytail was in place. “My lady you look wonderful, shall we begin the tour?” Maria stood and nodded as she walked back to her bed and grabbed the time table, putting names to faces would be important, this was her new family after all.

The tour was swimming along, Maria had found the library, the kitchen, dining hall and throne room. All unoccupied at the moment. Marias tour continued to the garden where a few servants were at work pruning flowers, trimming hedges and watering needs.

“It’s beautiful out here.” Maria wandered around peering over the shoulders of servants and squatting down at certain flowers for smells. “I’m unfamiliar with all of these plants. Are they all from here?”

“Yes, all flora is native to Dressrosa.” Penny then showed Maria a large hedge in the shape of a flamingo getting a snort from the lady.

“Charming.” She managed through a few gentle giggles as she covered her mouth partially with her hand.

“The young master has splendid taste, no?”

“He certainly does.” Maria agreed, her laughter was not in fun of her savior, she found it adorable. This big bad pirate had a gentle and serene garden with hedge art of his animal namesake, it very much pleased her.

“M’lady could I interest you in a hedge for yourself?” One of the gardening servants asked Maria. Who jumped on the idea.

“Yes please, would you be able to make a dove?”

“Most certainly, I shall request your presence once completed.” The gardener went to work post haste.

“I missed having such a wonderful garden at my fingertips.” Maria continued to wander the garden sitting on the edge of a large stone fountain. “My father would garden with me, it was one of the rare times he didn’t delegate me to my mother or the slaves.”

“Is there a plant you would like to add? I can arrange for us to grow it, my lady.” Penny pulled out a notepad, ready to make arraignments right there. Maria put a finger to her chin and thought. Most flora from Mariejois was of no interest to her anymore, this was an opportunity to explore, she had all the flora in the world at her fingertips.

“Give me a few days of going through some almanacs and I’ll give you an answer.” Maria had decided on not deciding for now. She simply absorbed the rays of sun that warmed her.

“Of course.” Penny returned her notepad to her apron. “We should continue our tour, by now I’m sure a few members of the family should be at the pool.” Maria hopped up, the idea of sitting by the water absorbing the sun sounding spectacular.

By the time the two had arrived at the pool the hustle and bustle of the castle had picked up and Maria could finally hear muffled voices.

“Do you think Doflamingo will be there?” Maria hoped out loud to Penny.

“Possibly, I have no idea what he is up to today.” The young master wouldn’t dare wander too far on your first day, you may not see him but he’ll be there my lady. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I will be fine.” Maria took her first step into the pool area, the sun dancing off her. The pool was crystal clear minus the effeminate looking boy with horns swimming and long chairs lay ready for company to tan. An excessively large couch sits at the end of the pool nearest the entryway. Off to the left was a large man with buck teeth that had the jolly roger of the Donquixote pirates on them. He seemed to be teasing a young teenage female with black hair.

“Buffalo, would you shut your mouth!” The black haired one shouted while she stomped her foot.

“It was an honest question Baby 5, you're getting to the point where it’s weird you haven’t had your first boyfriend.” Buffalo simply continued his teasing much to Baby 5’s dismay.

“Oh yeah?!” Baby 5 looked to Maria. “You, settle something for us!” Maria pointed at herself confused. “Yes you, get over here.” Maria made her way over. “You look like a well put together lady, when did you have your first boyfriend?” Maria was taken aback, no what's your name just straight into this childish struggle. However one problem remained, Maria would be no help in this argument.

“Well about that.” Maria began before Buffalo let out a dumb laugh and cut Maria off.

“You haven’t had one yet either?!” He taunted, Maria was fuming with anger and embarrassment, her cheeks had begun to feel warm. She bit her tongue for a moment, reminding herself to hold her tongue. She simply couldn’t afford to upset anyone just yet, but this guy was clearly just an officer, she should stand her ground.

“You dare taunt me like that, do you know who I am?” She retorted only to get a response that blew her top off.

“You’re the young master's new play thing!” Maria had already had enough of this dope, but before she could exact her revenge his laughter was cut off by Baby 5 jamming her fist into his gut.

“Don’t bother with him, he’s always like this. Head in the clouds.” Baby 5 sighed before properly greeting Maria. “You’re the newest addition to the family, Dove. I’m Baby 5.” Maria felt her chest twinge in delight, she was his dove and that's how he introduced her to his family, how wonderful.

“Thank you for that.” Maria focused herself back on the conversation at hand. “You’re the first members of the family I’ve met other than Doflamingo.”

“Oh then you are in for a very fun afternoon. Most of my family is out around this time.”

“Why, this castle so far seems wonderful.”

“There's the colosseum for starters, that’s where Diamante spends most of his time. Trebol has been glued to Sugar.” As Baby 5 continued to list off where members of the family were Maria’s head span as she attempted to intake the information. “Uh are you alright?” Maria snapped back to reality, she must have begun going cross eyed and looked like smoke was coming out of her ears.

“Of course.” Maria attempted to dismiss the idea she was overwhelmed very unconvincingly. “Just with so many members perhaps observing a dinner or something would be a little easier to digest.” Penny couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the irony of her master's words. “So, who's the one swimming?” Maria pointed to the still swimming boy.

“That’s little Dellinger, he’s a fighting-fish fish-man.” A fish-man, he certainly didn’t look as fishy as many other fishman she had seen as slaves.

“My lady, if I may intrude, we still have other sites to see.” Maria nodded to acknowledge her servant.

“I will be off then, it was a pleasure to meet you Baby 5, we should sit and chat over tea sometime.” Maria smiled before following Penny off.

“How was your first taste of the family?” Penny inquired while leading Maria down from the pool area and through the castle.

“It was fine, they seemed nice enough. Baby 5 seemed a bit young to be a pirate, no?” Maria emphasized enough before she allowed her curiosity to continue.

“The young master takes anyone with potential, Buffalo and Baby 5 have been part of the family since they were much younger. They had another child with them for a while, I am unsure what happened to him however.”

“So he’s like an older brother to them?”

“Exactly. Now after the royal plateau, where would you like to stop by?” Penny asked as she and Maria stepped into an elevator.

“Do we have money on us? I’d love to have a good shopping spree.” It sure had been a long time since she could freely roam a market.

“Of course, would you like me to request for a toy to help carry your things?”

“A toy?” Maria raised an eyebrow, how would a toy help?

“Oh yes you are new, my apologizes my lady. Dressrosa is a very wonderful place where we have walking, talking toys.”

“Then absolutely, and one for when my feet get tired.” Maria wiggled her toes in excitement at the idea of such large toys. Penny nodded and made a call on a small transponder snail from her apron. 

The market of Dressrosa was certainly lively, people and toys both intermingling, dancing, playing music, the streets were certainly packed but wherever Maria stepped the space always cleared up, much to her delight, she couldn’t imagine having to shove her way through. Her shopping started off slow as she was unsure just how deep her coffers were but when Penny assured her it was all taken care of by Doflamingo she simply couldn’t help herself, whether the item was something for her or something she thought Doflamingo might enjoy on her. She was having a grand time, this is what it meant to be alive, what she wanted when she wanted. Once she had her fill of shopping, the toys were sent off to the royal plateau where castle servants would receive Maria’s bounty.

“The colosseum should be nearing the end, I think it’d be wonderful for you to go watch. You should be able to go watch in Doflamingo’s personal observation deck.” Penny offered to keep her lady busy till dinner.

“Ohh, let’s make haste!” The two quickly made their way to the colosseum where video transponder snails were projecting the action inside between gladiators. A woman was working the reception as Maria and Penny approached.

“I’m sorry but seats are all-” The woman was cut off by Maria butting in.

“Excuse me?” This was her moment, the first instance of disrespect by someone below her that she could tell off. “Do you have any idea who I am?” The receptionist clued into Penny standing beside Maria, properly intaking the sheer amount of pink on the woman in front of her.

“Have more respect for the young master’s mistress.” Penny advocated while Maria had her chest lightened at the comment of being Doflamingo’s mistress.

“I-I’m so terribly sorry, please right this way.” The receptionist led the way to Doflamingo’s private nest.

“That’s better.” Maria huffed as she followed. “You are lucky I’m in a good mood this afternoon.”

“T-thank you for your forgiveness, everything you’ll need is in here.” The receptionist stopped at a door which Penny opened for Maria. The room was simple, it had a large chair that overlooked the entire colosseum, a pair of hanging candles and a carpet from the door to the chair. Maria leaned over the balcony deciding it’d be best not to sit in the chair, she was simply going to struggle to view over the railing. The roaring crowd over the sounds of blades clashing and blood splattering on the ground sent a small shiver up Maria’s back. This was beautiful, people fighting and dying for her entertainment, oh how she missed it.

“My lady, may I fetch anything for you?” Penny asked from behind the chair.

“Guard the door. I don't want to be disturbed unless it’s someone important.” Penny nodded and stood by the door while Maria felt her stomach twist in sadistic pleasure, it was slowly but surely coming back to her, while she had to remind herself to stay aware of the family, this was exactly what she needed. “Penny, there is one thing you could do for me actually.”

“What is it my lady?” Penny quickly sprang to attention.

“I need a chair, Doflamingo’s is simply too big for me, I'd struggle to see over the railing.”

“Right away.” Penny was gone in a flash while Maria continued to contently watch as the gladiators below dwindled down faster and faster. She heard a knock and turned her head, her ponytail slipping over her shoulder. “Who is it?”

“Penny and I have an important guest with me.” Was slightly muffled behind the door.

“You may enter.” Maria fully turned and tossed her hair behind her as Penny and a very tall Brunette with a long cape and fancier pirate attire themed like diamonds entered.

“This is master Diamante, he’s in charge of the colosseum and like you know from this morning a top executive.”

“So you’re Doffy’s Dove.” Diamante approached extending a hand. “A pleasure, does today’s entertainment suffice?”

“It’s exceptional.” She gently took his hand giving a shake. He seemed rather pleasant, Penny hadn’t warned her about any odd quirks which was a relief judging by the other Family she had heard off and seen. “You have an eye for proper entertainment.”

“No no, it’s nothing.” He insisted, Maria walked to the railing again and Diamante followed.

“You do, this is spectacular, I haven’t felt this much of a rush in forever.” Maria protested as she gazed out.

“Really there’s no need, it's nothing.” He continued to fight off her compliments.

“If you say so.” Maria then flinched as Diamante raised his voice in acceptance.

“Okay fine fine! It is spectacular, I have an eye for good entertainment!” Maria shook her head before sneaking a glance to Penny who shrugged like oops I forgot about that, warranting a small glare from her master.

“So.” Maria went to change the subject, getting a hm from Diamante. “You called him Doffy, do you think I could call him that too.” She placed her hands on her cheeks at the idea of getting to call him such an adorable nickname. Diamante snickered a little before commenting.

“You are his Dove aren’t you? You hold almost as much power as the top executives, I don’t think he’d give a crap what you called him.” Maria swung one of her legs up and down in joy as she leaned over the railing. Her mind starts to get lost at the idea of sitting in her Doffy’s large lap watching the violence below, her hair being stroked. She gently cooed Doffy as she stroked her own hair completely entranced.

“My lady, do not get lost in daydream mid conversation.” Penny’s voice jolted Maria back to reality where she pulled her hair over her face in utter embarrassment only warranting more taunting laughter from Diamante.

“And the battle is over!” The announcer’s voice concluded the entertainment at the colosseum.

“I suppose I shall make my way back to the palace.” Diamante’s laughter had subsided. “I look forward to you joining the family at dinner.” He informed her before departing. Maria silently screamed as Penny approached.

“We should return as well, I’m sure the young master will be there as well as the entire family.” Maria simply nodded, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets as the two left.

Once outside the already packed dining hall Maria heard a familiar voice behind her. One that had shoved any other embarrassment that lingered away.

“How was my Dove’s first day in Dressrosa?” Doflamingo’s question was superficial, after all he dared not let his Dove walk Dressrosa with a slave. Regardless of where she was, he was always watching. Maria quickly spun, her hair twirling behind. Her eyes light up brightly, it had simply been too long without him.

“Doffy!” She shouted happily, clasping her hands together excitedly. “It was good, I missed you though, she’s fine company but it would have been better with you there.” She gestured towards Penny before back to Doflamingo he chuckled lightly, his large hand gently tracing a finger along her delicate cheek.

“Can’t even go a few hours without me can you?” Maria’s cheeks flared up a vibrant pink, only more amusing to Doflamingo. “I figured you’d enjoy a day like you used to have.”

“A-and I did, I just would've much preferred spending the day with you.” Maria looked away twirling her fingers in her hair to cope with her overwhelming flusteredness, her rapidly beating heart, her body temperature rising, it was all so much around him. “Perhaps after dinner I could spend some time with you?” That was a beautiful sign of her mindset, she needed him.

“Let’s focus on dinner first.” He leaned close, his warm breath tickled her ears. He waved to dismiss Penny from duty, having already decided he would spend the evening with his Dove. As the two entered the dining hall, the table was set and only two seats sat unfilled, the head seat for Doflamingo and the seat to his left. Servants quickly pulled out the chairs and had the two sit before silver platters were brought in and set on the table. Most of the family was already mid conversation in anticipation for the meal. Maria simply watched, scanning quickly to find who she recognized. At the far end she saw Dellinger, Baby 5 and Buffalo. To her left immediate left was Diamante, across from her sat a rather oozy looking fellow with a club staff and on his right sat a man in armor with spades on his shoulder plates.

The other two top executives, Trebol and Pica. She put the pieces together as a plate was placed in front of her as well as a wine glass filled with a ruby red wine. Before she could get too enamored by the food she felt Diamante’s elbow nudge her and she jumped slightly.

“Stole my spot I see.” He playfully remarked. Maria hadn’t clued in that where she sat one of the other executives would have sat, with that sudden realization.

“I-” She was cut off by Doflamingo who had his usual grin across his face.

“Can’t have her sit too far now can I?” With one hidden flick of his finger under the table, a string tugged her chair along the floor closer to his, he rested his hand on her shoulder, once more increasing the heat in her face. With two more simplistic twitches, her food and wine was pulled beside his, not a spill in sight. Diamante couldn’t help but laugh at the situation and reaction this girl was in. Doflamingo rose from his chair for a moment tapping his glass to get the attention of the table.

Is he going to give a toast?! How do you expect me to keep composure after that!? Maria panicked desperately trying to collect her poor beating heart.

“Members of my family, tonight is a very special occasion. I am honored to be welcoming my little Dove here.” He extended his left hand as if he was presenting Maria. She rose with the gesture. “As the newest member of the Donquixote family.” The other members raised their glasses and Maria joined in. “To Maria, my Dove.” With that the family recited to Maria before taking a sip of all the drinks. “Now feast!” He commanded before falling into his chair, Maria being pulled down by his left hand into hers. 

One thing was for certain, with all the hustle and bustle of the family at dinner, there was no lack of entertainment, Maria often found herself busy watching conversations rather than consuming the food before her, she was however not shy about drinking.

“Is the food not to your liking?” Doflamingo asked while he stole a spoonful of Maria’s feast.

“It’s amazing, I just love people watching. I enjoy good finger food for moments like this.” Maria mentioned, not thinking anything of it, she would eat properly, she just wanted to get accustomed to meal times. That however did not fly with Doflamingo. He snapped his fingers, summoning a servant.

“Prepare her something she can absentmindedly eat.” He ordered, the servant darted off to the kitchen.

“Doffy, you didn’t have to do that, I'll be alright. I used to sit and watch people all the time before…” Her voice trailed off, some times when she was stealing food, she had no choice but to hide out and watch for fear of getting caught. She had spent hours one night sitting in a rather full trash can, before she could eat. While not pleasant it was a carry over. During festivities she’d sit and watch from the barren rooftops longing to be home in Mariejois. Doflamingo watched her for a minute as she collected her brain from its crash course of unpleasantry. “I’m used to waiting out for my food. Let’s just say that.” Had her brain not yet understood she was no longer in fight or flight, the food in front of her was not something she was stealing, it was a gift. Doflamingo used the stolen spoon, scooping up some food from her plate and holding the spoon to her face.

“Open up.” His deep voice was quieter, Maria couldn’t understand why for a moment before it clicked and she parted her lips slightly. “Good girl.” He cooed, causing a chill to run up her hips and spark in her brain.

“D-Doffy, I can feed myself.” Maria stammered out, he fed her. It was an act of care, during the trip to Dressrosa, he had the slave and crew tend to her unless he was helping her adjust to formal life. Yes he had done smaller and larger acts, like the wardrobe, the note and all the money she could ever spend. But this was tender, it was direct. In Maria’s short time with him, she had heard many tales that he could be cruel and sadistic. That was her first experience as she watched him blow the brains out of a noble. This however confirmed above all else in her mind that she was occupying some space in that brain of his and not just to be an object. She had value to him.

“Can you?” He teased getting another spoonful ready, Maria decided to enjoy this, her mind forgot about the table, the family. Her only focus was him. Before he even needed to speak her mouth was open. The two continued this little routine, occasionally taking a break to sip wine or allow Doflamingo to eat himself.

This was home. This was everything she had ever wanted. He was her radiant god, her king, her flamingo and she was his sweet little self indulgence, his queen, his dove.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 19

The Way the World Ends, Part 3

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.9k

Warnings and tags: angst; suspense; canon-typical violence; someone gets punched; blood and injury; language.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo arrives in Pabu; the team disagrees about how to proceed.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

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…This is the way the world ends…

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

To say Pabu was beautiful would be grossly inadequate: it was the most idyllic place Echo had ever seen, and he’d seen a kriffing lot of the galaxy. He didn’t know if a worse hell existed than Skako Minor, but it was difficult to imagine a heaven that was lovelier than Pabu. He wished Riyo could have been there with him to see it.

It felt very strange to sit in the sunshine and enjoy Shep Hazard’s feast, to drink whatever fruity cocktail the mayor had made from the fermented tropical fruit that grew on their island—all while conscious that the rest of his team was either stuck in that dingy underworld garage or out on missions that were equally likely to end in gruesome disaster as success. He didn’t blame Hunter for wanting to keep the rest of the Batch—and particularly Omega—safe in this paradise.

Despite all that, Echo didn’t regret his decision to join Rex for even a second. The team’s success at Balmorra had only reaffirmed that he’d made the right call. But he couldn’t deny that it was very good to see his family again. Hunter made it more than clear that Echo would be welcome to join them, and if he were honest with himself, Echo admitted that it was a tempting prospect: a peaceful life in this beautiful place, surrounded by the people who were closest to him.

But what about the others? The ones who weren’t lucky enough to have found peace and safety?

“Echo, you've seen the power you're up against,” Hunter said. “You can't defeat them.”

“It's not about that,” Echo insisted. “It's about fighting for our brothers.”

“I understand why you're doing this,” Hunter sighed, “but when will it be enough?”

Echo didn’t reply immediately, but the unspoken words hovered between them nonetheless: Not yet.

“We have to tell him,” Fireball insisted.

“What good would it do?” Rex asked. “We need to get that data spike decrypted. If we tell Echo now, he’ll want to join in the search. We have to think about the bigger picture.”

“We could use some karking help with the search,” Nemec pointed out. “We still don’t know where Cerra is or even who took her.”

“My contact is looking into it,” Rex insisted. “If she’s in Imperial custody, we should know within a day or two.”

“And what if she isn’t?” Fireball asked. “How are we supposed to find her when we have no actionable intel?”

Riyo’s stomach churned. She couldn’t even believe they were having this conversation. Rex’s jaw was set firmly, but she could see the torment and self-doubt that swirled in his eyes.

“What if the situation were reversed?” she asked Rex. “If Echo knew something had happened to Cerra, and he decided to keep it from you?”

“I’d say he made the right decision,” Rex said. “The mission comes first.”

“That’s a kriffin’ lie,” Gregor said. “You’d burn the galaxy to the ground.”

“And what makes you say that?” Rex demanded harshly.

Gregor stared at Rex without flinching. “Because that’s what I’d do.”

“I have to agree,” Riyo said. “I’m sorry, Rex. If you don’t comm Echo, I will.”

Rex sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “Just… Give me a day. If I don’t hear back from my contact by then, I’ll comm Echo myself.”

“And what if you hear back?” Gregor asked.

Rex didn’t respond, and Riyo knew he was considering the possibility that his contact wouldn’t have any information.

“Then we’ll make a decision at that point,” she said decisively. 

Rex met her eyes and nodded in acknowledgment. She wasn’t particularly thrilled, but she understood Rex’s reservations. There was really nothing Echo could do right now, and his mission was important. But the minute they had a shred of intel, she would comm him—Rex and his bigger picture be damned.

“Previous transfer records recovered from the ship's logs list other clone prisoners detained by the Advanced Science Division,” Tech said, “and Crosshair is one of them.”

Wrecker spoke the thought that sprang to all of their minds: “You mean Crosshair turned on the Empire?”

Echo stared at Tech. If this were true, it could change everything. Crosshair had chosen the Empire, and he’d claimed to have done it without the influence of his inhibitor chip. Echo harbored private doubts that Crosshair’s chip had truly been removed, even if he thought it had. Regardless, if Crosshair had a change of heart about the Empire, that meant that there was hope that he would be willing to come back to the squad. Echo had lost too many brothers already. If there was the slightest chance that he could save Crosshair, he had to do it.

Tech and Echo threw themselves into the task of combing through the data he’d recovered from the Gozanti, and then into hunting down any leads they could find on Hemlock and the Advanced Science Division in Republic and Imperial records. There was precious little, and after an exhaustive search, Echo sent a message to Rex asking for assistance. 

Echo was surprised by how quickly Rex commed him back. He answered the call aboard the Remora; better for everyone involved if the Batch knew as little as possible about the details of Rex’s operations. The more they knew, the bigger the targets on their backs would grow.

“Echo,” Rex greeted him without preamble. “My contact came through with limited intel on your Dr. Hemlock, but we do know that he’s set to travel to Eriadu in two rotations.”

“That’s not much time,” Echo frowned. “What’s he doing there?”

“Attending some sort of summit at Tarkin’s compound with a bunch of Imperials. Not sure who else will be there, but given how classified it is, safe to say they’re all high-level officials.”

Echo grunted. “Tight security, then. Couldn’t take it with an army, but maybe a strike team could infil. Anything else?”

Rex shook his head, his expression troubled. “Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to make it seem like Hemlock doesn’t exist. They’re not going to be happy to see a squad of wanted fugitives tracking him down.”

“We don’t have a choice. If he has Crosshair, we have to get him back,” Echo said firmly. “He’s our brother. Besides, Hemlock is holding other clones, too.”

“I understand,” Rex replied, but doubt clouded his eyes.

“We could use some backup,” Echo observed. 

“I wish I could send it,” Rex said. “Echo… there’s something you need to know.”

“What is it?” Echo asked. “Riyo—”

“She’s all right,” Rex said. “It’s about Cerra.”

Echo’s short-lived relief spiraled into a sense of foreboding. “What happened?”

“She went missing on an extraction mission. We still don’t know who took her.”

“I’m coming back,” Echo said flatly.

“Negative,” Rex replied, his voice stern. “The whole team on Coruscant is working on it. Your mission is too important; we have no idea if or when we’ll get another lead on Hemlock.”

“Kriff Hemlock—” Echo began.

“Cerra would want you to put the mission first,” Rex interrupted. “You know it’s true.”

“Cerra has a karkin’ death wish!” Echo snapped. “She’s been looking for an excuse to self-destruct since I met her.”

“We won’t let that happen. We will find her. I need you to stay focused on your mission. We can’t spare the men for Eriadu, and we couldn’t make it in time anyway. It has to be you, Echo. We’re counting on you.”

Echo sat alone in the Remora for a long moment after Rex ended the holocom. He knew Rex was right, but it didn’t ease the sick feeling of dread when he thought about Cerra. Dank farrik, he’d only just begun to get through to her, and now he might have lost her for good—his last link to Fives.

The mission comes first.

He’d get his brother back first, and if the team hadn’t found Cerra by then, he swore by the Force he’d get his sister back, too. 

Cerra awoke to the familiar gray walls of a Venator brig. She’d never been held in one before, but she’d seen them plenty of times during her years of service. She had no idea how much time had passed or even which Venator she was on. Her body ached, and hunger gnawed at her stomach. She took a quick stock of her situation.

Naturally, she’d been stripped of her weapons and armor, which was karking annoying. It was just her luck to lose her armor on the very first mission after she finished the modifications she’d been working on with Echo. The loss of the blasters cut deeper. Jesse had customized them for her specially years before, and they were all she had left from him. Even if she managed to escape, the odds were spectacularly bad that she would be able to find them on the Venator, if they’d even made it aboard.

That was assuming she lived long enough to escape. She had no delusions about her chances: she was being kept alive long enough to interrogate. Once they’d ripped the answers out of her, she would be terminated and jettisoned with the rest of the trash. If she were lucky, it would happen in that order.

All of which meant that she needed to escape before they had a chance to extract her secrets. All she had to do was break out of a completely secure holding cell, make her way through an enormous and heavily guarded starship, steal a ride, and jump into hyperspace before the Venator could engage its tractor beam—all without getting captured again. 

Easy peasy. 

She scoffed and flopped back down on the kriffing pathetic excuse for a bed. Clearly, prisoner comfort was not high on the list of priorities for jail cells. Nor was entertainment, which she discovered over the course of the next several days. Had she been bored when she was alone in the garage? That had been a paradise compared to the endless, colorless monotony of a Venator cell.

She slept, she woke, she slept again. Nothing changed, and she was forced to confront the very real possibility that she was going to die in this cell. She didn’t know how many days passed before the heavy tread of a TK trooper sounded outside her cell door.

“On your feet,” he barked. “Hands behind your head.”

She complied, keeping a wary eye on his blaster. He shut down the ray shield and entered the cell, then shoved her against the wall as he secured her wrists in a set of binders behind her back.

“You know, I usually expect a man to at least tell me his name before I let him tie me up,” she said, hoping to catch him off-balance.

“Quiet, scum,” he snapped.

Ah, well. Worth a shot.

“Get moving,” he ordered, nudging her out of the cell and into the corridor with the muzzle of his blaster.

“Where we headed?” she asked conversationally.

“Interrogation,” he replied shortly.

“Any chance we can stop at the commissary?” she asked. “I wouldn’t mind a snack. The prisoner rations here are—”

“Shut up,” he snapped. “Eyes front.”

Unfortunately, he never let down his guard, and his blasters were properly secured. Trust her to encounter the only competent TK trooper in the entire kriffin’ army. He marched her to the interrogation room and thrust her through the doorway. She stumbled, but righted herself in time to see the door slide closed and the lock engage. 

She took a quick inventory of the room. There was nothing inside except a table and two chairs; nothing she could use to escape or even loosen her binders. She paced around the room impatiently. After waiting a frankly impolite amount of time, at last she heard the door hiss open behind her.

“Cerra Kilian. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Oh kark. 

She would recognize that voice anywhere, and she fought against a reflexive urge to snap to attention. Instead, she turned slowly around and inspected the man who’d entered the room.

“Admiral,” she drawled in greeting, hoping that he couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart or see the damp sheen of sweat that she suddenly felt on her forehead.

“It’s colonel, actually,” Wullf Yularen replied.

“Apologies, I didn’t realize you’d been demoted,” Cerra replied. From his narrowed eyes, she could tell the barb had struck home.

“It was a lateral move,” he replied. “An opportunity presented itself to be of greater service to the Empire.”

“Then I suppose congratulations are in order,” Cerra said.

“I can’t say the same for you,” Yularen said with a faint look of disgust as he surveyed her from her shaved head to her booted feet. “What on earth have you done to yourself? You used to be almost pretty.”

Always such a charmer. 

“Well, new Empire, new me,” she said glibly. “I think the new look suits me.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect better from a deserter and a traitor,” he said.

Cerra smirked. “Deserter, I’ll give you. But I hardly think a few shady back-alley deals constitute treason. If they did, you’d have to arrest the entire senate.”

Yularen clenched his jaw, but he didn’t rise to her bait. “You saved my life once, Lieutenant—or rather—Miss Kilian, and out of respect for that, I am going to give you a chance to do this the easy way. Tell me where to find your companions, and I will let you go free.”

Kraytshit, scughole. The only way you’re letting me out is in a body bag.

“I don’t have any companions,” she said. “I’m a free agent.”

Yularen’s lips tightened. He began to circle her, slowly, his shoulders ramrod straight, and his hands clasped behind his back.

“What were you doing on Daiyu?”

“What does anyone do on Daiyu?” she asked. “I was picking up a shipment of glitterstim.”

“You expect me to believe you abandoned your highly decorated military career to become a spice runner?” Yularen’s voice dripped with skepticism.

She shrugged. “Girl’s gotta make a living.”

He narrowed his eyes. “We know you were involved with the insurrection on Raada.” 

It was hardly an insurrection. I just blew up a speeder.

“What’s Raada?” she asked insouciantly.

“We have surveillance holos of you on the base. There’s no point in pretending ignorance.”

“Oh, you mean Raada, the moon,” Cerra said. “I was thinking about moving there, but I didn’t care much for the neighbors.”

“I see. I must admit, I was surprised to see a familiar face when we began to investigate the Raada incident. Careless. Almost as careless as trusting a spice runner not to give you up at the first hint of a reward.”

So that’s where the hole in our opsec was, Cerra thought grimly. Poor fucker.

“Hell of a reward,” she said. “Why do you care so much about a blown-up speeder, anyway?”

“Don’t pretend to be so innocent,” he gritted out. “Where is Ahsoka Tano?” 

“Who?” Cerra didn’t need to fake her confusion this time; she was truly baffled.

What in the galaxy does Ahsoka Tano have to do with anything? Cerra had met the young Jedi several times before she was transferred to the Ro-Ti-Mundi, but didn’t know her particularly well. Certainly not as well as Rex did. As far as Cerra knew, the girl had died along with the rest of the Jedi Order, even if she was a lapsed member.

“We know an adolescent Togruta Jedi killed an inquisitor on Raada and escaped mere days after you were caught on holocam at that base. Where is she?” Yularen demanded in a harsh tone.

“I thought all the Jedi were dead. What’s an inquisitor?” Cerra asked curiously. She hadn’t heard of them before, and she figured she might as well try to get as much information as she could on the off chance that she walked away from this mess.

Yularen backhanded her, hard. He struck so fast she never saw his fist coming before it smashed into her face. Her head snapped to the side, and she stumbled, but righted herself quickly as agony exploded in her mouth.

“Rude,” she gasped painfully. “I thought we were having a conversation.”

She tasted the salty, metallic flavor of blood, and she spat it onto the floor in front of Yularen’s feet.

“I gave you your chance to cooperate,” he said. “But it seems you’ve chosen to do it the hard way.”

“You know,” Cerra said, “you were a decent commanding officer. Bit of a hardass, but I never took you for a stooge. I guess you can never really know someone.”

“Strong words for a woman who betrayed everything she ever stood for,” Yularen said.

“I didn’t betray shit,” Cerra snarled. “And my only regret is that I dragged your fascist ass into the escape pod instead of saving more clones.”

He glared at her. “You will tell me everything.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said.

“I won’t need to. Guard!” Yularen snapped. The TK trooper stationed outside the room entered immediately. “Escort the prisoner to the enhanced interrogation room, and notify Agent Daivik that his services are required.”

“Yes, sir,” the trooper said, taking aim at Cerra. “Move it, scum.”

Cerra shot Yularen an impudent, bloody grin. “Be seeing you.”

---

Next chapter

[ink-flavored]

Purgatory

BTS Series: ⬅ Table of Contents Also available on Neocities! P&J Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection @auroblaze@zeenimf @vacantgodling @foxys-fantasy-tales Banner art by @auroblaze

Traditionally in Christianity, Purgatory isn’t a place, like pop culture depicts. It’s actually a “cleansing ritual” that some people have to go through to be worthy of Heaven. Sometimes it involves literally being cleansed in fire! However, I’m going with the more pop-culture-y depiction of Purgatory because it better fits the tone of the story, and allows me to do a little more sociopolitical commentary. Which I love, and will always do. Anyway, here it is!

The Structure of Purgatory

In the quilt of the universe, Purgatory is a fascinating square. It holds a mirror to Earth, reflecting it as a plain, unchanging, eerie dreamworld. There are things that look familiar to the souls that wander there, but with a distinct alien veneer that reminds them they are not in the same place they left.

Souls who aren’t worthy of Heaven, but aren’t sinful enough to be sent to Hell, are prescribed time to think and to repent in Purgatory. God gives them a second chance after death to reconcile their sin, and once they’ve atoned to His satisfaction, they’re permitted to take their place in paradise. Those that aren’t forgiven wander until their souls eventually fade to Hell.

Those wandering Purgatory cannot enter or exit of their own volition. The process of forgiveness or fading can take centuries. Hundreds of years of circling in the same empty plane with other souls, just as aimless. Simply put, Purgatory is a holding cell, for those souls who have nowhere else to go.

Wandering Souls

Though they certainly can, the immortal beings of other realms rarely appear in Purgatory. Angels and demons can travel in and out whenever they wish, but angels appear only to bring souls there or relieve others of their roaming, and demons have little use for souls that can’t be further corrupted. The souls of Purgatory have very little company outside each other.

The souls that wander are given little direction as to how they’re meant to appropriately repent. They have not broken their relationship with God, they’re assured, only injured it, and that injury can be repaired with time and atonement. However, many souls in Purgatory are confused as to why they’re even supposed to be repenting. Lying, gossiping, drinking to excess, failure to pray, and suicide are all on the list of venial sins that these lonely souls are meant to be making amends for.

For those confused, they have plenty of time to work through the feeling. Souls in Purgatory are meant to consider their mistakes in life, atone for them, and God would recognize the way they’ve held themselves accountable and offer forgiveness. Eventually.

Some souls, though, become frustrated. Some felt their sin was unavoidable, some felt they didn’t have a choice. Some had no idea they were sinning in the first place, they thought they were doing the right thing. It’s difficult for many souls to capitulate to a God they had never believed in, or to apologize for something they couldn’t have averted.

But even among those that atone as best they can, the resounding silence from above becomes disheartening indeed. After centuries and centuries of wandering, plenty expect that they’ll never be forgiven, no matter how long or how many times they repent. When the angels appear to usher the scant few forgiven souls to Heaven, leaving countless others behind, the demoralization drives them deeper and deeper into despair.

Forgiveness and Fading

The process of being forgiven is, in writing, very simple. Once God has decided a soul wandering Purgatory has repented to His satisfaction, He orders an angel to bring them to Heaven.

In practice, the qualifiers for “satisfactory repentance” are vague. The criteria for one soul might be wildly different from another, regardless of their sin. Some are waiting for a short amount of time compared to the souls that wander the longest, and there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to which souls are accepted and which aren’t. God seems more determined than ever to smoke out the unworthy, and the length of time it takes for any one soul to reach forgiveness stretches far longer than many of Heaven’s agents think is justified—though these angels are wise enough not to voice their criticisms.

Part of the unspoken concern lies in the fact that souls in Purgatory don’t stay there for eternity. The longer they sit, the more they despair, the closer they are to giving up on the chance of being forgiven altogether. Many don’t see a point, after waiting for so long. God had abandoned them, left them to rot and tread the same ground over and over, waiting for a forgiveness that would never come. When these souls turn their backs on Heaven, there is only one place for them to go.

Hell doesn’t “claim” souls from Purgatory. Demons aren’t sent up to collect them, and it’s not as though the souls from Purgatory are itching for damnation. Instead, God watches these souls slip farther from forgiveness, and eventually He lets them go. Like a fishing line, He stops reeling them in, and releases them to the depths.

And though Hell doesn’t necessarily gather up these lost souls on purpose, Lucifer will accept them happily. After all, what better way to motivate his army than with more fodder to be made an example of? What better way to show them how pointless God’s plans are, than with the very souls He claimed to love so much, abandoned at their doorstep? The constant churning of Purgatory’s lost souls are the perfect talking point—remember how much God loved His creations? This is what He thinks of them now. The only option becomes overthrowing Heaven, and proving themselves righteous.

The angels in Heaven who are brave or foolish enough to speak of this problem openly, do so in whispers. They wonder why God is so concerned with keeping out every soul with even a sliver of impurity. They wonder why so few souls get brought up from Purgatory these days, and even if they do, why they stay there for so long. They worry about innocent souls going to Hell under their watch, suffering needlessly for the sake of holy paranoia.

And then they’re decisively hushed, for fear of joining the unholy ranks.

There it is! Those of you who read Justice’s backstory on Tumblr might have found some of this familiar.

I’m not sure how much of all this lore, from Heaven on downwards, will make it into the full story, but I’m glad I got to share it with all of you to make sure someone other than me gets to hear my thoughts!

Thanks as always for your support!

— Annika