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bxnfire · 2 days ago

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Silver Tongue || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: after losing a bet to geto, gojo has to go get a piercing of geto’s choice, but this was far from a punishment; you were his piercer, and one thing sure leads to another when dealing with someone with a silver tongue like gojo

✎ content/warnings: piercer!reader x gojo, smut, fluff, oral (f. receiving), semi-public, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, masturabation, needles (?), pet names, dirty talk, mutual pining, flirting

✎ a/n: bra i saw this random mf on tiktok with a tongue piercing and decided my beautiful man should have one as well. enjoy <3!

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Geto and Gojo have been friends for a really long time. Their dynamic is a chaotic one, but it works for them just fine. It is not uncommon for the 2 to go out a lot, but what is uncommon is Gojo losing bets. Gojo was cocky, yeah, but he had a reason to be; he was the kind of guy to be good at what he tried his hand at no matter what, often leaving Geto amused by trying to figure out what it was he couldn’t do.

Turns out, Gojo’s biggest enemy was his very own ego. After a long day of doing random physical activities, Geto challenged Gojo to a simple race. Of course, Gojo was fatigued but he let his ego take the best of him, and thus accepted Geto’s challenge.

“But,” Geto added, “if I win, you’re getting a piercing. Of my choice.”

“So then if I win, you’re getting my initials tattooed on your arm,” Gojo said cheekily, trying to think of the stupidest font to request at the tattoo shop.

“You’re so on,” Geto replied. And with that, they had a race. But much to Gojo’s dismay and Geto’s amusement (or rather, amazement?), the former lost.

That is how the pair found themselves at 1 a.m. at the door of the tattoo shop you worked at. You were a great tattoo artist and piercer, but since you were still in college you were often given later shifts, which allowed you to meet interesting characters, this duo being one of them.

You were sitting at the counter working on some new designs when you heard the door open, and once you looked up you made eye contact with the deepest cerulean eyes you had ever seen. Unaware that you were starring, you got startled once the man next to him spoke to you.

“Hey there Y/n, nice to meet ya,” said the black-haired male, looking at your name tag, startling partly because you were in a trance watching the white-haired guy next to him, and partly because his voice was oddly… sultry.

“Hi, whatcha thinking of getting today?” You ask him, eyeing his piercings.

“Well the thing is we’re not here for me today, though I may come back; we’re here for him,” he smiled, gesturing towards the guy that had you in a trance.

“Yeah…. I’m getting a piercing today,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.

You swallow before replying. “So then, what piercing would you like?”

“What’s popular with girls these days?” He says smirking.

The black-haired guy laughs, slapping him in the back. “You’re so dumb,” he manages to get out between laughs.

“Well,” you paused, genuinely trying to answer his question, “I’ve seen a lot of girls go crazy for some eyebrow and nose piercings. You could also get traditional earrings of course, they’re always good starter piercing.”

“I don’t know if I want it to be so apparent though… but I like the eyebrow piercing suggesting,” he responds, deep in thought.

“Not too quick Satoru, remember our bet: I get to choose your piercing,” he cuts quick, looking at Satoru.

“Oh… Bring it on then, I could rock anything,” he laughed, his pride shining through.

“You’re so damn cocky, I’d like to shut you up… actually, yes, I’ll shut you up,” he then turns to you, “he’ll be getting a tongue piercing tonight,” he says, decidedly.

“I hope you’re not a foodie then,” you say amused, catching on the dynamic between the two.

“Suguru,” he cries, “you KNOW this won’t end well.”

“Well that’s part of the point isn’t it?” He smiles softly, his angelic tone just making it funnier.

“Well, I’ll start setting up my station,” you say, looking through a couple of drawers until you find tongue jewelry. “While I set up, pick one of these, I recommend the first 3 at the top, they’re nicer while you’re healing.”

As soon as you leave, Satoru starts looking through the selection of piercings. Pills, dice, even a marijuana leaf, and he giggles, but in the end, he does take up on your recommendation and chooses a simple, silver stud.

“I can’t wait to hear you speak after this,” Geto says.

“Oh shut up,” he replies.

“Ready! Please come over here,” you shout from your station, putting your gloves on.

“Coming!” Said Satoru, and as he started walking Geto followed.

As he sits down on the chair, he shows you the piercing he chose.

“I see you took on my recommendation,” you say looking at him and smiling, and Satoru felt his heart flutter.

“Y-Yeah, I did,” he replied, trying to hide how flustered he was.

“You nervous?” You ask, catching on to his stutters.

“You could say that,” he laughs, happy he could cover it up so easily.

And sure, maybe to you he could, but not to Geto. He quickly caught on the fact that Gojo was flustered because of you. Having known the guy for years, he knew how he reacted to injuries, danger, and even needles, and he never gets flustered, no. He’s also seen him around girls he finds attractive, and while Satoru is able to talk to them, he does get flustered at first. How adorable.

“Yeah, he’s scared alright,” Geto says, teasing Satoru.

“Don’t worry! Tongue piercings aren’t typically the most hurtful ones. Of course, it varies from person to person, but having pierced and heard from several people about them, they’re not terrible,” you say reassuringly.

What an angel, Satoru thinks. Though he’d never admit it to Suguru, he was starting to be glad he got him in this predicament. You were so cute, so sweet trying to make him feel better, and he couldn’t help but notice the piercings and tattoos that adorned your beautiful body. He wondered if there were other masterpieces hidden under your clothes.

Trying not to pry on it too much, he watched you get a marker and come close to him, so close he could smell your sweet scent. Shit, maybe looking at you could be my anesthesia, he thought.

“Alright then! Please take out your tongue, I need to mark the spot where I’ll pierce,” you say.

“Well then,” he says, taking his tongue out. Getting a funny feeling as you mark his skin, he tries not to giggle in fear it’d mess up your work.

You pull away and then put a mirror so he can look at his face. “Do you like how it looks there? Or would you want it someplace else?”

“That looks perfect, let’s do it,” he says.

“Great! Then sit while I get my stuff,” you say.

“What’s your name again?” You ask.

“You can call me Gojo,” he replies.

��Ok Gojo, Take a deep breath in,” you say, and as he does so, you put the needle through his tongue, “then breathe out,” once again, he obediently breathes out, relieved in the little pain he actually felt. This is when you actually put the jewelry in.

“Now I’m just securing the stud. And there ya go, take a look,” you say, bringing the mirror back.

“Wow,” he says, surprised at how much he actually liked the piercing.

“There’s some fun piercings you can put in once it heals, but make sure you’re taking care of it correctly,” you say, and then begin to explain the care process for the piercing.

As you 3 move back out to the checkout counter, you recommend some products to Gojo for whatever he may need. You also say he’s welcome to come back if he feels uncomfortable in any way.

“Or if you’re a busy man, here’s my phone number,” you say boldly, hoping it’s not obvious how attracted you were to him, “let me know if you have any questions as it heals!”

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll let you know if anything happens,” he smiles as he takes the paper with your number, automatically taking out his phone and putting the contact in.

“Alright then, ready to survive off ice cream for a while?” Geto asks.

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Gojo replies smiling.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say as they walk out.

“The pleasure was mine sweetheart,” Gojo replies, finding the courage from his new piercing, and luckily for you he turns around, because you’re left as red as a tomato.

As him and Geto walk out, you wonder whether he’ll text you with more than just questions about the piercing. Sheepishly, you go back to your station and clean it up, relishing on the faint smell of Gojo’s cologne that stayed behind.

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While you’re sitting on the train on the home, you get a text from an unknown number:

💬 Unknown: so what did you say helped with swelling again?

💬 Unknown: it’s gojo btw 👅

You smile. As you type up your recommendations and add him to your contacts, admittedly wanting to see him again. So then, conveniently of course, you ask for a contact picture.

💬 You: mind sending me a contact pic?

💬 Gojo 👅: [IMG]

The picture was of him taking his tongue out playfully, showing off the jewelry you had just given him. His cerulean eyes peeked through his round sunglasses, and with that you got flustered yet again, which was ridiculous: to think you had pierced nipples, tattooed in places where sunlight doesn’t quite reach, and you’re flustered over a normal selfie?

💬 Gojo 👅: you did me justice

💬 You: i think any piercing would’ve worked just fine 👀

And on the other side of the screen, it was now Gojo who was flustered at your words. Unknowingly, for the same reason as you, he asked for a contact picture. Bringing out your holder side, you take a selfie from an angle that shows many of your attributes, and Gojo isn’t immune to your charm. As he updates your contact, he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks… and his dick.

He quickly realizes it was going to be a restless night, or rather, morning? The clock marked 3 o’clock, and whilst the world outside his room was silent, it was easy to fantasize of what it’d be like to have you there with him.

Squeezing his tip through his underwear, he thinks back to your pretty face, so focused and so close to his as you pierced his tongue. He wonders what it’d look like covered in his cum: would you lick it up? Would you clean it with your fingers? Would you make him clean it up for you?

The more he thinks of you, the hornier he gets. Taking his hardened cock out from his underwear, he starts thinking of what he’d do to you. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see your body before him right now. Is there any piercings he didn’t catch on you having? Tattoos? Would you like him to kiss those on you? Maybe even lick them? You would probably taste so sweet, yeah, as sweet as you smell or as sweet as you sound.

At this point, he’s fisting himself quickly, massaging his balls every now and then, soon to reach his release. He remembers your sweet voice saying his surname, your laugh as you watched him and Suguru’s banter, and your beautiful eyes looking at him. With that, he came all over his hand, deciding he had to see you soon.

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As the days passed, you and Gojo texted more and more. Your conversations always started with a silly question about the piercing from him, and from then on it would range from your favorite subjects to trips you have made and your favorite foods. You found yourself crushing hard on Gojo, taking little notes of the things he liked and wanted to do, and trying to gather up the courage to ask him to hangout.

Lucky for you, he had been feeling the same, except he was bolder than you, and thus, he asked first.

💬 Gojo 👅: y/nnnnn

💬 Gojo 👅: you free tonight??

💬 Gojo 👅: there’s this place i wanted to check out near your job, so maybe before you start your shift we could go?

You were ecstatic. Quickly confirming that you were down, you get dressed and head out for the door. Reaching your meet-up spot, you anxiously wait for Gojo. To calm your nerves down, you scroll through TikTok and find yourself laughing at the stupidest videos. Not noticing a tall presence behind you, Gojo decides to surprise you, crouching down to your level to whisper in your ear.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asks, completely scaring you.

“Gojo! Dont sneak up on me like that again,” you say, relieved that it’s him and not a weirdo, and he laughs at your scared state.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He asks cheekily, and then he begins walking to the place he wanted to go.

You two chitchat nonstop on the way there. You had nurtured a sweet friendship in the little time you guys had known each other. You really appreciated how funny Gojo was, telling you things that made you wonder just how his mind worked. There truly was never a dull moment between the two of you. The more you knew him, the more into him you became. Sometimes you could feel the tension between the two of you, walking together while your hands brushed against each other, him asking you to check on his piercing often and you having to get so close to his handsome face, and other things like that which gave your stomach butterflies.

After eating at that new restaurant, you suddenly remembered that Gojo’s piercing was now fully healed, and knowing his spontaneous nature, you suggested that he get it changed, just to switch it up a bit.

“Really? What would you suggest, you’re the professional after all,” he says while smiling at you.

“Well, we could go back to the shop and I could show you a couple of cool ones, we got a new batch this week,” you replied, thinking already of which he would like.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and after that you two head into the store.

It wasn’t open on Mondays, but given that your manager really trusted you, you had a copy of the keys to the store. Rushing into the shop before other people noticed, you and Gojo get settled in the quiet store. As he waits there looking around the things you had on display, you look for the drawer with tongue jewelry once again, reminding you of the night you met. Smiling softly to yourself, you pull a drawer out and bring it on the counter, the noise of you setting it down catching Gojo’s attention.

He steps closer to it and starts looking through the collection you have. Giggling once he reached the marijuana one again, he asks for the one you like most.

“Well, if I’m being honest the one you have right now is one of my favorite, you can never go wrong with a traditional silver stud. Now, I remember you wanted something to impress girls yeah?” You ask jokingly, and he blushes a little at the fact that you remembered him telling you that when you met.

“In that case, then you should definitely check this one out,” you say as you point to one that looked sort of like a hammer.

“What’s special about that one? It kind of looks like the pill one you got over there,” he asks curiously.

“While this one may look like just a little “pill” to you, it is a vibrator piercing,” you say a little flustered, realizing how intimate it was after you said it out loud.

“Oh,” he says, now looking intently at you.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if you’re an eater or anything,” you joke, trying to bring up the mood, but you notice it only made the atmosphere grow thicker, so you continue, “but this one can really take things up a notch when you’re down there hehe.”

“I’d like to say my head game is strong,” he says suggestively, “but I sure would like to see how this would make things better.”

“I could change it for you if you’d like! Or I could walk you through the process so you know what to do in the future whenever you wanna change it yourself, but trust me when I say, any girl you’re with will be very lucky,” you say boldly, hoping he realizes the piercing is not what they’d be lucky about.

“I think I’ll let you do it this time doll, I wouldn’t want to mess it up,” he says, knowing he’d be too distracted thinking of what he’d like to do to you with this very piercing if you would so desire.

“Well then,” you say, growing flustered as you get near your station, feeling him come close behind. You set him down, and ask him to open his mouth, something that feels oddly intimate considering the fact that you’re alone with him, with no one walking in, and he’s opening his mouth with your face so close to his, to make matters worse, his enticing eyes looking right at you.

You get to work in changing the jewelry as you explain to him how it works. “So, to turn it on, you need to tighten up the little ball at the bottom,” you say as you demonstrate, and then he gets a funny feeling on his tongue as he feels the metal vibrate through.

“And turn it off?” He asks, trying his best not to laugh.

“For that just unscrew it a little,” you demonstrate yet again, and he feels the vibrations coming to a stop.

Feeling the tension between you two, he decides to take it up a notch and test the waters. “I’d love to try it to its full extent,” he says, knowing that the conversation would go back to a more explicit topic.

“I’m telling you, your girl will be satisfied,” you reply, trying not to pry too much on it in fear he’ll see how badly you wanted him to try it on you.

“Well, I don’t really have a girl right now,” he says, not missing the relief and happiness that comes to your face right as he says it, “but there is someone I’d like to try it on.”

“And who might that be?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Take a guess,” he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he’s bringing your face to his and kissing you right on the spot.

After the initial shock of Gojo’s actions and the fact that your very own crush is kissing you, you let your impulse take over as you put your hand on his neck and bring him closer. You lick his lower lip asking for permission to go in, something that he eagerly grants, and your tongues find a rhythm that leaves you both breathless, your cunt feeling something whenever your tongue graced his piercing.

“So, were you able to figure it out?” He asks cheekily, still blushing from the fact that you kissed back and lord, were you a good fucking kisser.

“No, I don’t think you were very clear,” you reply, the fact that you matched his energy doing things to Gojo.

You pull him in this time, but he took his initiative somewhere else. He sat you on his lap and started caressing your sides, not daring to touch your bare skin no matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

On the other hand, it was getting harder and harder for you to play it cool in front of him. Feeling his big, veiny hands run all over you was making you ache for so much more. Not daring to say a word, you put your hands over his and guide them where you want them to be. You take one of them under your shirt all the way to your boobs, and in doing so you feel him moan into your kiss. Growing more confident at his reaction, you take the other one down to your ass, letting him squeeze to his desire.

He understands what you need want him to do and he starts gently fondling your boobs, switching back and forth between the two, as his other hand guided your movements to grind on his hardened dick.

You start moaning into his lips, and he abandons your lips to go on a trip down your face to your ears and your neck with his own. Finding a spot that seemed to have the greatest reaction out of you, he chooses to mark it for reference, just a little hickey to guide him later on, and one to let others now that you were his.

“This is your weak spot, isn’t it?” He says, relishing on the way you quiver at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“T-That’s one of ‘em,” you respond, giving in to your lust entirely, “but can ya find the o-others?” You ask, wanting to see how far he’ll go.

“Such a dirty doll,” he says, feeling his dick throb at your words, “of course I can find the others, I know you’ll guide me to them.”

Breaking away from you to take your shirt off, you shiver as you feel the cold hit your skin. Your nipples hardened and it was apparent through your bra, which made Gojo hungry for more of you. Taking it off as he plants a sweet kiss on your lips, he licks his way down until he reaches your nipples, and starts licking them and then blowing to keep them hard, something that had you grinding harder and harder on his boner.

“Can I try my piercing on you doll? Please? I need to know how you taste,” he says, drunk on your body, “I’m craving the sweetest treat of all.”

As he says that, his hands find his way to your underwear, and over them he plays with your wet pussy. Circling around your cunt as you whine for more, he takes your pants and panties off, letting him take a look at your naked body.

Admiring it like a master piece, Gojo stood what he’s doing altogether just to get a good look at you, wondering how concerning it’d be if he got this tattooed sometime. You squirm under his stare, and yet, you don’t feel the impulse to cover up or turn any of the lights off, if anything, you wanted him to look at you like you’re the last meal he’s about to eat.

And a feast is exactly what he had. Not even 2 minutes after admiring you like a goddess, he tightened the piercing and started flat-tongued to lick up and down your pussy. Moans quickly filled the room, the wet sensation of his tongue combined with the vibrations all over your pussy quickly overstimulating you. He puts his fingers in your mouth as his tongue finds its way to your clit. Lapping at it with the vibrating piece on his tongue sent shocks through you, making you buck your hips into him desperate to feel more than just his tongue on you. Retrieving the fingers you licked from your mouth, he put one finger inside of you, surprised at how easily it slipped into you.

“You’re so fucking warm and wet,” he says as he feels you on his finger, dick throbbing just thinking of how good it’d feel like once it wasn’t just his fingers inside of you.

Fingering you as he kept his tongue pressed to your clit, your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure, your moans now louder than they were before, sounding even more lewd combined with the sound of your wet pussy taking in Gojo’s fingers and his tongue slurping and keeping in contact with your clit.

With his free hand, he caressed your thigh gently, which seemed almost ironic giving how relentlessly he was pumping his fingers into you, how mercilessly he was working his tongue to please your clit.

You couldn’t take it for much longer. You felt your climax building up in your stomach, and just before you could tell him, you were splashing your juices all over his hand and face, leaving him shocked for a moment.

Quickly realizing what had just happened, he happily licks your cunt clean before cleaning his own fingers up, happily realizing that you’re even sweeter he thought you’d be.

“Don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” he says, getting up to undress quickly as he was eager to fuck you.

Coming out of your post-orgasm bliss, you notice how veiny his long, thick shaft is. Feeling your cunt clench on nothing just waiting for him to come inside of you, a curious hand reached for his dick and gave it a few stokes, filling your fingers get precum on them. Hearing his breath hitch, you quicken the pace of your strokes. This activated that dirty mouth he had on him, making you think that he’s nothing but a silver tongue the way he effectively had you right at his mercy.

“F-Fuck doll, your h-hand feels s-so good,” he moans. “Y-You h-have no idea what y-you do to me.”

You keep going like this for a little bit, until he grabs your hand and kisses it while looking right at you.

“I would love to cum off your hands alone someday,” he says, “but today is not that day, I need to be in your sweet pussy doll, can I?” He asks, placing another kiss, this time in the inside of your wrist.

“Y-Yes please Gojo,” you whine.

“Say my name doll,” he says.

“Gojo,” you respond.

He positions himself right at your entrance. Slapping his dick in your pussy, he teases both you and himself while his pride toys with you until you call him by his name.

“Wrong,” he says, now slapping a bit quicker, the lewd sound of skin slapping combinted with your moans filling the room. “It’s Satoru,” he says, trying his damned best not to moan at the pleasure.

Seeing you lost in that same agonizing pleasure, he dives right into your pussy, touching your cervix in that first stroke, earning a yelp from you. Wanting to keep his little game going, he kept talking. “C’mon doll, it’s easy, it’s S-A-T-O-R-U,” he panted, a stroke for every letter as he spelled out his name.

“S-Satoru! I-It’s so big!” You said, struggling to adjust to his length with how recklessly he pounded into you right off the bat.

“You can take it doll I know you must have a high pain tolerance,” he said, focusing a little too much on the feeling of your warm, soaked pussy, which squeezed his cock so deliciously, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

You, on the other hand, were in a whole other world. Satoru quite literally was fucking you silly, being already stimulated on your orgasm from not too long ago, his big fucking dick just had reached the spot you struggled to reach even with your toys. Blabbering some nonsense amidst of saying his name like a broken record, you feel your orgasm building up once again, something that Satoru quickly catches on to from the way your pussy was gripping his dick.

“You’re so tight doll, you’re going to milk me dry,” he says in between pants, “fuck, can I cum inside?” He asks while looking right at you, doubting how effective he’d be trying to pull out right now, and in all honesty, he was so lost on how good you felt he wanted to paint your insides, leave his mark, make you his.

“Y-Yes!” You do your best to say, finding it hard to get the words out. It doesn’t take long from here for you both to finish, Gojo making a mess of your pussy as by the time he pulls out both of your juices and his and intermixed coming out of you. He fingers you once more, this time to help you take his cum out. He then carries you bridal style to the bathroom so you can pee, in the meantime finding some paper towels to clean himself up and a little bit of the mess you left behind.

When you came back, he carries you back to where you had just fucked, and lays you on top of him to cool off together after such steamy sex you had.

“So… did you like the outcome?” You ask giggly, breaking the ice.

“Fuck, if getting piercings means I’ll get to be with you more then so be it. I’m coming every week for a new one,” he says, genuinely thinking of what he could get next.

“No need, I’d make time for you even if you didn’t get any more piercings,” you say, blushing at your little confession, immediately putting your head on the crook of his neck out of embarrassment.

He pulls you back, forcing you to look at him. You’re blushing, hair messy, and eyes slightly glossy after the intense moment you just had, and you’d never looked more beautiful in his mind. Smiling like an idiot after just looking at you, he says “you’re truly just as sweet as you taste,” and with that, you blush even harder.

“So then, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks suddenly, leaving you dumbfounded.

“I know it’s a bit of a rush and maybe not as romantic as I would’ve liked for it to be,” he admits, “but I must confess that I’ve had a thing for you since we met, and I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t mine after today.”

You’re blushing so hard right now, but also matching his love fool smile, happy that he liked you back. “Of course, Satoru, I’ll be yours, but only if you’ll promise you’ll be mine,” you say, snuggling up to him and looking deep into those beautiful eyes.

“Oh doll, I have been yours ever since you merely looked at me,” he says, then he kisses you gently, you can feel his love through this kiss, which unlike the others you just shared, this one was filled with pure love and admiration, and much like the other kisses he had given you today, these were addicting, immediately making you ache for more.

For the rest of the night, you guys just stayed there talking to each other about anything and everything. Making silly plans for the future, confessing the way you both had been pining for each other, and just laughing at how funny this all was, how crazy it was that it took you two less to have sex than to confess to each other, but, it was just as meaningful nonetheless.

Going back to your apartment, you two settled in your bed, ready to sleep after such intense night. There, basking in his warmth, you realized just how lucky and happy you were to have your job, because after all, if it weren’t for that you wouldn’t have met Satoru, the boy of your dreams, and next to you, Satoru was thinking just that, and even if he’d never admit it to Geto, he was so grateful to have lost that bet and swallow up his pride, because now, he had something truly worth boasting about: you. Who would’ve thought a piercing would change his life? Certainly, he wouldn’t have guessed it, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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mercillery · 18 hours ago

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ASL BROTHERS WITH A SHY S/O

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

CHARACTERS: Luffy + Ace + Sabo

NOTES: Do Luffy haters exist? It’s a dumb question, yes—but I’m genuinely curious. He’s so cute and dumb, I find it hard to not love him.

LUFFY

Luffy wouldn’t really “get” shyness in the conventional sense. But here’s the thing about Luffy: he’s all about accepting people as they are, no questions asked. He treats you with the same bright-eyed, wide-grinned enthusiasm he shows everyone. The idea of you needing to be more outgoing wouldn’t even cross his mind because, to him, you’re already perfect as you are. Shyness? Never heard of it. Just pass the meat, please.

Now, Luffy’s approach to social interactions is, well, 100% Luffy. He doesn’t really adapt his wild and carefree style to match anyone else’s comfort levels. If you're quiet and reserved, that’s cool—Luffy just goes on living life at full volume like it’s another Tuesday on the Sunny.

At first, you might be left wondering how in the seven seas you’re going to survive the endless hurricane of chaos that follows this rubbery captain around. But soon, and without realizing it, you start to find that his reckless antics and headfirst approach to life are... kind of charming. Sure, it’s like living next door to a tornado, but it’s a tornado that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and never lets you get too deep into your own thoughts.

What’s funny is that while he doesn’t actively try to make you feel more comfortable, he ends up doing it anyway. It’s his Luffy magic. You find yourself smiling more often, your shyness loosening its grip bit by bit as he does dumb stuff and throws himself into trouble that only Luffy would consider fun.

He’ll walk up to you, grin stretching from ear to ear, holding out some bizarre, questionably edible snack and say, “You gotta try this!” And just like that, the nerves you felt melt away—not because he’s making an effort to make you feel at ease, but simply because he’s himself.

And sure, sometimes his energy is a lot. We’re talking sprinting-across-decks, yelling-about-meat kind of “a lot.” But in the middle of all that noise, you come to realize that you feel safer and more at ease when you’re around him. Why? Because Luffy has this way of making everything fun and natural, and soon enough, that includes you too.

Before long, your shyness isn’t something you worry about around him; it’s just another thing Luffy accepts without blinking, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And in his eyes? It is.

It’s cute because you two really are like the sun and the moon, with Luffy as the blazing, never-stopping sun, and you being the more reserved, quiet moon. It’s like a cosmic duo—he’s all light and energy, and you’re the calm, cool reflection of it all. You balance each other out in the weirdest, most wonderful way.

And when people catch wind of the fact that Luffy is dating someone—let alone someone as shy as you—it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes bug out of their head. Yeah, they’re not wrong to be surprised, but Luffy doesn’t care. He’s already busy thinking about what’s next on the agenda, probably involving meat or some kind of treasure hunt.

Luffy is anything but shy. He could probably talk to a rock and think it’s the best conversation he’s had all day. So when it comes to affection, he’s not exactly one to shy away from it. He might not be the clingiest partner out there—he’s not going to be hanging off you like a koala (okay, maybe sometimes)—but you can bet he’s there, always.

Whether it’s randomly giving you a hug in or tossing his arm around your shoulder like it’s no big deal, he’s just Luffy—and that means showing affection wherever and whenever he feels like it, no matter who’s watching. Basically, he’s like a “here’s my arm, it’s yours now” kind of guy.

While Luffy doesn’t exactly get what makes you shy, he’s surprisingly good at picking up on your feelings. If you’re feeling anxious, or if you’re shrinking back into your shell a little bit, Luffy has this unbelievable ability to sense when you need a change of pace. Without even thinking about it, he’ll grab your hand and drag you off on some wild adventure, just to get your mind off things.

He doesn’t even need a reason—he just knows that you could use a distraction, and he’s the perfect person to provide it. Besides, that just gives him more time to spend with you! And, of course, he might offer you one of his beloved snacks or a full meal if you’re feeling off. Seriously, do you know how big that is? Luffy parting with his food is like a miracle in itself, so if he’s offering it to you, you better believe you’re special.

And let’s talk about the food thing for a sec. Do you even realize how big of a deal it is that Luffy shares his food with you? Like, do you know how many times he’s turned down offering a bite of his meat to anyone? Probably never. So when he hands you a piece of his prized food, you know it’s a huge honor. We’re talking sacred territory here.

If you ever doubted your place in Luffy’s heart, just remember: he shares his food with you. That’s a level of trust and affection that not even the grandest feast can outdo. Trust me, you’ve got a special place in his world, and it’s right next to the meat and maybe a little bit of the chaos.

Luffy’s naturally the type of guy who’d include you in absolutely everything—because why wouldn’t he? To him, you’re part of the crew, part of his world, and that means he’s going to drag you into every single bit of it.

You’d be minding your own business, maybe sitting quietly with your book or trying to sneak in a nap, when suddenly—BAM! Luffy's in front of you, grinning like a madman, already talking about the next big adventure or game that everyone’s playing. “C’mon, join us!” he’d say, and before you could protest, he’s already tossing you into the mix.

It’s not that he’s forcing you to join, though—Luffy just has this way of making you feel like you should be there, without ever putting you on the spot. His carefree, inclusive attitude makes it feel like the natural thing to do. You never feel pressure; you just feel... valued. Like you belong, whether you’re quietly cheering from the sidelines or joining in with your own brand of awkward enthusiasm.

It’s like Luffy’s energy is so contagious that you can’t help but want to be part of whatever insane thing he’s cooking up that day, even if it’s just watching him eat his weight in food and making random, nonsensical decisions.

If anyone ever crossed the line with you—teased you, made you uncomfortable, or said something that got under your skin—Luffy would flip the script faster than you can blink. That goofy, carefree grin would disappear in an instant, replaced by a rare, uncharacteristically serious expression.

Suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you like a human shield, ready to take down anyone who dared upset you. He’s usually a chaotic force of nature, but mess with his loved ones, and that’s when you see a side of him that is all about protecting you.

He wouldn’t hesitate to confront the person, his voice firm and unwavering. “Hey! That’s not cool! You don’t mess with my crew!” He’s not one for subtlety or second-guessing, so you’d know right away that Luffy’s on your side. If someone’s being rude or making you feel small, he’ll make sure they know they’ve messed with the wrongggggg person.

The crew’s used to this by now—because Luffy, despite his childish nature, would go to the ends of the earth to defend the people he cares about. You’d feel like the most important person in the world in that moment because, in his eyes, you are.

Luffy’s loyalty is on another level entirely. Once he’s decided he cares about someone, they’re in—no questions, no conditions, just pure, unfiltered loyalty. If you’re lucky enough to be someone Luffy loves, you’d know it in every grin, in every spontaneous gesture, and in every single, joyfully shouted “Let’s go!” You’d never have to second-guess where you stand with him, because Luffy’s affections are as clear as day, as honest and unwavering as the sea he dreams of conquering.

So whether you’re officially part of his crew or not, in his mind, you’re always one of them, and he’d tell anyone who’ll listen, “Yeah, they’re with me!” with a pride that’d make your heart swell.

The best part? Luffy would constantly invite you to tag along on whatever wild journey or ridiculous stunt he’s about to pull. There’d be no hesitation; it’d be, “Hey! Let’s go on an adventure!” as if going on an impromptu quest was as simple as taking a stroll to the market. It’s almost like Luffy has this unspoken rule: every exciting, crazy, fun thing has to be experienced with you.

From treasure hunts that end up in unexpected fights with sea kings to races through bustling ports (where he definitely has no idea where he’s running but is laughing the whole time), Luffy wants you there, right in the middle of it all. You’d probably sigh at the thought of jumping headfirst into another unpredictable situation, but Luffy’s enthusiasm is like a gravitational pull—it’s impossible to resist.

And thank goodness for that, because your timid self wouldn’t stand a chance at taking the lead in any of these wild endeavors. Luckily, Luffy’s the type to charge forward, dragging you along by the hand with zero doubts and zero plans. He makes all the decisions for both of you, which, sure, sometimes means ending up lost on an island full of very angry, very large monkeys because, “They looked friendly!”

You’d feel a mix of exasperation and endearment at his antics. He doesn’t realize it, but his willingness to be the fearless leader—even if his plans are sometimes made with the strategic prowess of a rubber chicken—takes the pressure off you. You don’t have to stress over decisions or worry about whether you’re doing the right thing, because Luffy’s already ten steps ahead (probably literally sprinting) and dragging you along with a confidence that borders on reckless.

And honestly? That’s part of the charm. His “plans” might be half-baked and a little foolish, but he makes up for it by being completely and unapologetically himself.

You’d find yourself smiling more than you ever expected, getting swept up in the whirlwind that is Luffy, and realizing that being with him means never feeling alone, even if you’re quiet or shy.

His laughter, his outbursts, and his impulsive decisions would all become things you cherish, because with him leading the way, life feels a little less scary and a lot more exciting.

ACE

Ace is all warmth and energy, like a bonfire on a chilly night, and he’d go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable in his presence. Despite his natural tendency for excitement and spontaneity, he’d be mindful of your shyness, making a conscious effort to dial down the volume when needed.

You’d catch him lowering his voice a bit, softening his laughter, or even sitting a little closer with a reassuring grin. His laid-back nature would do wonders for your anxiety, melting it away bit by bit like ice under the sun. He’d take a more casual, playful approach when he’s with you, balancing his liveliness with a kind of gentle attentiveness that makes your heart feel at ease.

Ace has a knack for starting conversations, even if the topic is completely random. He’d sense your hesitance and jump in without skipping a beat. “Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook for the crew and accidentally set a whole forest on fire?” he’d start, eyes twinkling as he watches your reaction.

His stories are always ridiculous—stories of clumsy mishaps, epic pranks gone wrong, or that one time he fell asleep mid-battle. You’d find yourself laughing in spite of yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing as you realize he’s making himself the butt of the joke, just to make you feel more at ease. He’d keep talking until he sees that spark of amusement in your eyes, and then keep going, his smile growing wider every time you giggle.

And Ace’s teasing? Oh, he’d be a master of that fine line between making you laugh and making you blush. He’d lean in, smirking just enough to be charming, and say, “What’s this? A smile? I knew it was in there somewhere.” His playful comments would come with a wink and a laugh, just enough to make your face warm, but never enough to make you feel like you’re being put on the spot.

If he ever saw you growing quiet or noticed that hint of panic in your eyes, he’d immediately back off, switching to a softer tone and throwing in a quick “I’m just messing with ya” followed by that disarming grin of his.

Ace would be incredibly in tune with your reactions, watching for the tiniest signs that you’re feeling overwhelmed. The moment he picks up on it, he’d change gears—maybe suggesting a quiet spot on deck where you could sit together and watch the stars, or offering to take a walk to get some fresh air. He’d brush off the seriousness with a light, “Hey, it’s just us. No pressure, alright?” The way he says it makes you feel safe, like it’s just you and him against the world, no expectations or worries allowed.

Ace is the definition of a warm hug in human form, so being a tactile person comes naturally to him. But when it comes to you, he’d show an impressive amount of restraint—not an easy feat for someone who’d usually throw an arm around a friend without thinking twice. Well, you’re not just his friend but his lover, obviously—but what I’m getting at us that he’s a pretty affectionate guy.

He’d start small, easing you into it with light touches: a friendly pat on the shoulder when you share a joke, a playful ruffle of your hair that would leave you smiling and maybe a little flustered. You’d catch the subtle glances he’d shoot you afterward, as if he’s silently checking, Was that okay? Did that make you uncomfortable? It’s endearing how he’s so in tune with your comfort level, his natural affection turned into a gentle dance of patience and care.

As time went on and your confidence around him grew, Ace would start to introduce more meaningful touches. He’d sneak in side hugs when you’re sitting together, leaning into you with that easygoing smile of his that made your heart race. And when the day finally came that you leaned into him on your own, whether it was out of exhaustion or just because you felt safe, the soft, proud look on his face would be priceless.

Ace would make a big deal out of it in the quietest way possible, his hand finding yours in a reassuring squeeze as if to say, Hey, look at you, being brave. Eventually, he’d graduate to full-on snuggling when you were comfortable, and the first time he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close, you’d know just how deeply he cared.

And when social situations become too much—because let’s face it, Ace has a lot of friends and a magnetic personality that draws people in—he’d be the first to notice if you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.

In those moments, he’d spring into action without making it obvious. He’d tell a ridiculously over-the-top story, one that would steal the spotlight from everyone else and have the whole room’s attention fixed on him, leaving you a moment to breathe.

Ace would always throw himself into being the distraction, whether it meant cracking jokes or reenacting a failed stunt that ended with him pretending to trip over his own feet. He’d shoot you a quick wink in the middle of it, as if to say, See? I’ve got you.

It’s not that he wanted to be the center of attention—okay, maybe a little, but only when it’s for you.

He’d take on the role of court jester, chaos-maker, or even reluctant hero if it meant taking the pressure off you for a while. If anyone questioned it, he’d brush it off with a laugh and a shrug, all while keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.

And if things really got too much, Ace wouldn’t hesitate to steer you away from the noise altogether, leaning in close and saying, “Let’s get outta here for a bit, yeah?” He’d lead you somewhere quieter, a hand on your arm or fingers interlaced with yours, the simple touch grounding you as you walked.

You’d both end up somewhere peaceful, maybe under the stars or by a flickering campfire, where he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder and say, “You don’t have to explain. Just take your time.” And you would, with the steady thump of his heartbeat right next to yours, knowing he’d take on the world just to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

Ace would be your number one cheerleader, hyped beyond belief over every little victory you achieved. You managed to say something in a group conversation? He’d beam at you like you just solved world peace. “Look at you go! You’re amazing!” he’d shout, probably a bit louder than necessary, with that signature grin that lights up his entire face.

If you reached out to touch his arm or, heaven forbid, initiated a hug, there’d be a solid five minutes of him staring at you in delighted disbelief before breaking out into an excited, “Did you just—? You did! You did!”

What you might not notice is that whenever you step even half a toe out of your comfort zone, Ace is in the background punching the air with all the subtlety of an over-caffeinated kid at a birthday party.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny thing, like making eye contact with someone new, or a big step like saying a few words in front of the crew—Ace is celebrating it like you just discovered the One Piece itself.

He might look a bit unhinged to anyone passing by, but he’s never cared about that. You’re his person, and your wins are his wins. He’s just out here being the proudest guy alive, punching invisible foes and mouthing, That’s my partner!

And the way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the most priceless treasure in the world, and not just in the fleeting, pirate-wants-your-gold way. No, Ace’s gaze is full of warmth and genuine awe, the kind that makes you feel like you’re wrapped in a blanket of sunshine.

When you speak, whether it’s a confident statement or a hesitant mumble, Ace is all ears. His eyes would fix on you with this almost comically serious expression, nodding along like you’re revealing some ancient, life-altering secret.

You could point to the sky and say, “That’s the sky,” and he’d respond with a deep, earnest nod and a wide grin, “Exactly! I love that you noticed!” The rest of the crew might shake their heads and mutter things like, “Here they go again,” but Ace doesn’t care. If it matters to you, it matters to him—simple as that.

It doesn’t matter how mundane your observation is or how shyly you say it; to Ace, every word is golden. He’d hang on every syllable as if you were weaving a tale worthy of a bard’s song. You’d catch him repeating things you said back to you later, just to show he’d remembered, saying things like, “Oh yeah, like you said the other day, the sky really was a perfect blue.”

It’s almost ridiculous, but that’s Ace—he’d make you feel like every tiny thing you did was extraordinary, because in his eyes, it truly is.

SABO

Sabo is the calm breeze compared to the whirlwinds that are Luffy and Ace, which makes him the perfect blend of approachable and comforting.

With his natural ease and warm, diplomatic demeanor, you’d find yourself feeling more at peace around him sooner than you’d expect. Sabo’s the kind of person who could have a conversation with anyone, but when he’s with you, you’d feel like you’re the only one in the world that matters.

He’s just got this knack for making everything feel safe, like he’s a sturdy anchor in a storm. If you ever started to feel overwhelmed, Sabo would be the first to notice, with a quiet attentiveness that doesn’t scream I’m watching you but more like I’m here if you need me.

He’d be a master of subtlety, paying close attention to what made you nervous and what helped you open up, all without making it seem like he was analyzing you. You’d catch him making mental notes when you shifted uncomfortably or lit up at something specific. He’s probably like, “Write that down, write that down!” in his head.

And he’d use those observations to make your interactions more comfortable. If he noticed that certain topics or big crowds made you anxious, he’d steer conversations towards lighter things or find a reason to take a quiet walk somewhere less crowded.

Sabo would never rush you into sharing more than you were ready for. He understands that trust is built slowly, like adding logs to a fire, not dumping gasoline on it and hoping for the best.

Sabo would show his affection in the most considerate ways, taking into account what you’d find comforting rather than overwhelming. That being said, grand and dramatic gestures aren’t his style when it comes to you; he’d save those for his other acts of rebellion.

With you, he’d stick to smaller, more intimate actions. He’d brush his fingers across yours before holding your hand, always making sure it was welcome. He’d lean in a little closer when you’re talking, eyes fixed on you with that soft, attentive gaze of his that makes you feel like you have all the time in the world.

There’d be moments when he’d reach out with a light touch on your arm, or just the simple press of his shoulder against yours when you sat side by side, enough to let you know he was there but never too much to make you uncomfortable.

It’s like he has a sixth sense for what was just the right amount of closeness. And if you ever looked unsure or nervous, Sabo’s eyes would catch yours, full of warmth and encouragement, like he was silently saying, Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.

The patience he’d show would be unmatched; you could almost hear him mentally cheering you on even if you were just picking your words slowly or taking a deep breath before saying something important.

And the way he’d support you? Subtle but powerful. If you ever found yourself second-guessing or fumbling, he’d quietly step in to help redirect the conversation or offer a reassuring comment. “I think that’s a great point,” he’d say with genuine enthusiasm, giving you that extra boost of confidence.

And when you’d catch him watching you speak, the look in his eyes would always be one of admiration—never judgment, never pressure, just pure, patient support. And whether it’s a simple chat or a quiet walk together, Sabo’s presence would be your reminder that you’re valued, seen, and cherished, just as you are.

When it came to conversations, Sabo would be your guy for deep, meaningful talks, but with a healthy dose of humor to keep things light. He’d pick the coziest, quietest corner on the ship or at a café, leaning in with a thoughtful smile and saying, “Alright, you ready to hear some top-secret stories about Ace and Luffy’s greatest flops?” And he’d be off, recounting tales of Luffy trying to eat something he really, really shouldn’t have or Ace’s legendary nap times that ended in near-disaster.

His stories are designed not just to make you laugh, but to remind you that even these larger-than-life brothers were and still are total dorks sometimes. And before you know it, you’re easing into sharing a few of your own stories, prompted by his gentle encouragement and the safety his presence provided.

If there was ever a moment where you hinted at wanting to join in on an activity or step outside your comfort zone, Sabo would light up like someone just told him there was free cake on deck. But instead of jumping up and down and looking crazy, Sabo’s celebration would be the dignified, internal kind.

Picture a boardroom in his mind filled with 10 tiny Sabos all jumping out of their chairs, high-fiving each other, and throwing confetti in the air. On the outside, he’d just offer you that calm, reassuring grin and a simple, “You’ve got this. And if not, we’ll laugh about it later, yeah?”

He’d be your biggest silent cheerleader, always ready with a patient hand to guide you or a subtle nudge if you needed it. If you wanted to join in on a game or join a conversation but hesitated, Sabo would seamlessly include you, making it feel natural and not like he was pointing out your shyness.

He’d say things like, “Hey, I think Y/N would be perfect for this—what do you think?” and then shoot you a wink that says, See? Not so bad, right? And when you took that first step, whether it was a comment or a hesitant laugh at a joke, Sabo’s inner cheering squad would be losing their collective minds.

So while Ace might be punching the air and Luffy would probably shout, “You did it!” at full volume, Sabo would play it cool—at least on the outside. But don’t be fooled. The minute he see’s you trying something new or making a move outside your comfort zone, those 10 tiny Sabos in his head would be throwing a full-on carnival, complete with fireworks and dancing.

And he’d just keep giving you that look that said, You’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Because to him, you’re always worth celebrating, no matter what.

If there’s one thing Sabo doesn’t tolerate, it’s someone messing with the people he cares about. So if he spotted you feeling uncomfortable or noticed someone trying to be intimidating, he’d swoop in with the subtlety of a master diplomat. Sabo wouldn’t make a scene, but instead, he’d redirect the situation like an absolute pro.

Maybe he’d throw out a well-timed joke, ask a question that shifts the focus, or suddenly develop an urgent need for your opinion on something random, like, “Hey, didn’t you say you know a lot about… apples?” The offender would be left blinking, and you’d find yourself in a new conversation before you even realized what happened. Crisis averted, all thanks to Sabo’s suave social maneuvering.

And then there’s Sabo’s sweeter side—his covert operation of affection. He knows that grand, dramatic proclamations can sometimes make you want to dive head-first into the nearest bush, so he’s perfected the art of subtle, heartfelt gestures.

He’d leave little handwritten notes tucked in places he knows you’ll find, maybe in your favorite book or slipped under your plate at breakfast. Each note would be filled with the kind of genuine, thoughtful words that would make your heart do an embarrassing little flip. They’d say things like, I know you’re stronger than you think, and I can’t wait for the world to see it, too, or The stars were beautiful last night, but not as much as seeing you smile today.

And don’t even get started on the letters. Oh, the letters. Sabo would write you these intricate, beautifully crafted notes that read like they came straight from the heart of a poet who’s just returned from a victorious battle.

He could have just finished a day of intense Revolutionary Army missions, covered in dust and exhaustion, but you’d still get a note that starts with, Hey, you. I’m thinking about you, and ends with some metaphor about how your presence makes the world brighter, even when he’s knee-deep in chaos.

You’d find trinkets, too—maybe a small charm he found that reminded him of you or a pressed flower from somewhere he thought was pretty. It’s the little things that would make your day and remind you that, no matter what chaos he’s wrapped up in with the Revolutionary Army, you’re always on his mind. And when you’d look up at him, cheeks flushed from finding yet another one of his notes or small gifts, Sabo would just grin that charming, lopsided grin and say, “Did you find it? Good. I meant every word.”

He’s protective, thoughtful, and romantic in a way that feels like it’s tailored just for you. And even if he’s balancing the weight of revolutions and strategic plans, Sabo makes sure you know that you’re not just part of his life—you’re the best part.

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aurae-rori · 2 days ago

Text

okay so hear me out i have a genius idea

yanqing in sumeru. (yes, the obvious option would be to put him in liyue, but i honestly don't feel like writing that right now).

yanqing and cyno interactions.

YANQING AND WANDERER INTERACTIONS.

now that i've caught your attention-

yanqing falls through a wormhole or something. ends up stranded in sumeru. like, right in sumeru city. he wakes up in an alleyway and is like genuinely, what the mcflipping fuck. so he wanders through sumeru, talks to a few people who have NEVER heard of the xianzhou luofu, and eventually, someone reports him to the corps of 30 because there is an unsupervised foreign child who keeps on talking about a xianzhou luofu, what the FUCK is a xianzhou luofu.

they take him in to the matra, he answers a couple of questions, EVERYONE involved is confused as shit, so they pull out cyno. yanqing talks to him and hes like. you remind me of my dad. hahaha. and cyno is like. okay this kid is telling the truth. so we're gonna have to keep him around until we figure out a way to send him back to the luofu.

(this gets really long)

he does not want to go into a fucking rainforest, so he ends up rooming with kaveh & alhaitham after spending a few nights with nahida and bonding with her (i believe they r friends,,,) and she reccomends that he go to stay with them. yanqing is very polite and doesn't make his prsence known a lot because he is genuinely kind of afraid of the two of them even tho they are really nice to him, and one day he goes out and he just wanders through the streets of sumeru and bumps into the wanderer. he introduces himself as 'hat guy' and a friend of nahida's, so yanqing is like, oh, cool. wait, what? your name is HAT GUY?

cue bullying wanderer. and wanderer is like, this kid doesn't know who he's fucking talking to wtf and maybe they end up sparring or something. i think they would bond over fighting and yanqing would pick up a few tips and tricks from wanderer, who probably is secretly like, 'this kid has talent what the fuck where did this child even come from'. eventually after they spar for a bit yanqing ends up telling him more about the xianzhou and from that interaction with wanderer, he starts to come out of his shell more. he eats dinner with kaveh and alhaitham, and gets used to their bickering. he goes to see cyno again and meets tighnari and collei, even faruzan who probably takes a liking to him. people take him to nilou's shows. when candace and dehya visit from the desert he gets to meet them too.

and slowly, over time, they start to get to know him more. he tells them stories of the high cloud quintet, from their rise to their fall. he tells them about the borisin, and hoolay, and feixiao. he tells them about jiaoqiu and his bravery, sushang and her determination, huohuo and tail. he tells them about yunli's bravery and brashness, about jing yuan's patience and slyness, of moze's shennanigans and loyalty.

he tells them broken bits and pieces of stories and then, he tells them about the xianzhou history. he tells them about mara. he tells them about how he's had to cut down soldiers so much older than him that he wouldn't even know when they were born.

he tells them about the disciples of abundance, in little, clipped stories.

and they listen.

he draws his friends, too. he's not too great at it, but he draws them, and tells cyno that he reminds him so much of his dad. he plays tcg with them, joins them for game night. drags wanderer into social interactions, explores sumeru, watches the sun set from the trees.

he makes them little mementos of himself. he commissions someone to make a little bird charm out of materials he gathers up. and then he gives them to his friends, and when jing yuan inevitably comes to see him home (he wants to go back, he loves it here but he loves his home more) they will be able to remember him.

yanqing learns that defeat is okay. he learns that he can be loved. and that people are really complex, and that love can be shown in different ways. yanqing learns that he can love, too. :)

wow this turned way longer than i thought it would so uh. hope u enjoy my nonsensical ramblings!

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merakiui · 1 day ago

Note

going back to read your contractual fwb azul cause it’s my favourite fic ever and i have to wonder; what would azul do if you never used his wishes to your own advantage? like it was always small stuff, so you ended up having to get a new job (sex is banned and let’s pretend like theres some random cafe on sage island or something like that you’re picking up shifts. just not the monstro lounge) and the hours you work there give him less time. would he beg you to use his money? to take advantage of him? it feels like the terms he picked also come from a domestic standpoint of wanting to provide for you. and your new job is really getting in the way of that. rely on him and no one else >:(

(also i’d like to imagine you falling asleep sitting in his lap in his office chair sometime before the confession so he carries you back to his room and you spend the night. the next morning you wake up to him pulling away and in your extremely sleep deprived mind you get upset that he’s leaving. cue him promising he’ll be back—maybe a quick round just so he can get you to wish it and no it’s definitely not because he wants sleepy morning sex—and eventually he comes to wake you back up with flowers, tea (you know the one), and telling you you have a day off somehow.) thank you for listening to my tiny brain rambles

hiiiiiii this is just a question i forgot to add to my last ask that i submitted like 2 seconds ago.

how does your relationship with azul go now that you’re actually in one and not just fwb? like does he still spoil you with whatever you ask for in exchange for sex or just give it to you and sex happens whenever? (more than the average couple cause, cmon) he gave you the fish shoes even though you lost so it stands that he’d spoil the hell out of you whenever he can

- - -

Hi hiiii!! :D omg contractual fwb tako..... I miss thinking about that fic. Peak Azul is him developing a relationship with darling via contractual means and slowly but surely the feelings shift (through dubious efforts hehehe). >:D that dynamic is just so *chef's kiss*!!!!!

Oooo if reader got a job!!! If not at the lounge, which is secretly what Azul hopes, then the place better pay good wages and the hours and work better be reasonable!! >:( he won't have his angelfish struggle. Maybe he'd even visit you during your shifts on occasion and make up some excuse like "I need to know what sort of competition the lounge has" blah blah blah etc etc even though it's quite clear he's checking up on you. T_T I like to think Azul wants you to take advantage of him because it's a deal in which you're both using the other for certain things, so wouldn't that make the most sense?? That's how the logic works in his give-and-take, equivalent-exchange brain.

Azul gets really particularly when it comes to giving gifts and he always seems to want a valid reason for the exchange (like in Glomas where he buys souvenirs for his dorm so that they can remember this good deed and know that they are technically indebted to him even though to Deuce and Epel it appears as though he's just being a kind Housewarden). But also,,, he's so iffy when it comes to accepting gifts himself and always seems to think there's some underlying reason behind it. ^^;; perhaps he'd just feel more comfortable if you were openly using him and this deal to your benefit just as he's doing the same with you. It's probably why he even makes the terms so domestic because, beneath all of the pompous showmanship and businessman flair, he genuinely wants to provide for you and make your life better and be your beloved. <3 but because he's Azul he can't just tell you that. >_<

AAAAA FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS OFFICE!!!!! OTL waking up in his bed all bleary-eyed and sleepy....... grabbing at his arm and begging him to stay,,, the sleepy morning sex... maybe it's the one moment he allows just some of his defenses to fall because most of yours are nonexistent in this moment. Having sex just to have sex without any thoughts about your contract..... of course he's still going to remind you later and insist you use one of your wishes/favors since you technically indulged him with sex, but then you wanted it, too. He's so fussy!!!! Please just ask him for something—anything! He isn't going to beg, but sometimes you really do make him contemplate it when you're so determined to not make use of him and his connections.

You're one of Azul's greatest weaknesses and if you know this then you can easily exploit this because this tako adores you. He is so utterly whipped. Whatever you want, you can have it. Spoiling you is one of his many love languages. He loves giving you gifts, especially when he knows they'll make you happy. Like those silly fish slippers. They are so dumb, but they make his angelfish smile and that's enough reason to purchase them for you. I think once you're in a real relationship the fwb contract is dissolved, but a lot of what you did during those two months still occurs into your relationship. Like the smoldering tension and the chemistry. The silly banter and smart quips. The attraction. And of course lots of love (real and potion-induced mwahaha) and sex. He railed you once in mer form and you better believe he'll do it again now that he's slowly finding the confidence to do so with you.

#twisted chit chat #i miss that reader/azul pairing so much omg they're so silly and fun <3 #fun fact i actually wrote the contractual fwb fic during the worst time in my life T^T #my mental health was in the ground but that wasn't going to stop me from writing tentacle sex LOL

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artslovergirl · 1 day ago

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art & patrick at mark rebellato academy

[headcanons]

notes: i really enjoyed writing this because i just genuinely adore these characters and this movie so much. there's so many interesting little details and nuances there that i could just talk about forever and ever. i truly hope i did them justice here lol (also writing this made me jealous of people that are good at writing character analysis' and thinkpieces bc wow it is hard!) but yeah enjoy!

wordcount: 3.4k

they met at age 12 during their first day at the mark rebellato academy in their now shared room.

when art came in with a duffel bag (that looked comically big next to his scrawny kid body) patrick was already sitting on the bed he had claimed(the right side next to the door) all by himself, his parents didn't have a very tearful nor long goodbye as they sent their son off to boarding school.

in contrast art’s mom and grandma seemed keen to embarrass him in front of his new roommate with their cooing and hugging him goodbye.

it wasn't even like his mom and him were really all that close though. she just seemed to want to squeeze in all the moments of a loving mother-son relationship into the small segments of time she actually spent with him.

the goodbye hug and small ruffle of his hair from his grandma felt a little more genuine. embarrassing all the same as he could feel the other dark haired boy try not to crack up at the display.

"mom. please." he pleaded with her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "i’m sorry, artie, but i need to make up for all the time i'm gonna miss with you!" yeah, he bets.

a few minutes later and a tear or two from his mother they did finally leave him be. as soon as he heard the door shut though, the awkward silence enveloping the room almost made him miss them.

he threw his duffel bag on the left bed and sat down on the edge. he fidgeted with his bottom lip, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he could remember.

the brunette boy shifted on the bed so he was now facing him. his mouth pulled into a toothy grin "so you're...artie?"

art groaned and hid his head in his hands, slumped over his knees. "no, that's..just my moms nickname for me. sorry you had to see that." he says in a squeaky broken voice which didn't help the embarrassment he was already feeling.

the other boy just brushed right past all that and said "i’m patrick." and then as an afterthought, "zweig."

"uh." art leaned back up, still avoiding his gaze. it was weirdly intense. "yeah, i’m..art. um, donaldson." he said the last part like it was a question almost.

patrick began to swing his legs a little. it was clear to him that art was the quiet type even if they had just exchanged a few words so far, but luckily patrick didn't mind talking. it was something his father always hated about him. he almost talked enough for both of them which after a little while finally seemed to break the ice of art's shy exterior.

art didnt know what he thought about patrick yet. he was pretty..confident that was for sure. even a little arrogant, maybe. art scolded himself internally for being so judgemental. it was quality he hated about himself, but seemingly couldn’t get rid of.

despite all of that he had to admit that patrick was easy to talk to. there was never an uncomfortable gap in conversation with him. which art liked since those kinds of things made him want to crawl out of his skin sometimes.

that first night he spent staying up with patrick, slowly realizing how much they had in common while simultaneously being complete opposites, is one of his fondest memories and probably always will be. he never experienced another connection that felt anything even close to that.

their room wasn't too small but with the way patrick would just constantly toss his clothes wherever he pleased it seemed a lot smaller.

it's not like art was insanely neat or anything, he was still a teenage boy. patrick was just exceptionally messy.

"patrick, this shit is so gross, i told you to use the hamper."

patrick groaned, "youre such a neatfreak, fuck off."

at that response a pair of dirty boxers were thrown at his head, courtesy of art. "i don't want to see or smell your worn underwear. that doesn't make me a neatfreak."

patrick just tossed it back in art’s direction, to which the blonde quickly scurried out of the way to dodge it like his life depended on it.

"you know if tennis doesn't work out for you, you'll make a good housewife." patrick grinned mockingly.

“ha-ha.” art just rolled his eyes, stuck up his middle finger and let the door slam behind him with his racket bag slung over his shoulder.

trying to get patrick to do anything was like trying to teach a cat to do a trick without any treats. borderline impossible. so by age 15 art finally gave up.

...until he realized a year later that patrick would clean his side of the room whenever they had a girl over so..

yeah, sometimes he did lie and tell patrick that a girl was coming over just so he would clean his side of the room.

you can judge him all you want but you never had to room with patrick zweig

and after the third time that trick stopped working anyway. art was never a good liar. or maybe patrick could just call his bullshit way too easily.

they didn't fight too often, it was more like they constantly got into little tiffs

except for that time where it got so out of hand that they duct-taped a line dividing their rooms into two sides. (i know this is giving sitcom i'm sorry but tell me i'm wrong)

eventually they kind of forgot what they even fought about in the first place but they were too lazy to take the tape off of the carpet, so it just stayed on there for like 2 years till it peeled off.

like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES

they would def talk shit all the time. they were not even trying to be secret about it tbh. (see: them staring at anna crying at tashi's party)

they sat in the bleachers watching one of their classmates play a practice match

“dude, look at that forehand. it sucks.” art muttered. patrick nodded, “i know. no way she’ll even make it through the semester.” “i’ll be surprised if she makes it through this match without fracturing her wrist.” patrick snickered at art’s comment.

actual mean girls LMAO

and to be fair, they were fucking amazing at tennis, especially when they played together

so it's not like anyone could necessarily insult them back

but it also wasn't bullying or anything

they were just judgy and loved to talk shit

art had some decorum about it or felt bad about it sometimes. not patrick though.

man has no shame. never did. as art so lovingly puts it “the part of his brain that feels shame withered away a long time ago.”

art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14

he then switched to contact lenses because patrick said girls dont like guys with glasses and that they make him look nerdy

they weren't allowed to have any sort of electronics like computers or flip phones at the academy. not even mp3 players.

now obviously patrick completely ignored that rule. he had like three flip phones under his bed in case his actual one ever got taken (it did)

he also smuggled in 2 mp3 players (one was for art, patrick is so kind… he did charge him 4 dollars for it though. that rich asshole. lmao)

honestly i would like to insert here what i think they would have listened to but..i was like..a baby when they wouldve been at the academy so..feel free to drop your music headcanons in the reblogs or comments

they were only allowed one weekly call to their families from the communal landline.

neither patrick nor art were very fond of these calls so even though they weren't supposed to they would always go into the phone room together.

patricks mother always insisted on speaking in german with her son. he thought she only did it because it made her feel more connected to his father’s side of the family. not like it would fix their fucked up marriage though.

“nein, mama, ich habe mein deutsch nicht vergessen.” (no, mom, i havent forgotten my german) he sighs. art sits on the floor next to him and flicks a rubber band at him. “ja, verstanden. ja, ich weiß.” (yes, understood. yes, i know.) he rolls his eyes.

art understood a few of the basic words since patrick taught him some german after art asked how to correctly pronounce his last name.

“..bis nächste woche. tschüss.” (talk to you next week. bye.) he hung up. his mom said i love you but he knew she didn't mean it so he didn't say it back.

patrick groaned and stretched out his legs that were seemingly getting longer by the day (art secretly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him taller than patrick. right now he was still pretty short for a guy his age.)

he handed the phone to art. “she always talks so much. it's like i'm not even on the other line.” patrick scowls. art just nodded. he knew that by now.

art called his grandma but his dad picked up instead. it was okay. talking to his dad felt a little like talking to some distant uncle that he only saw once a year, “how's it going, champ?” “good.” “great.” that kinda stuff

the phone call lasted 5 minutes. he stood up and hung the phone back on the receiver.

“wanna smoke?” patrick asked already reaching for the two loose cigarettes stuffed into his jean shorts pocket.

art nodded. he didn't really like smoking, and he kind of only did it because patrick did. and whenever he did, all he could think about was how bad for him it was.

he was always pretty conscious about that kinda stuff, it was a little drilled into him by his dad who was the most adamant about art becoming a tennis player since he used to be one when he was younger.

so sugar and fats (basically anything that tasted good) were pretty much banned in the donaldson household

which kind of resulted in art subconsciously believing that anything that brought him joy or pleasure must be inherently bad for him or followed by a feeling of guilt and shame to make up for it.

needless to say art wasn't the best at indulging. he was a little jealous of how patrick never seemed to have any issue with that sort of thing.

patrick didn't care about maintaining a good diet or depriving himself of life's pleasures for the sake of tennis. he took what he wanted like life owed it to him.

maybe that's why he smoked with patrick. to try and be more like him?

also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.

most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.

at the academy they were the definition of ‘not sold separately’

if you saw one the other wasn't far behind

its not like they didn't have other friends. they did. they were pretty popular actually

but none of those friendships were anything like what art and patrick had.

especially when playing doubles.

it felt like they could communicate telepathically

patrick knew when art was going for the ball before the other team even served and vice versa.

tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.

and it felt so easy, it felt like nothing they needed to work on. their friendship was the same. it was so easy, so natural.

after about a year or so of being friends they started being in sync. literally.

they cross their legs at the same time, they pick up their rackets at the same time, they adjust their forehand grip at the same time, they walk at the same pace, they sit down the same etc etc you get it

also that isn't really a headcanon, like this is canon in the movie. and it makes me SICK that they were still in sync in 2019. after not talking for 12 years. shut up that’s some soulmate shit

now let's talk about something else that is canon…the pushed together beds.

yes!

now, i think patrick is a person that is pretty open with his body in general in terms of like being physically affectionate. or just being physical.

i don't know if art is, i think he's a little more reserved. (repressed if you will! i will!)

but patrick touching him so casually does fill a little tiny (gaping) void in him that yearns for touch.

he is a professional yearner as we all know

and patrick never had an issue satisfying those yearnings for him. (i think we saw that in the fact that patrick taught art how to jerk off ok next topic)

patrick would sling his arm around his shoulder, lay his long legs over arts lap, ruffle arts curls (“stop that, you're messing them up.” “no, i'm not they always look like this”),he would barge into their room after practice flopping his tall sweaty body on top of art to annoy him.

they were very physically affectionate it was just all under the guise of shoving and tripping each other and just general teenage boy roughhousing shenanigans. that counts as a love language to me ok!

art got used to patrick touching him very quick and even reciprocated sometimes

also i do think that sometimes patrick would smack art’s ass as a joke. lol. (that's inspired by that video of the two doubles players doing that…do you guys know what i’m talking about)

OK SO!

the beds.

they were 16. patrick suggested it. “these beds are too fucking small.” he complained, laying on his staring at the smoke detector that he had covered with a shower cap so it wouldnt detect the smoke from his cigarettes.

and to be fair…yeah. patrick stood at 1,80 cm right now and his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

art looked up from his book which he was only reading to impress a girl he had a crush on. patrick had told him to just pretend he read it but art said that was disingenuous and he wanted to know what she liked and why she liked it.

“you know what we should do? we should push our beds together.” patrick sat up, grinning like he just had the best idea ever.

arts features twisted up in thought. “isn't that a little close?”

“nah, why, we still have our own beds. just more space.” patrick shrugged.

he glanced at their beds. “uhhh…i guess we can do that. the beds are a little cramped. although is that even allowed?” art began fidgeting with his lip like he usually did when he was in thought.

but patrick was already in the process of shoving his bed next to arts after which he let himself fall onto the two beds in a starfish position, with his gangly limbs almost stretching to every corner of the beds. “oh. great. and i’ll just curl up at the foot of the bed then?” art gave patrick a deadpan stare.

“up to you.” patrick grinned in that specific way that really irked art.

patrick did make some space for him once they actually went to sleep that night

even now they were two opposites making a whole

patrick always ran cold so he hogged all the blankets and art always ran hot so he immediately kicked them off of him as soon as he fell asleep

that only made this new pushed together beds thing even better for patrick because he now got to have his own blanket AND steal arts every night

i wouldn't say they cuddled necessarily? i think it was more just like the regular amount of physical touching that happens when you sleep in the same bed

which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys

like their legs kind of thrown over each others, art’s arm occasionally draped over patricks chest (or literally on his face. art denies every time that he does it on purpose but patrick KNOWS he does it to annoy him. he knows.)

one time art had a nightmare of being trapped under a rock only to wake up and find out that somehow patrick had rolled over in the middle of the night and was now laying COMPLETELY on top of art. right before he was about to push him off (because he was making art actively suffocate) patrick rolled over again and fell out of bed. he didn't even wake up from that. genuinely just slept on the floor that night. freak of nature that guy.

also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep

and i think it used to wake art up because he's a pretty light sleeper but eventually he just got used to it lol

when art went to stanford he never finished the last bite of anything he ate because he was so used to patrick being next to him and just stealing the last bite.

patrick really really wanted to get his ears pierced when he was 15.

so naturally he asked art to do it for him.

you know…like how they did it in the parent trap. which if you asked them is a movie that they definitely haven't seen. ( but they did see it and art cried at the twins reuniting with their parents, oops.)

unfortunately for patrick art was very very squeamish with needles at that age (i think that mellowed down the older he got but he still refused to look whenever he got vaccinations or anything like that.)

so now it was midnight, they were in their room sitting on the floor and arguing

“dude, just do it, stop being such a wuss. you're not even the one getting pierced.” patrick groaned, he had numbed his earlobe with ice but he could already feel a little bit of the feeling return to it, that's how long they had been sitting there with art squirming around because he hated even looking at the sewing needle.

“that's worse though because i have to look at the needle going in your ear!” art argued

“ well, i can't do it myself.” patrick replied.

...

“are you wearing my shirt?” art squinted at him

“stop trying to change the subject.”

“i told you to stop stealing my clothes. i don't want to do laundry that often.”

“can you focus?” patrick groaned

“dude.. okay, fine. just give me a second.” art took a deep breath.

“oh. my god. you're not performing open heart surgery.”

“shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up.”

and what do you know that response got art to get over his fear of needles for a second and stab that thing right through his best friends ear

the little high pitched yelp patrick let out in surprise at that is something art didn't let him forget about for like two weeks after

it took about another hour for art to pierce patricks second ear and eventually they managed but then like a week later patrick forgot to put his earrings in and the piercings immediately grew shut

so all that drama was for nothing!

i think art has always kind of been the type of guy to want domesticity.

i already posted about this somewhere but i kind of came to that conclusion because patrick said “he wants to spend time with his family” to tashi in the alley scene

patrick hadn’t spoken to art for like a decade at that point

and you could say it's a good guess but NO!

patrick knows art like the back of his hand and patrick knows that art has always wanted a family and how much it probably kills him to miss out on time with them due to his career at that point in time (also just throwing this out there i think art always wanted to have a daughter more than a son, like that just makes sense to me. maybe bc i think his own relationship with his dad is so distant? idk!)

so yeah

also the sauna scene where patrick says that marriage isn't what he was for

(to me) also implies that he is the opposite of art who was meant for marriage

anyway do i think that art shared his wishes for a family and marriage in the future with patrick? yes

do i think patrick jokingly made art promise to make him his best man? yeah

and furthermore do i think about the fact that patrick then had to read about arts wedding in some tabloid years later? yep!

i’m sure i could think of more in the future but that's all i've got for now! i hope this was coherent enough to enjoy because it’s not as proofread as my fics usually are lol! i just wanted to get these thoughts out there

if some of these seem familiar it might be because i took some of these from my twt!

i also have some more headcanons floating around on my tumblr that i didn't include here if you want to find those, or not, i'm not your mom!

#challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #artrick #challengers fanfic #challengers headcanons #challengers fic #ames writes~!

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haveihitanerve · 1 day ago

Note

Had an idea but I forgor it so here's a different one

Bruce Wayne, concussed and on several strong painkillers, socializing with socialites from outside Gotham. They ask him about his kids and joke about how they all look so similar to him.

His brain, moving at about 3mph, does not register that his kids were ADOPTED (safe for one) and answers their questions as if he gave birth to them, forgetting he also doesn't have the facilities for that (unless you want him to- we love old trans people)

"Master Bruce I really must insist-" Alfred tried for the fourth time in seven minutes, Bruce had counted, reaching to push him back to bed and pull off the suit jacket he had only moments before helped Bruce put on.

"'M going Alf." Bruce grumbled back, rubbing a bleary hand over his eyes. "There's no use in putting it off. Don't have a good excuse and.." He grimaced. "They need to see me. It's been a while."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest again, even going so far as to move in front of the door to block his exit. "You are on far too many medications Mr. Wayne, not to mention a concussion! You simply cannot."

Bruce's lips twitched it amusement. It was a rare day when Alfred's composure was rattled to the point of calling him Mr. Wayne, and while Alfred was admittedly very strong, there was no way his physical blockation of Bruce's path would actually stop him.

"Alf." Bruce began gently, and the butler scoffed, rolling his eyes as he moved out of the way, striding down the long hallway. "Well. I see my advice isn't heeded. As always."

Bruce threw him an apologetic smile, heading for the main door. "Love ya Alfie!!" The butler snorted, but Bruce could tell he was softening.

"Call if you need boy." Alfred murmured. Bruce grinned, offering a wink as he pulled the door open. "I will." He promised, sliding into the backseat of his limousine, heading to the Gala.

He hissed as the needle broke his skin, biting his lip to prevent any further sounds as the anti-biotic worked its way into his system. Alfred would most definitely have protested its use, especially as Bruce tossed back a handful of other added painkillers, but if he was being honest, he needed them to get through the night.

"Thanks Hank. Tell your wife I said hi and grab her a bouquet on your way home. On me." He patted his driver's shoulder as he climbed out. Hank grinned, tipping his black cap.

"You always make me seem like such a good husband Mr. Wayne, I appreciate it. Have a good night." Bruce grinned back, stumbling slightly as he moved towards the doors, using the car to stabilize himself.

"You give me too much credit, send your boys some love and you have tomorrow off, try to actually use that baseball glove I gifted you." Hank chortled, setting the car into drive. "Will do sir. Good night." Bruce nodded the same back, watching until the car pulled away fully to stumble up the steps.

"Maybe those pills weren't such a good idea." He mumbled to himself as he made it to the doors, pulling them open to walk inside, heading straight for the table laid out with food. Of course, one couldn't enter a Gala without greeting the hosts, and he barely made it two steps before he was intercepted.

"Mrs. and Mr. Ketch. How lovely to see you." Bruce offered a bow, bending too low before rocking back upwards. Mrs. Ketch was smiling at him, a lovely, true smile that Bruce noticed tended to happen whenever he greeted the woman first instead of the man. Mr. Ketch was frowning, but more at Bruce's bizarre drunken act than any offense towards being placed after his wife.

"Are you alright, Wayne?" He asked, and Bruce hated that he actually liked the Ketch's, because there was genuine concern in the mans voice. Another reason why he had come.

The Ketch's were new money, self made, and trying to blend in with the old elites, though Bruce had to admit they never would, they were just too good, too kind, too sincere.

He wondered, dimly, in the back of his foggy, drug addled mind, if perhaps they'd finally tire of all the snide comments, rude looks, sneers, and give up on their well meaning charity that they had chosen Gotham for. He hoped they wouldn't. He liked having actual good conversation at these dull events.

"M fine, truly." Bruce answered, a few seconds too late, smiling lazily. "Might've had a few." He tried his best imitation at a drunken smile, wincing as he realized it was dangerously close to how he really felt.. tipsy. Off balance.

Robert, because that was his name, he had told Bruce his first name instead of demanding he call him Mr., frowned a little in concern, and before he knew it they had herded him to one of the seating places, settling down by him.

"How're the kids?" Mrs. Ketch asked, handing him a glass of water that Bruce gratefully accepted. "Amazing." He answered. "Splendid. They're always doing so well. They don't see it though." He frowned at his glass, wondering why that was.

"They're so amazing though. It just doesn't make any sense," He sat up, leaning forward to look at the couple in front of him intensely. They both had their eyebrows raised in surprise, but leaned forward in tandem, intruiged.

"Because see, they're so brilliant, and lovely, and smart, really I think they're the smartest people in the world- like ever. And Dickie, he's so kind and sweet and nice, and he's got a few problems and I'm sorry about it but he's really just amazing and an all around good person, I really oughtta try and be more like him, and oh he's got my eyes, im so glad he got my eyes, but i love his nose too, its nothing like mine- anyway Jason too- whoo he got my height im so happy for him- he also has my eyes! they all have my eyes actually, except cass, and damian, but like he's so brilliant and smart and he was such a good kid, he is now too- oh he doesn't like me calling him kid, but he'll always be my baby, and oh i cried so much when he died, but he better now, oh and Timmy, oh timmy is so smart. Soooo smart like genuis level, and he's wayy smarter than me, wayyyy smarter, and alfie says he has my hair, but i dont see it- i think he got my jaw though- and then Cass oh Cassandra My baby girl she's lovely and sweet and a charmer, beautiful girl, so is Barbara, but she won't let me say that to her, no no, but she is, she's so pretty and smart and quick, she scares me sometimes but I love her, such a good girl yknow? And Stephanie? Oh she and Tim need to make it official so shes mine. mine mine mine. I need another daughter you know? Too many boys. Equality of men and women at home. I need them home. And then Duke. hes so lovely too. Oh and Damian. Damian took some adjusting but they're all so lovely yknow? I remember the day they were born so vividly. I was so happy. I love them so much. It hurt, of course, but what is that to the joy they bring now yknow?"

Bruce took a sip of his drink, nodding thoughtfully as he leaned back. Mrs. and Mr. Ketch blinked a few times, opened their mouths, closed them again, and leaned back as well, exchanging glances.

"Yes. Well. Quite." Mr. Ketch cleared his throat. "Bruce, perhaps we should call you someone? To take you home?" Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement.

"Come on sweetheart, let's get you home. You need to go to bed and.. and sleep this off." Bruce nodded, letting them help him stand and guide him to the door as Mr. Ketch called someone.

"Yeah. I like bed. And sleep. Oh- but I can't. Uh-uh, I promised Dickie I'd call him." Bruce nodded, turning to head back inside as though that would help his quest.

Mrs. Ketch grabbed his arm and gently, but firmly, led him back outside. "Rob just called him sweetheart, he's on his way."

"Oh." Bruce nodded. "Oh. Thas good." Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement, rubbing his back soothingly. "I like that." Bruce hummed, letting his eyes close. "Its like what my mother used to do." Mrs. Ketch looked at him in surprise, hand stilling for a second before resuming.

"Really?" She asked gently. Bruce hummed in confirmation. "Oh yes. Yeah she did. You do it well. You'd make a good mom. Just like me. Well, I don't make a good mom." At that he frowned at the ground, biting his lip. "But I try."

Mrs. Ketch smiled, turning them as a car pulled up. "Yes. You do. And you do it marvelously Bruce, truly. That's all we can ever do. Try." Bruce nodded his agreement as the door opened and his eldest emerged, rushing to his side.

"Bruce!" Dick looked genuinely worried, grabbing his shoulder. "You alright?" His son's eyes were searching, scanning his body.

"Oh hes fine." Mrs. Ketch waved with a smile. "Just a few drinks. I think it'd be best he go home though, sleep it off." Dick nodded his agreement, smiling at her. "Yes. I think thats best. Thank you." She shrugged, waving it off.

"Of course. It's what he would have done for me." Dick lowered Bruce into the passenger seat, heading for the drivers. "Bruce." Ketch tapped the window, leaning down. "Hm?" Bruce tilted his head, rolling it down.

"I'm pregnant." Bruce waited, jaw dropping slowly as the words connected in his brain. "You are?" She nodded, a small smile crossing her face.

"Yes. You're the first person I've told." She glanced nervously over her shoulder, to where her husband was waiting on the steps. Bruce reached for her hand, clasping it in his own.

"You'll make an excellent mother. And he will make an amazing father." He promised. She smiled, biting her lip anxiously. "You think?" Bruce nodded. "I know." At that her smile softened, and she patted his cheek.

"Thank you. And, for what it's worth Bruce," She glanced past him to Dick, who was kindly pretending not to listen. "I think you make an excellent mother."

#ahhhhh here #i tried #i hope you like #gods my ocs are always like motherly ladies #and i guess drivers??#idk #hope it fulfilled your visions #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #good dad bruce wayne #good mom bruce wayne more like #dick grayson #batkids

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rainforestakiie · 1 day ago

Text

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Devil's Night~

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

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

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

hope you all enjoy it!

part 01 - part 02

@adamsappleweek

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

Control. That was the key difference.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did Adam have a vagina in his dimension?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-Wha-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t wait to see her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean your suits?” he asked curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tonight,” he agreed quietly.

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

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

“Are you ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlie turned back to him with a radiant grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“R-Really?” she asked hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vaggie stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Radio Demon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucifer blinked, holding up his claws defensively.

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

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

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

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

"Please, someone stop this," she pleaded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When?” Vaggie prompted gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it bad?” she asked softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Another person?” Lucifer’s heart skipped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember, you asked for it~”

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

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

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

The silence was absolute.

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

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

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

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

“I want my life back.”

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

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

Lucifer’s breath caught. "You…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucifer closed his eyes – it was painful to hear.

He agreed.

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