#yes her snakes are souls

[some-bunniii]

— self indulgence time, say howdy to my hellaverse oc! [+ a fic]

Kokabiel, one of Hell’s original celebrities and fashion icons [art by mamma_hisa]

I have a 6k word fic that’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile, and i worked long enough on it so i think it deserves some sunlight

i wrote the first chapter to a lucifer x oc story in an AU where Lilith leaves when Charlie is a baby and Kokabiel accidentally becomes her maternal figure, and it was going to be long but then I never touched it again ☠️ she was made originally made for the fic but she’s so gorgeous and mommy i spent days fleshing her out as my main bbyg.

working on a few things so take this for now to get a taste of her and some morningstar love! no romance, just introductions.

“Charlie, please go to sleep” The pearlescent figure next to the small bed begged the toddler, who was trying to scramble out of his grip and away from the covers that were wrapped around her waist.

The man’s platinum-blonde hair was disheveled, dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep that was quite evident on his features as he tiredly pulled the girl back onto the bed, holding her still as she whined against his hands. 

His mouth opened in a wide yawn, his shark-like teeth glinting in the soft light that emanated from the bedside lamp next to him. He blinked slowly, trying to rid himself of the exhaustion that was trying to overtake him, his eyelids beginning to droop even as he continued to wrestle his daughter. 

Charlie shot her father a nasty glare, brows furrowed as she frowned deeply. The bright red spots that graced the chub of her cheeks lowered as her lips curled downward. They were one of the many features she shared with the pale man before her, including those soft, sun-kissed locks and snow-bathed skin. 

She also shared the same tired eyes that met hers sternly, but her mind was too active to allow her body those much-needed hours of rest. 

The rest her father, Lucifer Morningstar, also needed.

“I know you’re sleepy, sweetheart! Just lay still so daddy can get some shut-eye too, hm?”

“No!” Charlie whined, lips puckered in distraught as her strength began to wane. Why would she sleep when she could be playing with her stuffed goats instead?! It just wasn’t fair!

“Yes!” Lucifer commanded, before he growled softly and lifted a finger towards the small child, a glint of golden light lit on the tip of his claw as he pressed it softly against Charlie’s forehead. 

For a moment it flickered against her pale skin, and Lucifer removed his finger as Charlie froze at the sudden tingling sensation.

Her mouth was in the shape of a small o as she tried to get a look at whatever her father had placed on her, but the only clue in her vision was the twinkle of aurum light. A warmth began to seep into her skin, emanating from the magic blooming across her face.

Like a firework launching into the night sky, the tiny orb shot from her forehead up towards the ceiling, before it burst into a flurry of sparks that glimmered in the darkness, casting the walls with their vibrant hues.

The golden light danced above Charlie’s head, her eyes wide and in awe as the golden sparks began to melt into rippling waves that spiraled across the ceiling.

Lucifer flicked off the bedside light, the room darkening slightly as the magic above basked the room in a subtle warm glow as it pulsed rhythmically.

He still sat beside the bed, hand resting limply against Charlie’s chest as the interest in her eyes soon turned to sleepiness, and her eyelids began to droop.

Lucifer watched with a small smile as a magical display began to lull Charlie into sleep, and it only took a few more minutes before her face relaxed into a peaceful expression and her breathing swallowed.

Roughling rubbing a hand down his face with a sigh, Lucifer stood from the floor. His fuzzy pink robe drooped from his shoulders just enough to expose his bare, finely chiseled chest.

Quietly, he tip-toed across the bedroom, stepping over dolls, stuffed animals, and other trinkets that littered the floor. As long as he was careful, he wouldn’t risk waking the child.

Lucifer’s fingers wrapped around the door handle, before he waved his hand in the air, and the golden light dispersed, showering the room in shadows once more.

Cracking open the door just a tad, he slipped into the hallway. Lucifer’s back hit the door’s solid, oak frame as he exhaled a sigh of relief. The fallen angel felt like he could slide down onto the plush red carpet and hibernate right there, but he was the King of Hell, he had too much self-respect for that.

Raking a hand through his disheveled hair, Lucifer began to drag his feet down the hall, fatigue gnawing at his mind as he passed by the large paintings that hung upon the dark red walls, a perfect backdrop to the fair-skinned figures that posed elegantly inside the gold-framed portraits.

A man, his apple-red cheeks practically brushing against the edges of his face as he smiled brightly. A woman stood tall beside him, a dark purple dress hugging her curved figure as she posed regally. Her fingers entwined with her counterpart, their intimacy evident.

Lucifer would take that down, eventually. It only ever reminded him of painful memories, of that violet, sultry gaze through which she would send him as they basked in the warmth of the large fireplace in the large lounge in their castle. 

Wine glasses emptied again and again as the King listened to her gentle humming, her fingers laced with his as she pulled him closer. Her lips left wet, sloppy kisses against his chin. The faint trail of black lipstick as her mouth connected with his in a passionate embrace of body and soul, intertwined.

Lilith, the previous Queen of Hell. Lucifer’s ex-wife, Charlie’s mother.

How long had she been gone now? Lucifer knew the exact day, he practically memorized the minute and hour when she left. When Lilith had sent him one last look from the open front door, her gaze unreadable through the black shades on her face, her honey-colored hair flowing like water around her figure as the two lovers locked eyes for the final time.

“Goodbye, Lou,” Lilith had whispered, her voice like silk against his ears even in such an anguished moment. Strands of hair covered her features as she spoke, shielding her expression as she turned her head, her back facing the fallen angel as she stepped through the threshold. 

Out of his home, out of his world. 

And, Charlie’s too. It’s hard explaining to a child that their mommy went on a very, very long vacation. He’d have the courage to tell her… eventually. Except, that meant she might one day blame him, too.

What could Lilith have been feeling, happiness, sorrow, anger? Lucifer would never know, he had tried so desperately to even understand why she had left in the first place. Had there been signs? An argument of some kind he had forgotten? What had he done wrong, that his first love and the mother of his child, would leave him to care for Charlie and the realm, all alone?

It was Lilith who held most of the influence when it came to the lower-classed demons, her words and songs enlightening the residents of Hell, cultivating the realm like a garden as she watered the needy and uprooted those with dark intentions like invasive weeds.

To the people of Hell, Lucifer was the epitome of complete, ultimate power. The embodiment of pride, and the reminder of who would always have control. 

He was rarely seen in public, especially in his own Ring, full of the very demons he despised the most. Sure, he had his covers on magazines and face plastered all over LuLu World, but that was where it ended.

Instead, the King kept his duties strictly to those most loyal and most powerful. The rest of the Deadly Sins, the Ars Goetia family, and once in a while joining on an overlord meeting. 

As long as they understood who not to cross, the safety and security of his family would never be at risk, if one could even try and pose any threat to one of the first creations. The Morningstar that shone before Lilith, before Earth, before everything.

In all honesty, Lucifer didn’t really do… anything, when it came to his subjects. 

It was Lilith whose appearance was imprinted into the minds of her subjects through her many concerts and powerful political influence. It was she who had given them the confidence to defy Heaven, to stand against their exterminations that plagued the Pride Ring once a year.

Now, Lucifer was left to hold up face, to keep the realm from divulging into chaos, as the stability of the hierarchy of Hell slipped slowly and slowly through his fingers. No matter how many demons he could smite with the snap of his fingers, the sinful on Earth would always be sent to him as punishment, for the both of them. 

He needed to keep them all in line, as respectfully as possible.

Which meant Lucifer was alone to take care of Charlie, who was insanely active and needy for attention, like any demon her age. She couldn’t stay out of trouble, and Lucifer had to juggle her, his own volatile emotions that had been causing him to skip more and more meals, and the piling events that always filled his days this time of the year. 

The annual gatherings with the Ars Goetia that he had to attend symbiotically to keep their unwavering loyalty, the meetings to make sure the rest of the Sins were keeping their rings afloat, and flaunting a little bit of his power to the Overlords in Pentagram City that liked to stir trouble in his own ring.

Hell needed a future so that his daughter would have something to rule over when she came of age and wisdom. No matter how he tried to push the thoughts of his little girl growing up and leaving him, sooner or later, the fledgling would have to leave the nest.

Lucifer could see it, clear as day, his spirit and creative spark deep in her gaze when she listened to his many ideas and visions of what could have been and what surely will be. The way she giggled quietly as he presented her toys of his creation, her soft gaze looking at each little trinket with adoration and inspiration.

If she was anything like the man Lucifer used to be, that meant she would no doubt rebel against his views of Hell and his subjects, and that scared the King. 

Lucifer continued to pass more portraits, dimly lit by the warm glow of the wall lamps dotting the hallway. Pictures of his daughter, the other Sins, and the grand opening of LuLu World. The final portrait next to his bedroom door was a small painting, an almost-perfect recreation of the only Heavenly creation he still held close to his heart. 

The Morning Star.

The large ball of bright, white light illuminated against the oily-black backdrop that was also speckled with smaller, glittering stars. Some shone in vibrant, multi-colored hues that lit the painted night sky with a soft celestial light.

Except, none of those stars shone as bright as his star, the star specifically created for him by a face whose familiarity had been long lost in time. A face that still gnawed at the edge of his mind every time he stared at that painting, those long-buried memories slowly crawling from the depths of his soul.

Maybe, one day, he’d have the strength to remember.

When the door to his room was pushed open softly, Lucifer’s eyes hit the digital clock on his nightstand. It was one in the afternoon, and Charlie would only nap for a few hours before she awakened with renewed energy. 

The toddler has grown restless lately, anxious to see a new face, to take a peek outside of the confines of their large home. No matter how many magical displays Lucifer presented the child, she always grew bored, and that frown was becoming more permanent on her lips as the days passed.

It must be tiring waking up and practically seeing your reflection almost every minute of your day.

There was no one Lucifer could trust in the presence of his daughter, though. No one he could see fit enough to care for her, not even himself. He struggled, being a father, for his little apple pie.

Parenting was not easy, especially when you had no idea what you were doing. It was especially hard when you were too afraid to upset your daughter with stern words and an authoritative voice, which meant the toddler ran the house.

The most powerful being in Hell would have to put his foot down to his little girl… eventually. After this quick nap, maybe. 

The large bed, much too big for only one person, beckoned Lucifer with an irresistible invitation. His legs moved with renewed strength before he fell face flat into the soft, cool duvet that welcomed him kindly. His muscles relaxed instantly, his feet dangling limply from the end of the bed as he finally opened his mind to the idea of sleep.

Slowly, Lucifer’s consciousness began to ebb, and his snores echoed around the room as his mind stilled into blackness.

What he wasn’t aware of, as the fallen angel sunk deeper into the plush, red blankets, was that the small bed on the opposite side of the hall was empty. Its previous inhabitant was currently tottling towards the door to his workshop that had been slightly ajar just across from her bedroom.

With wide eyes, Charlie scanned the room as she poked her head through the crack in the doorway, her little button nose twitching as she drank in all the little knick-knacks and prototypes of fantastical ideas that would never see the light of day.

It was dimly lit, save for the faint red glow pouring in from the large circular window above the desk across the room. There was nothing of interest on its smooth, wooden surface to the tiny awe-struck eyes. Instead, it was the soft, chromatic light that caught her gaze on a low shelf right next door. 

Floating elegantly above a short, circular pedestal were seven glowing rings, stacked above each other a few inches apart with zero gravity. Each held a unique hue, from green to pink, as they lured Charlie with their ethereal glow. If she could lift her little body just slightly onto the chair against the desk, she could reach them. 

What could they be, so pretty just floating like that? They looked just like glow-stick necklaces! Would Daddy think she was pretty if she put them on and showed him?

With a large smile and slightly unsteady steps, Charlie crossed the room, her tiny feet pitter-pattering against the soft carpet as she beelined for the colorful display. When she reached the wooden chair, her chin barely grazed against the cushioned seating as she placed her palms gingerly against its plush surface.

With a mighty heave and a sharp inhale of breath, the toddler began kicking her legs wildly as she tried gaining momentum to hoist herself onto the chair. 

Charlie sputtered for breath as her grip loosened due to her sweaty palms, but then her leg hooked onto the seat railing, which gave her momentarily support to pull herself farther up until her knee grazed the top of the cushion. 

Placing one arm underneath her for support, the toddler reached the other out towards the ring. Her fingers splayed out, the whites of her eyes glowing red as they reflected the ring’s vibrant hue. 

Charlie held her breath, beginning to tip over just as her index finger grazed the very edge of the ring’s surface. Red energy shot down her spine, sending her hair to stick out with static 

The girl barely got a squeak in before she vanished in a burst of lightning that barely resonated a sound as it zapped her away. 

The red ring flickered once, faltering above the rest for only a moment, before it stilled into place.

And the room was empty once more.

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀🤍🤍🤍

On the outskirts of the Pride Ring was a small, white villa nestled against a rocky cliff face, surrounded by tall, black fencing that ended in sharp, spiked ends. Purple magic sizzled off of the tips, a clear warning to anyone who wanted to enter: They would not be welcome.

Inside the powerful barrier, was a large garden filled with a surreal combination of beauty and decay. Vibrant flowers bloomed amidst twisted, blackened trees that seemed to reach out with gnarled branches like skeletal fingers. 

The floral scent that wafted from the blossoms permeated the air, mixed with the slight tinge of sulfur of Hell’s odor.  

Nestled among the dark purple bushes and other hellish flora, were tall snow-white sculptures of men and women, their stone eyes staring lifelessly across the garden’s expanse. 

A diverse cast of figures, short and brawny, too tall and lanky. Each unique from the rest.

Except, for their facial expressions, in which they each held a similar look of terror. As if they had been frozen in place during a time of anguish, of a terrifying encounter that left them to rot inside their pretty stone casks. 

They were positioned across the lawn in a perfect, meticulous manner. As if someone spent day in and day out holed up inside the black fencing, with nothing to do but continuously cultivate their blooming garden. 

One particular statue, which held the image of a goat-like man, staring up at the sky as if in one final prayer, was currently being inspected by a gracefully poised woman standing before it. Painted on his frozen cheek, was a small black lipstick-stained kiss.

From a distance, you’d think she was human. The silky, black dress that hugged her curves was reminiscent of ancient Greek fashion. Her shoulders were fully exposed, garment held up by a high neckline that tickled at her throat as she leisured, a glass of alcohol in her hand.

Her rich, deep brown skin stood out among the pearlescent, marble statues. Practically shimmering against the red hues that basked her home with the midday light. 

An ethereal radiance seemed to seep from her skin, giving her silhouette a faint, golden glow that made her skin shimmer like light on morning dew.

Her hairstyle was similar to a ponytail, a partial updo that sat at the top of her head like a bun, before the long, white locs cascaded down her back.Along with two large strands that framed the sides of her angled face.

The big differential between her and a woman strolling down the street? The horns that graced the top of her head. They curved to end just above her forehead, a black crown that cemented her place as another resident of Hell.

Travel a bit farther down her figure, and you’d find those large, white tendrils of hair that swished as she turned slightly had a funny texture to them that most would mistake for thick braids. 

Except, braids aren’t made of scales, are they? 

At her ankles, a multitude of snakeheads stuck out their tongues, tasting the air as their beady red eyes scanned across the grassy scape. 

They twisted around each other, curling into themselves to keep a tighter form as they wriggled against the woman’s back, interest peaked at their surroundings as their tongues flicked in and out.

Once in a while, a head would spot some small, hellish critter skittering across the yard looking for food. And, before one could blink, its jaws would open wide as it shot forward, pulling slightly at the woman’s scalp as it clamped its maw around the tiny creature.

It would slink back near her ankles, trying to gulp down the tasty delicacy as the other snakes around it poked and prodded for a taste. They hissed and snapped at one another, fighting for a morsel.

The woman turned her head, shooting the reptilian mass a glare as they wrapped around her legs. Milky white pools met multiple red, glowing eyes as they slunk back slightly at her scolding, giving time for the one snake to finish gobbling up his snack without fuss.

The two smaller serpents that framed her face weren’t as long as the rest of their siblings, instead reaching to her breasts as they lazily rested on the fabric of her dress. 

Tenderly, the woman lifted an arm, and her shorter serpent curled delicately around her hand, until its head rested gingerly on her palm. 

Gently, she brushed a thumb along its snout, and it hissed softly with pleasure, its eyes closing shut as it nestled farther into her warm skin.

“Jameson, another margarita, please.”

“Yes, Lady Kokabiel,” a small imp butler bowed, his cropped, curly white hair bouncing slightly as he lowered his head. 

Turning, the imp trotted towards a shaded area underneath a weeping willow tree, its low-hanging branches that grazed against his shoulders were dark red, shielding the large mixture of alcohol from the heat of the day as he poured another glass of the blue liquid.

When Jameson returned, Kokabiel handed him the empty glass before plucking the margarita from his grasp. She sent him an appreciative smile, her white freckles sparkling like starlight as they curved with her lips.

She swirled the alcohol in the glass, watching the small vortex for a few moments, before lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. 

That’s how Kokabiel spent most of her days in Hell, nowadays. Getting a buzz off of fruity liquor and fawning over her snakes, as she lounged in her garden with no one to bother her. 

It had been a long time since she left the spotlight, previously a fashion and sex icon, Kokabiel had flaunted her good looks and curves to promote all kinds of products and events, dominating the biggest runways. She even starred in a couple of A-list movies, growing her until she reached the peak of stardom.

Kokabiel had earned her place at the top of the pyramid, right next to many older, successful celebrities in the industry. Lilith was a big name, even bigger than Koko’s with how beautiful of a singer she was, pulling in fans like a siren with her honeyed voice. 

Even with such cutthroat competition, Kokabiel never felt that she was fading out of the audience’s vision with how fast her mailbox would fill with writings from her fans

Fanart, declarations of love written in sparkly pink ink, and invitations to large parties and prestigious events. Even now, she still received fan mail here or there, although they were usually left unanswered. 

She had never wanted to retire in the first place, her plans for the future only confining to grow bigger by the day. Until one night, during a party hosted by the overlords of the city, was Kokabiel confronted with an ultimatum. 

“I know your secret,” he had smiled devilishly. That flat-faced, know-it-all smirk the man sent her one evening, as he confronted her in the darkness of a hallway. 

“What secret?” Kokabiel laughed dryly, shooting him a question glare. 

“Oh, you know,” his pixelated eyes lifted to the darkened sky through the ceiling-high windows nearby, Heaven’s white glow cascading through the panes, “The one about where you really came from, not the Lust Ring lie you like to spin to the audience.” 

The alcoholic buzz in Kokabiel’s system faded in an instant, and her snakes coiled against her back, hissing loudly as she shot him a deathly glare. It had seemed he had chosen to give the news from a safe distance, too far for her snakes to reach. A smart man. 

How did he find out, and what did he plan to do with that information?

That smile of his had only widened further, giddy at the fact he had her in his grasp. He could pull the strings, keep her away from his industry. This secret, that he had only stumbled upon accidently, was going to make sure she stayed gone.

Kokabiel had never caused trouble, never flaunted her power to rise up Hell’s hierarchy, never made any public displays of how easily she could rip demon’s souls out of their bodies if they got too close. 

Nor did any demon claim to be owned by her, as they were too busy being decorative pieces to tell their tale. 

Kokabiel’s presence was a mystery to her powerful counterparts. Her aura was too clean, too ethereal to be a sinner or an average hellborn. But, she had never actually said the words ‘Yes, I’m from Heaven.’ 

She didn’t need to, anymore. After that little conversation, the talking TV had made a deal. Keep that pretty face away from the cameras, and his lips were sealed for eternity. 

Kokabiel had announced her retirement a day later, not answering a single question about why or where she was going. Those cameras and microphones that had gotten shoved in her face received no words as received hurried into her limo. 

How could Kokabiel, someone whose face was once plastered onto entire sides of buildings, fall so hard because of some up-and-coming overlord with the intent to control the masses? She’d had bigger spats with the paparazzi on the side of the street than this!

Now, she didn’t have to worry about those annoying flies anymore, with their constant flashes that always anguished her snakes and the peppering of questions.

Finally away from any prying eyes and those awful, bright flashes that plagued every step Kokabiel took out in public. Here, she could do and say anything, without someone waiting to jump at the opportunity to sell a shitty, non-contextual picture to the highest tabloid bidder.

Solitude gets boring, though. Even with her snakes to crawl over and her garden to tend, one could only vent to the marble figures for so long before they felt their sanity slipping.

That was until an imp had squeezed his way through the thick pickets of her fence, those short white curls singed at the tips from the magic that stung him. 

Whatever was chasing the small man was more dangerous as he continued to beeline toward the bushes that could shelter him.

The imp had turned his head, catching the sight of his pursuers as they reached the fence. Three burly, tall shark demons roared as his tiny frame sped off.

That only led him to meet horns first into the stomach of the owner of the fence, and the land he was currently trespassing on. With an oomph he landed on hit, gaze darting at the being standing above him.

Kokabiel had quirked a brow, unamused as she wiped the dirt from the front of her dress. It wasn’t until one shark demon rammed into the fence, did she lifted her head and a dark frown played on her lips. 

He had seen it, the power behind her gaze, when the loan sharks blew up one of her favorite rose bushes as they broke through the gates.

“How dare you,” she had hissed, her white gaze boring into the thugs, glowing with a much fiercer intensity as she bared her teeth, “Get out!” 

The imp had flinched, but Kokabiel’s anger was not directed at him as she stepped right above his quivering body, and he could feel the soft grazing of scales against his raised arms before he turned to watch the woman continue to meet the loan sharks halfway.

“Not without our little friend there,” one sneered, his teeth glinting as he gave the woman a silent warning of his strength.

“Unfortunate that you aren’t the one making the demands,” she retorted, putting herself between the sharks and their prey. 

With a loud, collective hiss, the bodies of her snakes lifted, encircling her head, and they opened their maws with extended fangs, displaying their own grim warning with bright red eyes.

The aggressor didn’t like that so much, as he opened he pulled out a large, glowing steel-laced ax and charged right for the duo. The imp squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the killing blow. 

The Kokabiel’s pupils shifted from that starlit glint into black pools of emptiness, and the air sizzled with a powerful energy right as the shark-faced man swung his weapon to connect with her shoulder. At the last moment, the fallen angel ducked and backpedaled, right as one of her snakes lashed forward, jaw wide to reveal twin, deadly fangs and struck the demon right in the eye. 

The scales of her snakes pulsed with a golden shimmer, and the demon’s mouth opened in a painful scream as his feet took on an ivory color, hardening to stone. 

The other sharks near him tensed, the rage on their faces instantly draining as their comrade's feet cemented to the ground, that stone plague creeping farther up his waist as he writhed in place, clutching his eye as black blood seeped from the large gash. 

They took a step back, then another, and another as the only blubber left on the struggling man was his large head. His teeth gnashed in mixture of anger and pain, but his good eye only showed fear, right as it was glazed over by white stone.

After that, the rest of the loan sharks had fled, huffing and puffing as they tumbled through the broken fence. 

Then, the snake that had bit the demon began to convulse, writhing with an open maw like it had something stuck in its throat as black blood from its victim landed on the grass below.

Like some hellish form of mitosis, the scales of the serpent began to stretch and split, revealing a mirrored version of the reptile that began to take form and separate from its twin. 

With wide eyes, the imp watched the two snakes finally , this new, fresh face shaking its head in confusion, before the rest of the scaly follicles began to surround and inspect their new friend with flicking tongues.

Kokabiel only watched the demons scurry off, before she sighed and adjusted her dress. Pivoting, she turned to face the imp, her arms crossed as she regarded him curiously. 

The scrawny demon gulped as he stared wide-eyed. Was he next?

“What’s your name?”

“W-what?” The imp replied hoarsely.

“Your name. You have one, don’t you?”

“it’s… Jameson, madam,” 

“Thank you, and I assume they’ll kill you if you try and go back into the city?”

Jameson nodded slowly, rising tentatively from the ground to look up at the woman. 

“Well, it seems you are out of options, Jameson,” Kokabeil had quirked a brow, a small smile on her lips, “but, it appears I’m in need of a butler. What do you say to free room and board in exchange for your services? I’ll let you keep your soul, I promise.” 

He had looked at her, suspicion in his gaze as his eyes darted to the snakes that coiled around her, shooting him hungry glares. How could someone with power like that be so… nice? If it were any overlord back in the city, they’d have taken his soul and his free will.

But, the offer didn’t sound too bad, and she didn’t look crazy. Just… lonely. Maybe, staying here would be so bad.

That’s how Jameson had begun working for the retired celebrity he now called master. Weirdly, he didn’t do many things a butler would do.

Sure, he cleaned and was at her beck and call most of the time, but Kokabiel did most of the things on her own. She cooked, tended to her garden which was slowly growing by the day, and kept up on the juicy rumors that circled the city. 

Usually, Jameson spent the day as entertainment for her. As an ex-clown in the circus, Jameson had a few tricks up his sleeve he’d showcase for the fallen angel, and she seemed to eat it up with amusement.

Kokabiel’s thoughts towards him? He wasn’t exactly sure. Obviously, she was much kinder to him than anyone else he’d worked for, but her zipped lips on anything related to her past or what kind of demon she was made him unsure.

There were times she got… sad. That was the best way to put it. Jameson never saw her cry or have a tantrum, but sometimes she’d get so sullen even her snakes seemed rather depressed.

And, once a year there was a day that Kokabiel would lock herself away in her room, and would not call for him at all the entire day. Not even for food to feed her snakes. What could make her so depressed for that one day? A lost loved one? Her death day, perhaps? 

She rarely mentioned her influential era as one of the largest fashion icons and models Hell had seen, although she didn’t need to with her collection of the seductive, sultry gazes she on the many ripped out pages of magazine covers she had framed on her walls. 

The few times he did go into the city, heavily disguised to run errands for Kokabiel, he’d pick up the newest tabloids or fill her ears with the latest gossip circling the entertainment industry.

“That’s what that old fart is up to now?” She had chuckled about an old acquaintance as she moisturized her snakes with a scale-safe lotion, “He used to be an A-list actor, and now he’s selling retinol cream? Ha!” 

The snakes had hissed with a chuckle-like sound, mirroring their mother as she coddled them. They still made Jameson nervous, even after all these years, they had a mind of their own, each individual one it appeared. But, they all seemed to have the same thoughts when it came to him: hungry.

Watching the snake finish its snack made Jameson a little uneasy as Kokabiel turned away from the statue and she took another sip of her drink.

“I’m getting tired, Jameson. I think I'm going to go inside, maybe take a nice, warm bath to relax.” 

“Would you like me to get the water heated?”

“No, thanks. I can do it myself.” She said, beginning to walk towards the patio doors. 

Jameson’s eyes flicked past her shoulder, at the very moment the statue began to sizzle with a powerful energy that even made his curls stand on end. 

Red sparks erupted from the front of the statue, right on the pedestal it was standing on which raised a few feet in the air. Jameson could only stare in disbelief as the sparks began to swirl like a vortex, until they burst and sprayed like confetti and a figure materialized an inch off the marble surface.

The tiny stranger landed with a quiet oomf, before she stood on her feet with a slight wobble, her little hands held out in front of her for balance. 

Jameson’s eyes flew open at the sight. It was a child! Her platinum-blonde hair disheveled, and her large eyes were darting around the area with confusion and fear. 

When her eyes landed on him, she took a tiny step back, her eyes growing wide as she stared nervously at the new face. 

“M-m-madam!” Jameson finally croaked, his finger pointed towards the girl with a slight quiver as he tried to get the words out. 

“What..?” Kokabiel quirked an eyebrow at his stammering figure. Jameson’s eyes never left the strange girl, and she slowly followed his gaze to the statue.

The toddler and the fallen angel locked eyes, before Kokabiel’s mouth fell open and she stood there silently for a few moments. Charlie’s eyes widened, and she pulled her arms to herself in comfort at the shocked faces.

“What…. is this?” Kokabiel finally spoke slowly, eyes trained on the little being standing awkwardly on the statue. Her snakes lifted their heads slightly, tongues flicking the air as they tried to get a scent of the girl.

“It’s a child, madam,” Jameson whispered.

“I know that! But, how did it get here? What’s the point of having a magical fence if everybody can just walk right through it?!”

“She didn’t get through the fence, madam!” Jameson squeaked, shaking his head furiously as he explained, “She just… appeared here, like out of thin air! I saw it all!”

How could that be possible? There’s no way a child could harness such strong magic. It must be some kind of illusion, trickery by a powerful demon trying to use her empathy to get the best of her!

“You!” Kokabiel pointed an accusatory finger at Charlie, taking a small step forward “How did you get in my garden?”

“Um…” Charlie started, but her words—of what little she had—died in her throat. She only took a step backward, trying to escape from the attention 

“You’re trespassing on private property!” Kokabiel continued to stalk forward, she was only a few feet away now, her snakes becoming antsy as they curled around her, hissing softly.

“Oh…”

“Who are you?” 

Charlie took another step back, her hair grazing the leg of the marble figure. Where was she? 

“…Char—eep!”

Charlie’s heel hit the foot of the statue, and she tripped, her back hitting its leg as she slid awkwardly sideways. Her tiny fingers grasped desperately at the smooth, white stone, but to no avail, as she tumbled right off the edge of the pedestal.

Jameson squeaked in terror, before throwing his hands over his eyes to protect him from any grisly sight. He heard Kokabiel gasp, but no sickening thump or terrible crack of bones meeting the firm ground.

Slowly, he splayed his fingers and lowered his hands, his eyes widening. He stood there gobsmacked at the scene, mouth agape in silence. 

Yes, Charlie had been unable to save herself, falling helplessly in the air…. right into the arms of a shocked Kokabiel. 

Kokabiel stared wide-eyed at her own reaction to the split second of instinct that propelled her to catch the child. Charlie was tightly secured in her hands, being held at arm's-length as far as possible. 

Charlie blinked, before her eyes met those glowing white pupils with a slowly growing smile. She had one hand wrapped around the wrist of the taller woman, as she lifted up her free hand and sent a small, shy wave.

“Hi!”

[art i commissioned for the chapter by ruspettaa]

woahhh nice little(ha!) introduction to my oc, with some cute art of charlie! If I were to ever continue writing this fic, the relationship would be more focused on charlies than lucifers, at least at first. Slow-burn/co-parenting kinda thing bc Koko can def exist without being a relationship with our handsome king. she’s sipping margaritas free as a bird rn.

kokabiel is a loosely based version of the biblical figure with the same name who created the stars and constellations. One of the reasons she fell was for teaching humanity astronomy. A few others fell with her too, but she instead melded into demon society instead of her heavenly counterparts.

the only people that know of her true identity are Hell’s royalty, and Stolas probably has a signed autograph of hers somewhere around his office seeing as his duties are closely bound with her creations.

she’s a business woman too, though i am trying to figure out whether she sells snake-skinned accessories as a fashion line or diluted venom that’s a psychedelic drug which makes you feel all euphoric and stuff. l

I also have no idea who her voice claim is 😭 i imagine it being smooth and buttery like Beyoncé, but i’m sure there’s other voices similar to hers that I haven’t found yet.

i’ve got a comm [by wkyarts51243] in the works that will be styled closer to the show, so here’s a sneak peak i guess ☠️ I’d say her height is slightly shorter than charlie (not counting her horns lol), but I haven’t settled yet.

i have more art (one of her and luci hehe), which i might share either. but you can have the full version of the first art pic, with an extra piece from the same artist 🤭

also making this post so i can cement her backstory and stop changing it up ☠️ it’s its writing officially now yall

anyway, enough rambling, back to writing!! have a great weekend 🤍

[out-of-heaven-and-hell]

🚢 Striker and Stella (hi hello giggs the shipping salesman here to go wild on ya with a new idea)

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: ( put whatever you want here )

[primofate]

"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left

Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts

Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  

Aether

gets flustered

"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."

he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?

Starts to second guess if he really gave you that

Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment

Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark

"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"

Albedo

stares at it for the longest time.

There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.

Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever

"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"

Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it

Brews about a 100 of 'em

Alhaitham

Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye

"I'd advise you to hide it,"

he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out

but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you

"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."

He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.

"...I best be going now."

He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.

Ayato

chuckles to himself

"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"

but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.

Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"

You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.

Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"

Cyno

is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.

Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.

Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind

Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...

Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.

"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."

You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding

Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.

Dainsleif

Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.

Points it out immediately

"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.

"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...

"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"

Diluc

is surprised, then apologetic

He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night

Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.

"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"

Is seriously considering repenting about it

Itto

"Whoa--"

Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers

"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully

No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say

"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"

You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment

Kaeya

smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.

"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"

winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.

"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"

is only half joking

Lyney

mischievous laugh

is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic

"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling

"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"

Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"

always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.

Neuvillette

clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water

"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.

"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.

"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"

points it out by gently thumbing at it

Scaramouche

shit-eating grin at the sight of it

Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.

"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now

but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"

Tartaglia

laughs but is slightly apologetic

"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.

"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"

I think you know what or where he's thinking about

Tighnari

Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.

"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"

He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously

He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"

He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.

"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.

Wriothesley

laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards

Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically

"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms

Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"

Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.

"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"

Xiao

Freezes while looking at it

For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.

"...Y/N..."

seriously does not know what to say

stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"

You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.

Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"

Zhongli

chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.

"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"

he again chuckles as he explains.

"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"

brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it

End

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.

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buymeacoffee

Here’s the Masterlist

[kashverse]

it is a rite of passage for every child to have a pet, and when it is finally babykuna’s turn, sukuna—being the extra man that he is—does not just take her to a normal pet shop. no, no, no. he takes her to an exotic pet shop. because why settle for a goldfish when she could have a tarantula named missy? or maybe a snake called george? wouldn’t a scorpion be so much cooler? apparently not. because out of all the fascinating, unique, and terrifying creatures in the shop, babykuna walks past them all—ignores the lizards, dismisses the sugar gliders, doesn’t even look at the parrot that screeches a greeting at her—

and stops dead in front of a massive maine coon that is currently squished into a cage far too small for its body. the cat—fluffy, fat, and looking seconds away from sighing like a disappointed victorian orphan—locks eyes with babykuna. babykuna gasps, pressing her tiny hands against the cage. "mama! papa! it’s him!"

sukuna furrows his brows. "what?"

"him! my pet! my baby! my everything!"

you squint at the cat. it looks back at you like it’s seen some shit. "baby, are you sure?" you ask gently, glancing at the other animals. "there are so many cool options, what about—"

"NO!"

babykuna throws herself onto the ground, wailing like she’s in a period drama. sukuna jumps in alarm. "oi, oi, what the fuck, don’t start—"

before he can finish, the cat in the cage suddenly lets out a long, tragic, soul-crushing howl—as if mourning a life it never got to live.

the entire store falls silent.

"…what the fuck was that," sukuna hisses, visibly unsettled. babykuna gasps again, sitting up. "mr pickles! papa said a bad word!"

"mr…pickles?" sukuna repeats, looking at the cat like it personally offended him. "why is its name mr pickles?"

"because he is my son," babykuna says matter-of-factly, wiping away her fake tears. “and my heart knows his true name.” you press your lips together to keep from laughing. "mr pickles is a cute name, love."

"no, it’s not," sukuna grumbles, rubbing his temples. "baby, listen, papa will get you anything else, okay? you want a wolfdog? a komodo dragon? a fucking capybara?"

babykuna sobs.

"I WANT MR PICKLESSSSSSSSSS—!"

mr pickles, from inside his cage, lets out a sorrowful “AAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOHHH—”

and that is how the fourth member of the family—a fat, depressed maine coon named mr pickles—came to be. turns out, despite his tragic victorian orphan appearance, mr pickles is actually a sweetheart. not only does he fulfill his feline duties—lounging around, occasionally chasing invisible ghosts, and knocking over things just for fun—he also doubles as babykuna’s personal weighted blanket. and let’s be honest, nothing has ever knocked babykuna out quite like mr pickles’ fluffy, oversized body. 

she sleeps like a brick, snoring so loudly that you once thought a grown man had somehow broken into the house and passed out in her room. but there she was—wrapped around mr pickles like a koala, drool dripping onto his fur, dead to the world. and mr pickles? he doesn’t complain even once. in fact, he doesn’t even move. just lies there, accepting his fate, staring blankly into the void while babykuna uses him as her personal mattress. what a versatile king. in fact, mr pickles has so many roles in this household.

a cat? yes.

a weighted blanket? absolutely.

a luxury aesthetic background for your new nail set photos? oh, you better believe it.

you take a picture of your freshly done nails—perfectly manicured, sitting against the soft, plush fur of mr pickles, the perfect neutral background. you send it to sukuna. he normally loves seeing your nails, but this time—his eyebrow twitches as he recognizes the background.

sukuna: are you using that fucking cat as a backdrop again you: mr pickles is an aesthetic marvel. sukuna: i will throw that thing in the washing machine

you report him to babykuna, who screeches in betrayal and slaps his arm like she’s defending her child from a monster. but let’s be real—the best thing about mr pickles? his impeccable manners.

the moment he finishes eating from his bowl, he delicately pushes it towards the sink—like some kind of distinguished gentleman disposing of his fine china. it is so polite that you almost want to give him a little bowtie. sukuna watches this with a blank face. “i feel like i should be impressed, but i also feel like i’m being manipulated.” and maybe, just maybe, he would grow to respect this cat.

except.

mr pickles is a hater. specifically, a sukuna hater. because whenever it comes to sukuna’s belongings? suddenly, mr pickles is the menace of the household.

one night, sukuna walks into the laundry room to grab his freshly washed, neatly pressed shirts, only to find mr pickles sprawled on top of them, looking at him with such deep, sorrowful eyes that sukuna physically cannot yell at him. he stares. mr pickles blinks slowly.

"…get the fuck off."

mr pickles closes his eyes and pretends to sleep.

"GET OFF."

the very next day, sukuna screams when he finds all of his socks shredded into oblivion—like someone went berserk with a pair of scissors. babykuna gasps, pointing at mr pickles. “papa! it was mr pickles!”

sukuna whirls to glare at the culprit. "you little shit—!"

mr pickles blinks at him, looking once again like a victorian boy with consumption.

sukuna’s rage stutters.

"…you think you’re funny, huh?"

mr pickles does not reply.

(but he does later eat an entire stack of sukuna’s important business papers™ and then vomits them out on the living room carpet.)

[ariascoven]

⟡ COZY & SPOOKY | A. HARKNESS

PAIRING : agatha harkness x reader

SUMMARY : nothing like a halloween movie night in the comfort of your home, with your wife and son

CONTENT + WARNINGS : established relationship, agatha is reader’s wife. domestic & fluff. soft agatha. gender neutral reader. petnames (dear, honey, love & cinnamon). agatha is weird and doesn't like hocus pocus — movie of the century 🤷‍♀️

WORD COUNT : 2k

A/N : happy halloween, witches <3 just a bit of soft wife agatha for the soul. also, i never meant for it to be this long, jesus christ. sorry? or you're welcome. i don't really like this, i dunno

AO3 | MASTERLIST

The soft rain poured outside and you watched as the raindrops raced their way down the kitchen window’s glass. You could hear the sound of your wife and son playing and laughing together in the next room, a soft smile playing on your lips as you finished making hot chocolate for your Halloween movie night, adding cream to Nichola’s cup and cinnamon to Agatha’s, just the way they liked it. “Honey, could you come help me carry the food?” You called out, your head poking out of the kitchen door.

You watched as your wife nodded, planting a quick kiss on your child’s forehead and ascending from the couch. She gave you a quick peck on the lips as she slipped into the kitchen, grabbing the popcorn and the chips. “You're not going to make me watch that ridiculous excuse of a witch movie, are you, dear?” She raised an eyebrow at you, her tone a mixture of annoyance and affection.

Your hands moved to your hips, mouth hanging open in the purest form of offense. “If you're talking about Hocus Pocus, yes, I will. And it is not ridiculous! It's a Halloween classic that made history. Be more respectful.” She laughed with amusement at your words, shaking her head.

You pouted, bottom lip sticking out in a childish manner. She used it to her advantage, tugging it between her teeth playfully and making you gasp. “I’ve never seen you defend your own wife the way you defend that movie. But fine, just because Nicky likes it. But just so you know-!”

You sighed, carrying the hot chocolate and marshmallows to the living room and ignoring your witchy wife blabbering about how Hocus Pocus is a terrible stereotype of witches and that they do not use brooms — even though you knew she used to, centuries ago. You gave Nicholas a hug as you sat down, pulling him onto your lap and ruffling his hair. “Ready for movie night, baby?” You asked softly. He nodded enthusiastically and you smiled at his happiness.

“Hey, that's my spot!” Agatha’s voice invaded the room as she walked in, offense etched into her features as she referred to your lap. Nicholas laughed and his tongue hung out of his mouth as he hugged you tightly in order to make Agatha jealous. “Oh, young man, you don't want to see me mad!” She said playfully, organizing the food on the small table in front of the TV and dragging it closer to the couch so Nicholas could reach it with more ease.

The two of you spent the entire morning decorating the whole house while Nicholas was asleep; fairy lights everywhere, paper bats glued onto the walls, a few skeletons around the rooms and small witch hats here and there — definitely your idea, Agatha hated them. Your wife would never reveal the upsetting truth about the disappearance of maybe two or three of the miniature hats; she got rid of them, muttering something about ‘ridiculous stereotypes’ before throwing them in the trash and covering it with an empty package of whatever snack she found.

Agatha plopped down onto the couch next to you with a contented sigh, her arm snaking around your shoulders as she gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, then on Nicky‘s. She rubbed your arm covered by your pumpkin sweater and nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent before pulling back, snatching the remote from the armrest and turning on the TV.

“I’m assuming we're watching Pocus Hocus.” She nagged, her voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain, saying the wrong movie title on purpose to piss you off. It worked, she notices, when she whipped her head to the side and found you with narrowed eyes. You heard your child giggle on your lap, shaking his head exaggeratedly. “No, mama! It's Hocus Pocus! Not Pocus Hocus!”

With a smile, you watched your wife feigning offense and confusion, a hand flying to her chest dramatically. “What? Are you playing tricks on me, young man? It's obviously Pocus Hocus!” You blinked in surprise at how quickly Agatha snatched little Nicholas from your lap, laying him down on the couch and tickling his most sensitive spots, causing the child to kick and wave his arms around in a failed attempt to stop his mother’s actions. The sound of laughter filled the room, your heart swelling with love towards your little family.

You took the opportunity to press play on the movie and adjust the volume, your own legs bouncing with excitement — even though you watched this movie every October 31st. You heard an excited gasp escape Nicholas’ lips as he heard the movie starting, breaking free from the witch’s cruel torture. He laid his head on your lap, his legs comfortably resting on top of Agatha’s. A smile tugged at the corner of your wife’s mouth as she reached over to caress your son’s wild locks, pooling around his head like a halo. “Little angel.” She muttered, not loud enough for him to hear, curious eyes glued onto the image on the television.

Without a word, your head fell to the side, resting on Agatha’s shoulder, soft hair grazing against her cheek. The three of you spent the entirety of the movie in the same position, occasionally reaching over to grab something from the snack table that you prepared with much love. Nicholas laughed as he threw a popcorn inside of Agatha’s mouth, cheering when she caught it with perfection, waving and blowing kisses towards the non-existing audience. You felt lucky.

Lucky that you found the woman of your dreams, and terribly lucky that she chose you. In a world where she could choose to build a family with a powerful witch like her, she chose you instead; the awkward neighbor next door with big, curious eyes that kept stealing adoring glances towards her. The only person who never judged her after discovering she was a witch or the things she had done in the past. The person that made her feel at home.

After a quick bathroom break, you started up a second Halloween movie. You would be lying if you said you paid attention to the name or even to whatever was happening in the story, head tipping forward as you fought against the sleep that threatened to wash over you. It seemed you lost the battle, being awakened by Agatha’s voice against your ear, her hands gently shaking you. “Honey, Nicky fell asleep. I’ll get him to bed, you stay right here, alright?” She mumbled quietly getting up from the couch.

You felt the weight being lifted from your lap as she picked up your son’s sleeping form, cradling him lovingly in her arms. You rubbed your tired eyes with the back of your hand and a yawn left your lips while you waited for her to come back, legs being lazily thrown over the couch’s armrest. Your eyes fluttered closed once more, feeling yourself falling asleep again. Until you felt something poking your cheek, turning your head to glance at Agatha standing over you. She smiled and pinched your cheek. “Sleeping Beauty #1 is tucked in. Now, come here, it's time for Sleeping Beauty #2.”

You let out a whine as you felt yourself being lifted from the couch by her strong arms, your own wrapping around her neck as you nuzzled against it and showered the warm skin with kisses. She chuckled, making her way upstairs carrying you like it's nothing. She kicked the bedroom door open and slipped inside, repeating the gesture to shut it closed. You whined when you noticed she ignores the existence of your cozy, perfect bed, going towards the bathroom instead. “Nuh uh, no complaining. Let's get you a bath, okay? Then you can sleep.”

An annoyed grunt left your lips, but you didn't say anything, allowing her to sit you down on top of the toilet seat. With heavy eyes, you watched as she got the water started, humming a song that you're sure she made up. Like a child, you put your arms up for her delicate hands slipping your sweater off. She tugged at the waistband of your pants and you lifted your hips, a pout lingering on your lips at how carefully she undressed you. She kept a hand on your lower back as you got into the bathtub filled with bubbles to ensure you didn't slip.

The water splashed as you kickes your feet like a child would, a sigh escaping your lips. Agatha sat down on the edge of the bathtub, hands massaging your shoulders. You groaned, feeling your body relax under your lover’s skilled touch. “If I wasn't so tired, I'd ask you to wash my hair. Your hands are so damn good.” You breathed out, eyes narrowing at the teasing chuckle that immediately left Agatha’s lips. “Pervert.”

“I didn't say a thing.” She quickly responded to your insult, putting her hands up defensively. A comfortable silence washed over the bathroom as she kept massaging your shoulders and neck. As you yawned exaggeratedly, she dipped a finger into the water, noting the temperature was turning cold. “We should get you to bed now, love.” No matter how long you've been together, whenever she spoke in that soft tone of hers you simply melted. And she melted too, a soft smile playing on her lips as she noticed your adoring gaze.

Quickly getting you out of the tub, she sat you down onto the toilet seat once more to dry you with her purple towel. “Is this gonna make me smell like you?” You questioned cheekily with a raised brow. She chuckled lightly, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“It might. Is that good or bad?” Instructing you to put your arms up, she dressed you with care; in her clothes, of course. You looked down at yourself, your body being protected from the cold air by Agatha’s long, black pajamas.

“Good.” You muttered as you wiggled your feet after she finished putting on the pair of white socks. “You know I have my own clothes, right?” You teased. Your yelp was loud when she threw you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, your hands clumsily reaching to grip the back of her shirt. She threw you onto the bed, making you frown playfully.

“But you look so much better in mine.”

You turned on your side, curling up. Agatha threw the covers on top of you, kissing your nose. You heard the brunette walking into the bathroom, assuming she's changing into more comfortable clothes. Eyebrows furrowed when you noticed she was brushing her teeth. Reluctantly slipping out of the warm bed, you sauntered to the bathroom, standing next to your wife and grabbing your own toothbrush. She watched with a raised brow.

“Need to brush my teeth too, or else they are gonna get all gross and you won't love me anymore.” She looked amused at your words, an arm wrapping around you as you brushed your teeth together.

“You could have stayed in bed, dear. I’d just wake you up by shoving toothpaste and a brush in your face first thing in the morning.” She whined when you nudged her with your elbow painfully.

When you were done, you left Agatha behind and rushed to the comfort of your bed, jumping on it like a child and giggling. “Be careful.” You heard her say, glancing back to find her leaning against the doorframe while drying her hands. Turning your back to her with a huff, you missed the way she shook her head in amusement and threw the hand towel on top of the sink — which would definitely earn her a scolding in the morning.

She shuffled into bed behind you, hugging you and kissing your neck a few times. You hummed in contentment, pushing back against her comfortably.

“Goodnight, cinnamon. I love you.” She spoke against your ear, making you shiver. Cinnamon. That's a new one, you thought. You barely had time to mutter a response before drifting off to sleep, feeling happy and at home. Because you were.

[rvp32]

Heir to the Clan's Legacy- Chapter 2

You flash step to Kazuha's house and knock on her door. 

"Zuha..you're here, right? Can we hang out? Let’s celebrate getting into our squads."

"Sure let's go! I was hoping to run into you and the others to go celebrate!" Zuha says

You shake your head though. 

"Zuha wait...that's not exactly what I meant..I wanted to celebrate with you a different way.."

Zuha being the innocent and lost girl she always is, "Huh what do you mean" She questions

"Zuha...I like you. You like me too right? I want to be in a relationship with you...it's important to restart my clan someday, but I'd like to explore a relationship with you."

"oh Y/n this is all of a sudden, but yes, I do like you and I would also love to explore our relationship and see where it goes"

You then take a step forward and kiss her passionately. 

"I want you to be mine, Zuha...I want to mark you as mine.."

Zuha kisses you deepening the kiss and playing with your tongue 

you snake your hand around her back and pull her closer to you

"I've been waiting a long time to do that.." You say sincerely. You hold onto Zuha's hand. 

"Shall we go? Let's find the others and get something to eat. Hold on tight okay?" 

Zuha blushes. 

"I can just follow you, ya know?" 

"Yeah, but my flash step is faster than yours!" You tease.

"Hey that's not true and you know that, I can keep up with you!" Kazuha whines 

"I know you can, but I also want to carry my precious girlfriend," you say causing Kazuha to blush

Zuha was already lieutenant-level. Her flash step, swordsmanship, and even Hakuda. She had a very graceful way of combat. But her kido skills were captain-level. 

You didn't want to tell her you always held back. 

Zuha hits you lightly. "In private okay? I don't want all of soul society to see us like that so soon?" 

You nod and smile.

"Okay..okay..let's go..let's see, Mina should be closest to you right? Let's go find her next."

"So tell me, what do you want to do after we meet with Mina?" Kazuha asks as she follows behind you.

"I don't know yet, but I was thinking of trying to get some food and chill at her place" you reply hoping to cool off a little.

Zuha nods. 

But you turn around and flash her a smile. And kiss her forehead. 

"I've wanted to do that for a long time..." You then grab her hand flash step faster than before. 

Zuha noticed you moved faster but she kept the thought to herself.

'Was he always this fast' Zuha thought as she tried to keep up with you. 

Once you reach Mina's place, you knock on the door and while waiting for her to open the door, you place a quick kiss on Kazuha's lips. 

"Hey, I told you not outside, once we are home we can do this how much ever you want, " she says. 

"OH however long I want huh?" You tease.

Zuha blushes and hits you gently. 

"Yah..not in front of Mina or in public okay?" 

"Mhmm...I want to talk to you about something later too, but in private." You say gently.

"Ohh what's it about?" Zuha asks her curiosity getting the better of her. 

Mina opens the door, "Heyy! I wasn't expecting you guys!" Mina says, smiling and excited

You smile back. 

"Mina! Congrats, I heard you got picked and you chose squad 3. Isn't Captain Ichimaru kind of scary though? We want to celebrate with you."

"Yeah, I would love to celebrate!! he is kinda scary at first but when you get to know him a little he isn't too bad" Mina says 

"ohh that is interesting because I have never once heard that man speak," you reply. 

"Alright forget about the captains for a bit, where do you guys want to celebrate!!" Zuha says

"Let's go get some Japanese BBQ, you suggest." 

"Should we see where Jihyo and Nayeon are?" 

"I think they said they were off training, you know how those two are. Let's just go the 3 of us." Mina says.

"Yeah sure, those guys won't stop training for some reason, almost like they are trying to become captains!" Kazuha says 

"BBQ sounds so nice right now, I am starving after all that swimming I was just doing," Mina replies as she plays with her hair 

"It's settled then let's go and get some Japanese BBQ!" you scream and walk toward the restaurant with Zuha and Mina following you

Mina raises her eyebrow a little too and looks to Kazuha. 

"Was he always that fast?" She asks as you disappear in a powerful flash step, effortlessly.

"I know right? I always thought that I could keep up and maybe even have a chance at beating him but he must have been hiding his true speed," Zuha says as she tries to follow you. 

"That sneaky bastard I can't believe that he would hide this from us!" Mina says, she slowed down a little to let Kazuha keep up with her but she was a lot faster than her but not as fast as you.

"There you guys are, I've been waiting forever.." You tease. 

As you all get seated, you sit across from Kazuha and Mina both and prepare to feast.

"Don't act so cocky!" Mina says as she finishes ordering the food. Given that Mina and Kazuha used to be Japanese before they came to Soul Society, you decided not to interfere because they would know what tasted the best 

"So tell me, what have you guys been up to, we haven't met since basically the last day of the tests which was when we all graduated," Mina asks

"Not much on my end, just preparing for those tests.." You say, but you subtly reach under the table with your left hand and rub at Kazuha's foot.

Gasp Kazuha's sudden gasp alerts Mina 

"what happened? Is something wrong," Mina asks Zuha.

You shoot Kazuha another look but continue to rub at her foot. 

"Hey, I prepared for my exam alright, don't need to gasp and act so surprised," I say recovering quickly.

"yeah right given how long I have known you, you were probably lazing around and bothering Taeyeon Unnie instead of actually studying," Kazuha replies in retaliation. 

"That is so true, I wonder how poor Taeyeon Unnie deals with you, it must be so draining for her to be your caretaker," Mina replies.

You decide to get revenge by placing Kazuha's foot against your crotch. Your face sours a little at the mention of Taeyeon..which reminded you..there was someone you needed to visit after this.

Kazuha gives you a shocked look as she feels your dick growing on her feet, she didn't know what to do especially given that Mina was right next to her grilling the meat.

What you would give to have them both right now...both of them pleasuring you...both Kazuha and Mina's soft ballerina feet on your cock

fuck it would be absolute heaven to have those skilled feet working your cock and trying to make it cum, you thought as Zuha continued to grill the meat. 

You quickly finish up your BBQ meal and enjoy the conversation. 

"This was fun, but I've got to run and visit my aunt.." You say.

"Okay, see you around," Kazuha and Mina say in unison before both going their way.

You flash step to your aunt Yoona's. You were now very pent up.

"Hey, Y/N what are you doing here shouldn't you be at home with Taeyeon unnie? " She questions as she lets you into her house

You shake your head. 

"We got into a little spat, so I honestly need comfort right now..." You say, hugging Yoona, but rubbing at her back. She felt nice, a lovely woman, and like a second mother to you.

"Aww is that so baby! what did Unnie do to make you run away from home like this, "Yoona says as she also rubs the back of your head hoping to cool you down a little

You nod. 

"I-I tried to show Taeyeon how much she meant to me..how much I love her...but she rejected me...you wouldn't do that would you?" I say as I pull away from the hug and kiss her passionately.

Yoona is shocked at first but gives it and kisses you deeply. Eventually, both of you pull apart for air 

"I was not expecting that baby but if that is what you want then your auntie will indulge you pretty boy," Yoona says as she pulls you into another deep and passionate kiss, this time pushing her tongue into your mouth and exploring it

I then pull away. 

"I want to call you Mommy as well...I'm so pent up..mommy...can you make me feel better?" I say with lust.

"Aww does my little baby have a mommy kink?" Yoona teases 

"maybe..." you reply shy about finally admitting something that you haven't told anyone about. 

"you have to be honest with me baby, otherwise mommy can't make you feel better," Yoona says

"I do..especially when it's with a beautiful woman like you..." I say as I go into her kiss again, this time with my tongue.

you reach around Yoona and grab her ass with both your hands giving I a nice squeeze, this causes Yoona to moan into your mouth. 

"Someone is very excited to feel their mommy," Yoona says as she feels your hard cock poking her stomach through your clothes. 

"You're mine now, mommy...I've wanted you for a long time...and you know the clan rules...I need a harem to rebuild."

"I know the rules baby but would your mommy be okay with this, I am in fact her best friend so I will have to tell her about all this once we are finished," Yoona warns.

I smirk internally. 

"Why? It's my life...I'm an adult now, so are you. You want this right? You love me right? You'd make such a good mother to my children, our future children. Tell me...don't you want me to breed you?"

"Fuck, I would love nothing more than to be bred by you but I also don't want to destroy my relationship with your mommy Taeyeon so until you get her permission no breeding me but we can still take care of this," Yoona says as she rubs your clothed cock

You moan. 

"Footjob Mommy...that's what I want first..can you go sit in that chair and give me a hot footjob?"

"if that's what you want baby boy then that's what you shall get," Yoona says before sitting on the chair and you kneel in front of her and take off your clothes and let your hard cock free.

I grab her ankle and raise her right foot to my face, smelling it, and kiss her sole. She uses her other foot and rubs at my cock.

"such a hard cock and those balls look so full, I see that your mommy Taeyeon has been neglecting you quite a bit hasn't she," yoona says as she enjoys you worshipping her foot and your cock throbbing on her other foot. 

You pout and nod. 

"Yes...they are so full and need to be drained...I fucking love your feet, Mommy..." You say as you suck on her toes with pure hunger. Yoona grips your cock head with her toes.

"Aww is that so pretty boy let mommy make you cum all over her pretty feet," Yoona says as she plays with your hard cock.

Yoona follows what you ask and uses both her feet and grips your feet tight and hard pumping them with vigor. 

"Does that feel good baby?" Yoona asks

"Holy fuck...that feels so good..oh fuck Mommy...yeah your feet are so pretty...so strong..fuck it's so hot...I want to cum all over your feet!"

"Go on baby paint your mommy's pretty feet white with all your cum! Show me how much you are enjoying this" Yoona says.

I howl and my spiritual pressure flares up as I explode, unleashing a hot torrent of white cum all over her feet. 

"Oh fuck yes mommy..." I groan loudly.

"Oh wow that's a lot of cum, you must've been quite frustrated baby," Yoona says as she picks up your cum from her feet and licks it

"I was..so much.." You then flash step and pick her up, tossing her on her bed. 

"And now I need to fuck you mommy...fuck you so fucking hard.." You growl as your energy increases.

"oh is that so? I love your young enthusiasm such a needy boy, go on Show me, fuck me baby"  Yoona said. 

"yes Mommy I am going to fuck you hard so fucking hard that you won't be able to walk for the next week after we are done!" you said.

You smirk and subtly use a kido to call for a hidden hell butterfly. "Send to Taeyeon...tell her to come to Yoona's..."

"what are you doing pretty boy, leaving your pretty mommy like me waiting for your fat cock," Yoona moans as she plays with her drenched pussy

I smirk. 

"How bad do you want it, mommy? Your baby boy is all grown up now..and ready to own and ruin your fucking pussy.."

"I need it so fucking badly, my pussy is ready for that fat cock to stretch out my tight pussy," Yoona moans

I snarl and shove it all the way inside without more warning. 

"Holy fucking hell..you're so fucking tight, hot and wet.." I can't help but kiss her with my tongue.

"OH MY FUCKING GODD! That fat cock is stretching me out so fcking badly" Yoona moans! 

"Holy fuck this is amazing, you are so fucking deep inside me, I can feel it in my stomach," Yoona screams, her stomach bulging every time you push your cock deep into her

"Who owns this pussy now, mommy? Who fucking owns it?"

"You! You own my fucking, it belongs to you !"

I begin to thrust harshly, quickly, and powerfully inside her. Loving how her stomach bulged every time. 

"Tell me again..you don't want me to fucking breed you mommy? You don't want me to paint your walls white?"

"No no not without Taeyeon unnies permission! She will be livid!" Yoona manages to say as she is being pounded and destroyed

You had to time this right...hopefully, Taeyeon received your message and will be here soon…

"Oh my god this is just so perfect, I am going to go dumb with how hard you are fucking me! Keep going!" Yoona moans.

But you pull out and then choke her a little. 

"I will only keep going if I can dump my seed inside you, Mommy..." I growl.

"No anything but that baby! I told you anything but that please put it back in, it feels so empty without that huge cock inside my pussy" Yoona whines

"You said I own your pussy. If that's true...I'm going to cum inside of it whenever I want!" I hiss and plunge back inside her again, going even harder this time.

"Nggh fuckkk I want it so bad but we shouldn't, I can't do that to unnie she will kill me" Yoona moans

You pull out and increase your spiritual pressure. 

"If I can't cum inside you, then I'm not going to fuck you." I hiss.

"No no pleaseee just this once baby, mommy needs it so badly. Please baby don't stop it feels so fucking amazing!" Yoona groans

You push your cock near her pussy, but just the tip. 

"I cum inside. That's the deal." I say with lust.

" Please baby I want it so badly but I can't destroy my friendship" Yoona whines

You smirk, Yoona was too lustful to notice, but you could sense Taeyeon coming. 

You then plunge your cock inside her harshly and begin to fuck her with abandon. 

"Bakudo, Sai!" I say, paralyzing Yoona so you could just fuck her without resistance.

"Fuck Mommy your pussy is so tight and perfect, it's sucking in my cock like there is no tomorrow," you say

Yoona could barely comprehend what was happening....she couldn't think about how you used a level 1 binding spell on her. That shouldn't have been possible.

You sensed Taeyeon was close by so you needed to time this perfectly.

Yoona was completely unable to move and the pleasure was getting too much for her, her mind was blanking.

You smirk. 

"Perfect..oh I'm cumming mommy! I'm going to fucking cum in you!"

Yoona tried to struggle but she couldn't do anything, for some reason, the spell was too powerful completely immobilizing her

You explode a hot white torrent inside her, coating her walls. "Oh fuck Mommy...get bred...you're my whore now..." As you empty inside, right on cue, you feel the door open and a presence behind you.

Yoona was lost in pleasure her eyes rolling back at the feeling of your hot cum being dumped inside her filling her up to the brim

"What the hell is this?" A woman screams behind you and you smirk, turning around.

Yoona gets a glimpse of who it is and tries to move but the spell is preventing her from moving and even speaking up. 

"Oh you are here a lot faster than expected Mommy," You say as you slowly pull out of Yoona

[writeyouin]

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

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

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

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Honestly? Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

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

“That’s my girl.”

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

“Is there anything else you need?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

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

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

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

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

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

“Alright,” He agreed.

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

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

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

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

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 5: Naga/Lamia [Elemental Sacrifices Part 1/4]

I am fashionably late and since this story was supposed to come out on my birthday I switched the prompts since we all know Nagas are my roman empire, hehe >:3

Also this is part 1 of 4 of a little mini-series happening in this Monstober Challenge, and I will lovingly call it the Elemental Sacrifices. I know we already had a sacrifice before, but what if—hear me out—we have 4 more? Yes, I thought that was a good idea too, glad we agree :D

(They are not much related aside from the concept, but they are in the same universe, so maybe there's some potential for future ideas! :D)

Prompt: Day 6: Naga/Lamia | Scales // Wrapping around // Poisonous Warnings: Yandere, AFAB!Reader, Sexual Actions (Dub-Con, Use of Aphrodisiac, Drinking said Aphrodisiac and getting it stabbed into your arm, Deep Kissing, Accidentally cutting your own tongue, Fingering), Violence (Biting with fangs, Description of (meager) fighting, Cutting the enemy, Blood mention), Monsters + Descriptions of Monsters, Light self-degradation, Long Post

The tradition had always existed.

From the moment you were born, you were told about the sacrifices made to the four gods, which took place twice a century. The four tribes would unite in peace and unity for this month of reverence, choosing their sacrifices carefully and laying down their weapons to organize and strategize the ceremonies so that no god would feel aggrieved. It was a wonder that people that worshipped different things, lived by different means, and usually clashed like hot and cold, light and shadow, could work together meaningfully to pay their respects, assure that everyone would continue to be in the favor of the different gods that roamed the lands you lived on.

And yet, somehow, it had always worked out.

"There, almost done," your mother mumbled, curling your still-damp hair around her finger so it would frame your face. You clenched your fists in your lap as you sat in front of the mirror, unable to even look at yourself without retching. 20 years ago, when you were told the stories for the first time, no one had assumed you'd be the one to be sacrificed in the next ceremony. No one informed you that your days were numbered, your purpose to be nothing but monster fodder.

Because that's what they were, monsters, nothing more, nothing less.

A two-headed snake, an ancient tree, a tentacled beast, and a fire-spewing reptile with wings—those were the four monsters you and the other tribes worshipped with offerings and sacrifices. All your life, you practiced the mindful handling of the teachings, learning how to hunt, fight, and serve your god. But even so, just because you were born the child of the leader, you were going to be discarded by your own people, and your hatred was as fiery as the vulcanos that surrounded your homeland.

"I heard the water tribe sends their most wonderful singer this year, too."

It was a frail attempt at small talk, and you couldn't care less about how pleased your mother sounded as she told you about the other sacrifices. The other poor souls that probably wanted nothing more than to run away about now. You had hidden your tears very well with your head hung low, but you couldn't imagine the other sacrifices felt any less miserable as you did.

You had plans for the future, plans that involved leading this tribe and creating a family sometime. Maybe participate in a war with the other tribes and show off the prowess of the fire tribe leader's oldest child. It was in the nature of your people to be strong and powerful, as was the exceptional artistry of the water people.

"And the earthclan sends another one of their scholars. I don't understand why they think the nature gods would like all these people hiding with their noses in their books, but I'm sure they have their reason for choosing them. Oh, but the wind people are also sending their ruler's child, just like you!"

A tone of pride swung in her voice as she continued arranging vividly red flowers like a crown in your head, pulling at strands of your hair to wrap them into the stems so they'd hold. "And yet, you'll make the prettiest sacrifice of them all. You'll make us all so proud!"

Inside of you, a war broke loose. A war you knew you couldn't win as you knelt on the floor of your childhood home, the place you always thought safest in all of the lands, yet it was no longer the place you'd return to after this expedition. All your good deeds and all your achievements were for naught because when the announcement was sent out that the sacrifice was going to be held that year, it ended your life instantly.

A part of you knew it could happen. Although you never wished this fate on anyone, you had always hoped for a sibling, born or adopted into your family, that could take this responsibility from you ever since you learned of it. Other tribes voted. They chose by luck or by skill at the time of sacrifice. But not yours. Yours had traditions, which meant the leader's strongest family member would go to the gods and ask for their blessings. Get eaten in exchange for a promise of safety and prosperity that the monsters could easily break on a whim. Returning would mean the blessing failed, so that wasn't an option. If you couldn't appease them alive, you would do it with your death. The ultimate sacrifice.

"Now, you're perfect. Look at you, my pretty child."

Pushing her fingertips into the underside of your jaw, your mother forced you to look up into the mirrors. Tears tumbled from your eyes as your head snapped upwards to avoid the discomfort of her nagging touch, and you watched her expression fall in her reflection. Not from sorrow, mind you, but anger.

"This is your duty," she reminded you. "Now that you have grown up and proved your worth, you should feel honored to be chosen."

You bit your tongue, swallowing the disrespect you wanted to voice. You couldn't care less about the sacrifice, about gaining the ire of some monster that some old people had decided to worship. About your mother's opinion or that of anyone else!

Deep inside you, you were afraid. Fear, first and foremost, had always been your teacher. It showed you the boundaries of your abilities and pushed you to perform deeds beyond your capabilities in times of need. It wasn't something to be ashamed of or scolded for; it was natural and normal.

But right behind it was anger. Anger at this tradition, anger at your family, and anger at the monsters for demanding lives in exchange for peace. Gods they called themselves, but there was nothing godly about how they conducted their demands. They were cowards with a taste for human blood, and instead of fighting and being slain by those humans, they demanded sacrifices to satisfy their hunger.

And there was nothing you could do to save yourself.

If you rebelled, you'd be dragged out by your limbs and hair, even if that destroyed the work they put into prettying you up. Who needed to be pretty when they'd be eaten alive? Still, as a warrior at heart, you couldn't imagine a greater shame than to force your friends to bring you to that dreadful sacrificial space, even if they might think it was for the greater good. If you had to go out, you wanted to do so with your head held high, no matter how foolish that pride of yours was. It was better than to put your unfair death entirely into the hands of others.

If you were going to be a martyr, then you'd at least die fighting until your last breath.

---

"That's far enough," you announced, coming to a halt at the edge of the lush green forest you used to hunt in. Before you, vulcanic stone spread in dark hues as far as you could see. Ash filled the air, mixed with the taste of metal and fire. Nothing grew on the stone ground, it was as welcoming as a death threat. Veins of red broke through the stone, leading to pools of lava that was cooking beneath the stone surface, the air simmering from the heat that immediately greeted you, coating your skin in a sheen of sweat. Once you had found the duality of this place beautiful. Now you dreaded it, hands curled into fists as you took slow, steady breaths to calm yourself.

"I wish to face the gods myself."

"Go forth then. Make us proud," your father expressed, resting his hand on your shoulder. A simple squeeze was all you got, and much like your mother who hugged you before your departure, their gestures were too brief to be any comfort. You wondered how they could have possibly come to terms so quickly with losing their own child when you, the one to be sacrificed, were struggling with your fear and pride.

Every step on the hot floor was like a stab of a knife in your back. The hunting party that had accompanied you watched as you continued your journey towards the sacrificial space the ancestors had created, their gazes like whips that spurred you on. But they didn't linger. Since they didn't have to tie you down on the altar, they had no reason to watch the gruesome death of their own kind, knowing that either way, you weren't going to return. You knew the way back to your village like the inside of your pocket, years of roaming the jungles teaching you how to go home. But they'd kill you before you cursed the village with your failure to be sacrificed. Merciless, cold. You were no longer a part of them. You were a meager part of the tradition now.

However, the way to the altar was actually more of a challenge than going home. You had only been there once as a child, laying flowers down for your uncle, who had been the last sacrifice years before your birth. Your father may have called him your uncle, but it turned out he was an adopted orphan who ended up paying for his dedication to your family much later. Your father seemed unsympathetic towards him, but it dawned on you that he must have never been close to this brother of his, probably knowing the fate that awaited him.

You never knew your uncle, but back then, you had been proud of him, too.

That day was also the first time your father explained the traditions and the importance of keeping them up. How much honor it brought to your family and how many lives it saved to lose one person. You wondered why, after he taught you so many skills, worked so hard to make you a respected member of your tribe, and loved you like a father would, he could so easily send you to your death. But it slowly dawned on you what kind of person your father was. One that didn't truly cared for his "family", only for his own pride and gains. And you had been so easily fooled as to believe him all this time.

It took you much longer than you remembered, but eventually, you reached the grounds your ancestors had created for this spectacle. It was close to the foot of the volcano, an altar erected from the stone sprouting from the ground with nothing else present in this wasteland. The heat had increased substantially over time, every breath burning in your lungs, your eyes dry, and your feet chafed from walking over the smoldering stone for so long. Dread was no longer a constant companion as acceptance slowly crept into your mind. You had seen the bones of many humans on the way to this place. Apparently, not everyone had been so lucky to have made it this far, either the environment or the monster killing them before they reached the altar. Or maybe themselves, now that you thought about it.

The sight of the raised altar forced a shuddering breath out of your lungs, the stinging sensation barely enough to distract you from the blaring truth. You were going to die. One way or another, you would. Touching the side of your leg, you felt the leather holster beneath your dress. The dagger you sneaked would probably not be enough to kill the monster, if there ever was one. Still, if you could inflict some damage to it, perhaps your tribe would one day snap out of the trance that it was this immortal threat that your ancestors appeased by offering their own children to it. Maybe they'd see the wounds and realize they didn't have to cower in fear of it, and thus, maybe your sacrifice would not be in vain.

Brushing your hand over the warm stone, you felt an untypical cold shudder run down your spine, knowing it was meant to be your deathbed. You wondered how many before you had laid here, waiting for the monster to come. How many had prayed, hoped, and begged to be saved, and how many had fought and struggled like you were going to. Following in their footsteps now, you knew they did what they thought was their best. That was the greatest honor you could bestow on them.

You hoisted yourself up, struggling to climb on top of the massive stone slab, before you sat close to the edge and stretched out your legs, feeling the burned and chafed soles of your feet crack as they finally got some rest. Hissing, you were confronted with the pain, yet you only sighed, swiping your hands over your face to free you of the sweat that was desperately trying to cool you down. Even if you were used to the warmer temperature of your home, it was nothing against the volcanic heat, and you almost admired it for burning for so long, never bothered by anyone. The air was as heavy as your soul felt, trapped in your body and scared to the heavens.

Imagining the snake did very little to soothe your mind, but you still tried to prepare for the shock its sight undoubtedly would be. You imagined a snake as tall as a building, with two heads splitting apart at one end. Heads with sharp fangs and venom dripping out of their mouths, eyes that ate you up before their maw even got close to you. It would slither over the ground, nimble, avoiding the lava pools, but too large to hide behind the wasteland it reigned over. Bloodlust urging it on as it smelled the sweet fragrance of the flowers on your head, which were delighted to bloom in the warm temperatures. A green tail? Brown? Perhaps a little of both? Maybe its scales were dark red like all the blood it drank from the sacrifices.

"Look at that, they do sacrifice their own kind."

Deep in thought, the heat probably having gone to your head, you hadn't noticed the chafing sound that slithered closer from behind. Only when someone suddenly spoke did your mind alert you of the danger, and you jumped down from the altar, swiftly spinning around and bracing yourself. One hand hovered over your dagger beneath your dress, and the other arm stayed defensively in front of you. With the distance you managed to jump and the massive altar separating you from the monster, you were at a surprising advantage, and it felt good to have the upper hand.

Your eyes widened at the sight of two men standing behind the altar, one of them leaning down on the stone surface right next to where you had sat. In contrast, the other stood straight with his arms behind his back, but both watched you with burning intensity. Immediately, you noticed their similar appearances, the light grey hair falling from their heads, bound by braids, and still with countless strands falling over their exposed chests. Their eyes were like marbles, reflecting the different colors of the area in them, elongated pupils slightly vibrating as they fixated over and over on you. But what really put you off was their size. Their legs must have been easily as tall as the altar, and that was no size a normal human should have had.

"Mother never told us sacrifices were this cute."

The man leaning on the table rolled over on his side, his hair splaying all over the altar in waves. And yet, even while moving, his gaze never trailed off—but yours did. You let out a horrified gasp as the scaled tail of a snake buckled and arched to accommodate the man's movements, and with a surprised jolt, he reared upwards, exposing even more of the tail that started at his hips.

A moment of silence washed over you three, and you felt incredibly exposed and stared down by two pairs of eyes as if they were pinning you into place. Willing you to not move a muscle, to be eaten without putting up a fight. No one said anything before the startled man laughed out loudly, shaking his head and holding his belly before slapping his free hand attention-seekingly against his companion's arm.

"That scared me," he chuckled. "I've never heard that kind of sound before."

The other man let out a hum of agreement, nodding his head before looking back at you. You were at a clear disadvantage, unsure where to look first and who to focus on, as you were outnumbered by the two. The one that kept talking was smaller than the other, although this could have been the heat playing tricks on you. Both were muscular, but he was less refined than his almost-twin. You wagered you could take him on if there wasn't a scaley tail winding from his hips. That would be additional weight you couldn't topple, no matter how much you playfighted the other hunters and warriors of your tribe, which sometimes outdid you in terms of weight and size.

The quieter one, on the other hand, had the typical looks of a working man in the village: big arms coming from a strong back and toned muscles that the woman would drool over, while the other seemed fit and nimble. But your eyes unwillingly focused on the tail as the two scaled the altar, moving forward oddly in sync until it became clear why.

Their two strands of tails flowed together between them into one massive one.

It was mesmerizing, you had to admit, the scales an iridescent white. But whenever the tail moved, it took on the hues of the land, grey and red, only to return to their original color as it wound itself. You were awestruck and panicked at the same time, as the tail seemed to be neverending, wrapping around the altar, finding hold on the stony ground that even your feet struggled with. Fear filled you as you watched their slithering movements, the mistake in your thinking now glaringly clear: The monster existed, and it had come for you.

"Y-You're the monster!" you screamed, and the smaller one of the two scrunched up his nose, taking offense. The white scales swept over the altar, landing in the space between you and the stone with a heavy thud. His body was barely shaken by the impact, so perfectly in balance with itself despite their unnatural split into two different entities, and the seriousness of the situation rained down on you like their sharp gazes as you realized there would be no chance of you overpowering either of them.

Even with their connection, they spread out too far to reach both simultaneously. They could still move independently, even if their range was limited to what their body could give. But even without them rearing up on the tail, they were almost two heads taller than you were. They knew their body better than anyone, and you didn't doubt they had some tricks up their non-existing sleeves to best you.

Biting your lip, you finally slipped your hand beneath your dress, never letting the monster—monsters—out of your sight. To your surprise, you watched their gazes slip to where you raised the fabric, observing you with curious intention, their split tongues slipping out from their lips, tasting the air as they ogled at your exposed thigh.

Your hand curled around the grip of your dagger, and the moment you pulled it from its holster, the snakes lept forward. There was no time to be proud of yourself, but your reaction was immaculate. You jumped back just in time to avert the nimble one's grabby hands, even drawing blood as your blade slit open the skin between his thumb and pointer finger.

However, as fast as you dealt with one of the snakes, you couldn't recover quickly enough to avoid the second pair of hands. Much like you anticipated, their range was too extensive to fight both of them at once, and although you ducked beneath one hand of the stronger monster, his second hand latched on, right in your hair. You watched as the red petals of the flower crown loosened and swayed in the air like a sad veil of defeat.

Your head was yanked back, and you acted quickly, directing the knife towards the unprotected free shoulder, somewhere that would hurt. Somewhere that would leave a visible scar and show everyone that these monsters could be injured. But a bloody grip around your wrist prevented you from pushing the dagger into the creature's partially scaled bodies, your hopes crumbling into ash.

"You good?" the more muscular man asked, and the other clicked his tongue in annoyance while you flailed and struggled in their grip. Your free hand was useless as you couldn't even reach forward enough, and so were your legs as you stood on your tiptoes while they yanked you around.

The latter lifted the hand that was holding your wrist to his mouth, licking up the blood that spilled from the cut on his as he maintained eye contact. You bared your teeth in both pain and defiance, not showing any of the miserable fear and panic you felt inside. You didn't manage to do what you came here for, and you felt the power surging through their bodies just from their hands on you. The failure gnawed at your determination, the fight as good as lost.

"We're not monsters," he hissed, glowering at you, although it looked more like a pout. "But you sure are quick on your feet."

Their comments should not have caused your heart to swell with pride, but hearing it from the monster you swore to hurt in exchange for your life did feel good.

"Surely you wish you'd have gotten an easier meal, monster! But I won't go down until I have shown everyone that you can be wounded and defeated! That you will bleed if the people unite! There will be no more sacrifices once they've seen what I did to you!"

"We're not monsters!" they repeated in unison before exchanging a brief glance with each other.

"Well, I won't call you god and beg for your mercy!" you spat, and the lips of the snake with your hand in his grip curled into a grin.

"Are you sure about that?"

With his blood coating your hand, he raised it way over your head, causing you to gasp as your whole body strained to accommodate the movement. His hand slipped upwards, a few fingers holding you in place, while some snaked between your palm and the knife in your grasp, prying your hold from it inch by inch. You let out a soft whine as the leather grip was torn from you and watched the metal clatter to the ground.

But you didn't have the time to mourn the loss of your only weapon, not when your arm was bent backward. Immediately, your free hand shot up, trying to dig your nails into the fingers wrapped around your wrist still.

That was your greatest mistake. With his free hand, the quiet monster immediately reached for both of yours, wrapping them in his palm as quickly as their tail could around your body.

You were kept on your tiptoes as you felt the scales of said tail slither over your skin. Creeping beneath your soles and running up your ankles, squeezing the flesh of your shins firmly together before wrapping around each thigh individually. You kicked and squirmed, but their tail was almost as unrelenting as their hands, and you involuntarily winced as your wrists were squeezed together as if tied by a rope.

"It's true we are not the monster you're trying to defeat," the leaner one claimed again, licking his wound like an injured animal.

"That's our mother," his brother explained curtly, and your head whirled around to him, the questions etched into your face.

"Look at us; we're only half the snake she is."

With an exasperated huff, you looked back and forth between the two, reeling at the revelation. "That's not possible! You... you are a snake with two heads. It's exactly as it's told in our stories!"

"They're not wrong..."

"I mean, she is a literal snake with two heads. And she's gigantic. You should be glad she didn't find you first, or you'd be even less than a small snack for her."

"And our dad is human. Like you."

You must have looked rightfully befuddled as the two went back and forth on their explanation, but once they were done, you could only gulp, unsure what to make of the situation. "So... you're not the monster that demands sacrifices?"

"No."

"Not really."

"Then..." It was hard to form the words that zapped through your mind, your mouth suddenly feeling dry again as the adrenaline sifted from your blood flow. Nothing could rationalize this situation, and you were still strung up by their hands and tail. This almost felt too good to be true, so you had to take your chance as long as you could. "You'll let me go?"

A moment of silence hung over all three of your heads before the brothers slowly ripped their gazes off you to exchange sly smirks. You wobbled as their body—and by extension, yours—set into motion, slithering back to the altar until you were sat down, your back forced to rest on the stone like a lamb to slaughter, hands hanging over the edge above your head and legs still wrapped by their tail.

"Oh, you can't just leave," the lean one purred, coming up from below you and planting his clawed hands firmly on either side of your arms. "The nights get so cold, and the days are so lonely with our mom busy occupying our dad. She never lets us play with him or come back to our home. Won't you keep us company for a while longer? I'm sure you can teach us some things, and we can teach you."

The other settled on the opposite side, still holding your hands in place as he grunted in agreement. You felt the bile rise in your throat as one touch slipped below your line of sight, claw-like nails raking up your thigh and moving beneath your dress. Their intentions got more apparent as the fabric was gripped from above, too, slowly, sensually raising over your skin until the hip strap of your underwear was revealed.

In a last-ditch effort, you tried to struggle once more, legs tugging upwards and kicking at the ever-winding tail while your hands twisted in their hold, causing it to crush down onto your bones even more. That wasn't how you wanted to go down; it wasn't the fight to death you thought you'd have!

"End me, then. Get it over with," you yelled out, laying your head to the side and closing your eyes, the reality too hard to face. Sooner or later, you'd die anyway, and if this were the things you'd have to endure, you'd rather be dead. It wasn't the kind of sacrifice you wanted to be, one defiled and molested before you'd be killed, so you'd rather be dead than witness it.

"Hush now," someone murmured, and you felt a hand sweep underneath your chin, turning your head forward again before tugging it up and over the altar's edge. Your eyes snapped open as your instincts kicked in, but as you opened your mouth to scream, it was quickly covered by another.

A tongue slipped between your opened lips before you could close them, slashing around inside harshly and clogging your throat. There was too much to take, and you gulped down the wetness it brought, sloshing it everywhere to the point it dripped from your lips, running down your face that immediately heated up beneath the fluid. It tasted sweet and even when you wanted to stop, you couldn't, gulping down all that was given to you.

Your body began to relax while you felt a hand drive down the front of your torso, brushing an entire palm over your breast and getting stuck on your nipple. You jolted, a pang of electricity flying to your head and down your spine, your back arching as you couldn't understand what was going on anymore. You had never felt this sensitive before, and as the hand continued to roam from one side to the other, finding the budding nip beneath your dress and twisting it, you let out an unholy moan into the mouth of the monster, your own tongue lashing upwards until it got caught on a sharp fang. Despite not feeling it, you were pretty sure your tongue was ripped open, but even more of the sweet-tasting, addictive stuff dripped from the fang, gushing into your mouth. You gobbled it up, considering you had nothing to drink throughout your journey, and your mind was not getting enough of the taste.

"Considering how quickly you got hooked on our mating fluids, I'd not be surprised if you do end up calling us gods when we're done with you."

You barely heard the voice of the curious onlooker beyond your line of sight, your mind wholly crazed by the liquid that coated all of your mouth and senses. It took almost more work to extract the monster's tongue from your throat than it had putting it inside. Your head followed it upwards, unwilling to part while the drool kept dripping down onto your face.

As you were freed of the kiss, a shameful, miserable sigh of disappointment escaped you, and you barely regained the ability to reply, "Never," in response to what the snake had said. That caused both of them to chuckle, and the sound sent a core-clenching, spine-tingling warmth throughout your body. Your lips quivering as your mind begged for more of that deep rumble cursing through their bodies.

"We'll see about that," the monster from below mumbled as he raked his claws over your thigh. Immediately, you were jolting upwards in their hold, caught between pain and pleasure as he lightly scabbed your skin. It was a small revenge for his own wound, and the scratches burned deliciously as they welcomed the hot air all around you two. "You're already so wet for us."

"It's called sweat," you mewled defiantly, the sound of your voice not befitting your sarcasm. You clenched your legs together, but it was a vain effort with the tail still stuck above your knees, easily prying them open by driving upwards. The scales rubbing over your skin didn't help your misery at all, and you wanted to throw your head against a solid wall with how dizzy and needy you felt. It wasn't you on that altar, but a very distorted version of you, one that wanted to be fucked silly even though what you really wanted was a good fight.

The two laughed at your comment, and you moaned in annoyance at the electricity that sapped through you at the sound of their voices. Your head fell back over the edge, and you came face to face with the more muscular one of the brothers as he lowered himself to your eye level. His eyes raked over your face, then up to your exposed neck just waiting to be bit.

"You're so cute," he mumbled, split tongue darting out again, tasting the air. Your pussy clenched as you wished for that tongue back in your throat or, even better, caressing your quivering folds below that were begging for something to fill their loneliness. The experience was new to you, as you had never wanted intimacy like this with anyone before. You had been so focused on your goals and diligently upholding your parents' rules and traditions that you never craved anyone, but especially not these two beasts.

"I'm not cute," you mewled, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you felt the sharp claws hover above your abdomen, gently stroking the skin below your navel from side to side, your core clenching even harder with pure, undiluted desire. But when the fingers slipped beneath the rim of your underwear, you moaned as you expected them to dip into the wet mess that lay just beneath, the expectation almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Oh, yeah?" the snake-man grinned, and you felt one finger press into your slit, your folds welcoming it warmly and with a shudder going through your body. You quaked in pleasure, eyes blown wide open, and the two fangs of the monster were all more prevalent as his lips split into a toothy smile. "So cute," he doubled down, pulling your arms taut until your body stretched to the last of its capabilities.

With his lips gently brushing against your forearm, you were wholly unprepared for the sharp pain as he dug his fangs deep into your skin. But the shriek quickly turned into a moan, your hips grinding against the finger probing at your entrance as more of the aphrodisiac went straight into your bloodstream. You watched the dark fluid drip off your arm, causing even more heat to spread where it flowed, and you were mercilessly whining as you couldn't move your hips nearly enough to satisfy your needs.

"Please," you snapped upwards, staring at the creature settled on top of the altar next to you, leisurely rubbing his hand along your pussy.

"There goes the begging," he reminded you, and you bit your lip to the point of hurting yourself.

Fuck, that wasn't what you wanted to say. It wasn't how you wanted to die, you never intended to let it get this far. Pathetic, pathetic, absolutely pathetic. You were a fucking warrior, you fought threats and hunted prey, you were not going to surrender to them—

"Fuck!" you gasped out loud this time as one digit slipped inside you. You felt it hook inside your pussy, slowly dragging out despite being clung to firmly by your insides. All the faster did he push it inside again, every joint that buried inside you made you arch your back and rejoice. You nearly avoided being scratched open inside, purely by how slick your pussy and his hand were by now, more fluids gushing out as he pulled his finger from you again and again.

Simultaneously, another digit curled down, fondling the heated folds until it pressed down on your clit, forcing a mewl from you. Fangs tore out of your skin, but you barely noticed as the two fingers united, taking up more space inside of you and scissoring your walls apart until you felt your pussy gaping and drooling obscenely.

"I'll not... submit," you stammered between bated breaths. "I'll not... be your plaything."

"And we wouldn't want it any other way," they chimed in unison, exchanging a satisfied glance before grinning.

"Mom always said to look out for the feisty ones."

"We just didn't think you'd come to meet us so soon."

"Or that you'd be this fun to play with."

Your whole body shuddered as both fingers were pulled out of your terribly needy hole. Your breath was almost non-existent, the lack of air only stimulating you more as you heard the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy letting go of the monster's fingers. A hand slipped beneath your head, helping you to hold it up as you watched the leaner brother lifting his pointer and middle finger to his face, split tongue lapping out to taste your slick pulling strings in the gaps while maintaining eye contact with you all throughout it.

"They're perfect," he purred as he looked up, stretching his arm towards his brother, who leaned forward to have his taste of you from his brother's fingers.

"Damn, that's sweet," he commented too on your fluids, licking them from his lips as he looked down at you in a mix of surprise and awe.

"And so pretty, too."

You felt their eyes in the same way their claws had raked over your body. Hungrily, with the intention to harm you. And yet, your hole kept gaping, needing more stimulation, wanting more. You were the pitiful prey you kept denying you were, but it seemed that in their eyes, you were so much more than that.

"Our little fighter," the one at your side murmured, stretching upwards to hover beside your face.

"Are you not even finishing what you started?" you spit, your venom not nearly as effective when your voice sounded as if you were drugged and disgruntled.

"Oh, I will, little fighter. We're going to make sure you can take us before spreading you on our cocks and make you cry out in pleasure until you call us "god". But before that, you have to be good and let us take you to our nest. Bonding will take so much time, and you are much too vulnerable out here."

"Fuck you," you grunted, trying to elbow him, but your arm barely moved.

"Keep it up," he grinned. "Wouldn't want you to give up too easily. Breaking you in is part of the fun."

"You're a fucking monster after all."

The snakes hummed thoughtfully as you were finally pulled off the table. Instead of being dragged by your arms or wrapped in their tail, however, you were slung over the bigger brother's shoulder, feeling his hand immediately settle beneath your asscheek, not so subtly poking at your pussy with his claw.

"Let me go!" you demanded weakly, your sore hands pounding pitifully into his shoulder.

"And miss out on all this fun? I don't think so," the leaner brother answered.

"Mother told us you can't go back anyway," the one carrying you added, throwing salt into the wound. They were right, but that didn't mean you'd go down so easily, even if your legs were still quivering and your head throbbing with need. "They'll kill you on sight, won't they? And then they'll return you to the altar so we can eat you."

A hand clasped around your jaw, claws digging into your cheeks as your head was lifted to face the leaner brother. "You know we prefer a different taste," he grinned, and you felt your anger rise again together with the shame of his implication. Collecting your saliva and some of the residues of the aphrodisiac, you spit them into his face, not caring whatsoever what that meant for you.

The snake-man scrunched up his face, quickly wiping it away. "Save your drool," he snarled, and you grinned victoriously despite the clasp he held your face in.

But as if on cue, a large palm flattened against your ass, and you jolted forward on the shoulder, eyes blown wide open as you gasped. You couldn't believe it as the wave of pleasure finally crashed into your rockfest resolution, your toes curling upwards and your eyes rolled back, your orgasm hitting you harder than even the slap had.

"Oh, god," you whispered breathlessly while riding the high of pleasure and shame as you felt your juices leaking even through your panties, dripping and running down the body of the other stronger brother.

"Seems like you finally get it, sacrifice," the guy in front of you noted, brushing his thumb over your lips, which opened automatically to his beckoning.

"Let's go, brother," he urged. "Seems our little fighter needs just a bit more convincing as to why they'll love being ours. I can't wait to make their belly swell with our clutch, just like Mother has always told us."

"We're lucky we found a mate so quickly," the other agreed, and you let out a defeated huff, no more words to counter them with coming to your dazed thoughts.

Their tail set into motion, scales slithering over stone, while your mind drifted off, the aphrodisiac having too much of a hold on your conscience for you to be rid of it quickly. You were going to be taken by the monsters, and if you thought you were helpless before, your body now barely felt like it belonged to you. It was as if you weren't its master anymore, but that drug and those snakes were. You could only shiver, even though the air was getting hotter the closer you three got to the volcano, wondering if you at least fulfilled your duty as a sacrifice.

And when that duty would finally end.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most p. 3 | S.B

feat. Sirius Black x Rowle!reader

SUMMARY: In an attempt to distance yourself from your brother, you inadvertently spend the afternoon with the Marauders, bringing you and Sirius even closer. Later, Rabastan extends an invitation you can't refuse.

CW: strong language, dark themes, kissing, failing love triangle, a whole lot of angst, toxic!brother, protective!Sirius, platonic!marauders, mentions of abuse, reader is traumatized and doesn’t know how to love or accept love properly (pls forgive her)

series navigation | part one | part two | part four | masterlist

You pushed past a gaggle of Ravenclaws into the library, only breathing when the door clicked securely shut behind you.

Thorfinn wouldn't be caught dead in the library. Especially since his face was still healing after Rabastan smashed it in four days prior.

The two days your brother had spent bed-ridden in the infirmary had been peaceful, quiet even, but it was short lived. He was back and surlier than ever, and you were desperate for a bit of respite.

The library was quiet, most students out enjoying the abnormally sunny day. It spilled through the stained glass windows, painting the floor and shelves watercolor, and creating delicious pockets of warmth while you walked through the aisles searching for a comfortable place to settle in.

“Y/n?” A male voice called, vaguely familiar. You turned on your heel, spotting none other than James Potter standing in the Spells section with you.

“Potter,” you said, dipping your chin in acknowledgment before turning to escape down a different aisle.

“Hey, wait!”

Shit.

James jogged after you, and you turned to face him, putting on your most disinterested scowl. “Yes?” You asked.

“Are you here to study?” He asked, glancing at the books in your arms, a few of the ones his very best friend purchased for you.

Does he know?

“No, I'm here to hunt lions,” you replied.

But he only chuckled, unperturbed by your attitude. Fucking Gryffindors. “Well, there's a pack of ‘em over here.” He nodded his head towards the back of the library. “Plus a snake. You should come, ah, hunt with us, yeah?”

“And why should I do that?” You quirked a suspicious brow.

“Because it's no fun to be alone.” He shrugged, oblivious to how hard his words struck you. “C’mon, we don't bite.”

You eyed him up and down, debating what you should do. Sure, you didn't want to be with your brother, but did that mean you wanted to be alone? You were always alone. Thorfinn made sure of it. You had no real friends that weren't hand selected by your parents, and you couldn't stand half of them.

Plus, there was a 90% chance that Sirius was there. You hadn't seen him since Hogsmeade, though you thought of him constantly, keeping his note stuffed in your pocket everywhere you went.

You longed to see him, apologize for how you treated him, how foolish you'd been. Tell him how much you wished it could be different, that it wasn't so…complicated.

But it was. Rabastan had kissed you, making his intentions crystal clear, and you had liked it. He wanted you. Sirius wanted you. And you had no idea what you should want, who you should want.

Your head pulled one way, your heart another, your soul being ripped in half.

“I know we don't know each other that well.” James said, interrupting your thoughts. “And I'm not going to push you. But, it could be fun, y’know, hanging out with nice people.”

You snorted despite yourself. He wasn't wrong.

“Lead the way, Potter,” you sighed.

His face lit up like he'd won the Quidditch Cup. “M’lady,” he said, offering you his elbow. You rolled your eyes, but looped your arm through his anyways.

Anxiety churned in your gut as he led you through the library, jabbering on about last week's Quidditch match, but you tuned him out.

Would Sirius be there? Would he be happy to see you? Angry? What would the rest of his friends think? Do they know who you are? Hate you already?

The two of you turned a corner into a cozy alcove, where several students sat around a large, round table surrounded by bookshelves.

Your eyes immediately locked onto Sirius’, who was perched on the edge of the table by the pretty, redhead girl that hangs out with Snape. His eyes widened, but he managed to school his reaction.

“Y/n!”

You turned just in time for Dorcas to crash into you, throwing her arms around your neck. You immediately exhaled in relief, leaning into her hug.

“Merlin, it's so good to see you,” she murmured, pulling back to cup your face. “Are you alright?” She whispered, and you forced a smile, nodding.

“Aren't you going to introduce us?” The redhead asked, her tone curt but not unfriendly.

“Oh! Everyone this is y/n Rowle,” Dorcas said, turning you to face the group.

You braced yourself for their negative reaction, but they only nodded, looking over you curiously.

“This is Lily Evans.” She gestured to the redhead, who gave you a warm smile. “And that's Peter and Remus.” Two boys sat to Lily's left, the smaller one waving shyly at you, while the other gave you a tight nod. “And you know my girlfriend, Marlene. And Sirius and James, of course.”

You nodded and smiled, waving at them. Sirius immediately clocked the bandages around your fingers, the bones still not quite set since you opted for the less painful treatment, and frowned.

You tried to hide them behind your books, but it was too late. You braced yourself for him to get angry, to start yelling and making threats, but his eyes only softened, laden with concern.

“Move, Padfoot,” Lily said, trying to shove Sirius off the table and shifting his attention. “Come sit by me!”

“Oh, uh, okay.” You walked over.

Sirius slid dramatically off the table and pulled the chair out for you. A giddy nervousness tingled under your skin at his proximity when you sat down, his fingers brushing against your back, his head leaned down by yours.

“Anything for you, darling,” he whispered while pushing your chair in. Before you could retort, he was walking back to his own spot between Remus and Marlene.

“So, what are you working on?” Lily asked, and that was all it took for you to welcomed with open arms. You and Lily talked for an hour about course work and other things while the boys bickered and teased in the background, Dorcas and Marlene too wrapped up in one another to pay mind to anyone else.

Sirius’ eye continually drifted back to you, assessing, but he never interrupted, or interjected. If anything, he seemed pleased that you were getting on with his friends, unbothered that he wasn't the center of your attention.

And you were surprised at how easy it was to talk with them all, how receptive they were to you and your opinions, genuinely interested in what you thought about things. James was right, it was refreshing to hang out with nice people who had no ulterior motive, nothing to gain from you.

With Thorfinn and Rabastan, all of them, really, you felt like a toy being tossed around. Theirs to play with until they got bored and cast you aside. Theirs to control, to mold. Even with Rabastan and all his charm, his tenderness, you knew he had something to gain from tying himself to you, and vice versa.

How much of it was genuine?

A chill raced down your spine at the thought and you shoved it away. You wouldn't let those thoughts ruin this afternoon for you, the first normal few hours you'd had in weeks.

You laughed at one of Peter's jokes, so loudly that you surprised yourself. A big laugh that made your head tip back on your shoulders, tears well in your eyes.

Merlin, when was the last time you laughed like that?

When you wiped the tear tracks away, giggling like an idiot, you noticed Sirius was smiling back at you, affection shining like stars in his eyes.

Your breath seized in your chest, butterflies rioting in your stomach. No one had ever looked at you like that before. Like your joy was their joy, and it turned your heart inside out.

A few more hours passed, everyone shifting around the table periodically until you ended up between Remus and Sirius, helping Remus decipher a text from his Magic History course.

Sirius was warm at your side, his spiced cologne tempting you to lean closer, but you resisted.

Watching the couples being openly affectionate, Lily stroking James hair while he talked, Marlene and Dorcas holding hands while they read, it made your chest ache. You wanted that, the easy affection, the simple gestures, and carefree vulnerability.

And when you imagined doing that with someone, holding hands, kisses on cheeks, mindless touches, it wasn't Rabastan you saw, but the boy sitting beside you, his long black hair hanging in his eyes while he worked on an essay.

How badly you wanted to tuck the hair behind his ear, place a kiss on his cheekbone before pulling away. Maybe his hand would rest on your thigh, knees knocked together. Or maybe he'd press a kiss to your inner wrist, a quiet ‘thank you’…

“Hey, y/n, what happened to your hand?” Peter asked, jarring you from your daydreaming, and the table fell silent.

“Oh, uh—”

Sirius’ eyes trained on the side of your face, his quill hovering over the parchment.

“I fell in the common room, caught myself wrong,” you said, shrugging a shoulder.

“And Pomfry couldn't just fix it?” Marlene asked, ignoring a warning look from Dorcas.

“No, uh, the damage was too severe for a spell, and I wasn't about to take Skelegrow for a few fingers,” you answered.

James grimaced. “How bad could a fall be?”

A hand landed on your knee, heavy and warm. Sirius.

“Drop it,” Sirius warned, glaring daggers at his friends, a stark contrast to the gentle way he was touching you.

They all went wide eyed and quickly turned back to whatever they were working on. Dorcas’ eyes flicked back and forth between the two of you, the corner of her mouth tugging upwards.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him and he squeezed your knee before releasing you, eyes dropping back down at his work.

“I'm starving. Are we ready for dinner?” Lily asked a few minutes later, clapping her book shut.

“Fuck yes,” James, Peter, and Remus said in unison.

Everyone shifted to get up, collecting their things and shoving them in bags, wondering aloud what would be served in the Great Hall.

“You joining?” Lily asked, stopping beside your chair.

“Oh, uh—” you glanced at Sirius, who was shelving one of his books on the other side of the table. “My brother is expecting me, but thank you,” you replied, hoping she knew you were being sincere.

It was actually Rabastan that was expecting you. He’d left a note on your bedside table asking that you eat with him around 7 pm. You hadn't seen him since he escorted you back to your room that day, but it wasn't uncommon for him and some of the others to disappear for days at a time, following orders you'd rather not think on lest you lose your lunch.

This entire time, you'd been trying to convince yourself that Rab was the logical, safe pick, but there was nothing normal or safe about that world. His world. The world that Sirius abandoned.

“Well, you're always welcome.” Lily squeezed your shoulder, following the others out.

“Pads, you coming?” James asked, pausing at the door. Sirius was still hovering by the bookcase, searching for something.

“I'll catch up,” he said, waving James away.

You almost laughed. For all his charm and smarts, Sirius was not great a subtlety.

But James didn't comment, winking at you before his girlfriend dragged him out by the collar. Soon, they were out of ear shock, and a reverberating silence settled over the alcove.

“Did you…did you tell them about us?” You asked, unable to bear the quiet.

“No, I didn't,” he said, shelving his book.

“Then why did they just…accept it?”

“Accept you, you mean?” He asked, turning to look at you. “James is still bent out of shape about the other day in Hogsmeade. He gets all worked up when he sees your brother in hall. And Remus and Peter don't care about your House, blood, or lineage.”

You mulled that over, trying to decipher what the catch was. What their motive could be.

It was like Sirius could see the gears turning in your mind. “Doll, they're just nice people. I know we aren't used to it, it took me ages to stop waiting for the metaphorical shoe to drop. But they really—they're just good mates, is all.”

“S’weird,” you mumbled, and he chuckled.

“It's normal, love. How we grew up…it's a far cry from normal. Or healthy.” He perched on the edge of the table beside you. “They're half the reason I left. I finally could see what else was out there.”

Silence fell between you, and you folded your hands in your lap, trying to hide your bandages. But of course, he noticed.

“I'll only ask once,” he said, lifting your chin so you'd look at him. His expression was deeply serious, jaw tight with tension. “Did Thorfinn break your fingers?”

You clamped your mouth shut, refusing to answer, but you couldn't stop the tears that welled in your eyes.

Evidently, that was all the confirmation he needed.

He eased off the table, lowering himself to his knees in front of your chair. “Does it hurt?” He asked, taking your hand in his and inspecting the bandages.

“Not anymore,” you sniffled, watching as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hands, your knuckles, your palm. Like his lips alone could heal you.

“I'm so sorry, love,” he murmured, meeting your eyes. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Not unless you have some spell that can make me disappear,” you sighed.

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it, something mischievous sparking in his eyes. “Actually…come with me.” He tugged you up out of your chair, piling your books into your arms before steering you out of the alcove.

“Sirius, what are we—”

“You!” Sirius barked at a random Gryffindor boy. “I’ll give you ten galleons for your robes.”

“Sirius,” you hissed.

“Ten? Deal.” The student quickly shirked his robes and tie and tossed them to Sirius in exchange for a handful of coins. Then Sirius dragged you into an empty aisle and handed you the robes.

“What the fuck are we doing?” You asked, taking the robes from him.

“Going back to my dorm,” he replied, like it was obvious.

“That's very presumptuous of you,” you argued, fighting a smile.

“Not for that, unless—”

“Sirius.”

“Right, so James has something that might help if you ever need to make a quick getaway. I'll show you when we get there.”

You sighed. Leave it to the prank-masters of Hogwarts to have some weird, probably forbidden artifact. “Fine.” You tugged off your Slytherin robes, heat climbing up your neck at the way he was watching you with open appreciation. You pulled on the Gryffindor ones, a bit oversized, but fitting well enough to pass, and shoved your Slytherin ones into your bag.

Sirius smiled, his hands coming up to straighten your tie. “I like seeing you in my colors,” he hummed, shifting his weight to press you against the bookshelves.

“Down, boy,” you chastised half-heartedly, pushing against his chest. If only you were one of those regular couples, and you could snog anywhere and everywhere. No hiding, no sneaking around, no secrets.

“Just one? Please, baby?” He asked, the tip of his nose grazing your cheek.

You smiled, heat spreading under your skin, and pecked the corner of his mouth. “Lead the way, Padfoot.”

He grinned. “Padfoot? Only my friends call me that.”

“Aren't we friends now?” You teased, swiping your lipstick from his cheek with your thumb. “Or are we still pretending to hate each other?” You could hardly believe the words were coming out of your mouth, but it felt so good to be honest, to be real. You were so tired of the song and dance.

With Sirius, you could be yourself. You always could, it's why you felt comfortable pushing his buttons so much.

Deep down, you knew he was safe. It was caring for him that was risky.

“I'll be your lap dog if that's what you want.” He leaned into your touch, his hands finding your hips through the layers of fabric.

“Guard dog, more like,” you said, baring your teeth in a fake snarl, a poor imitation of the spine-chilling one he gave Thorfinn.

He chuckled, the sound low and borderline sinful. “Whatever you need, love.”

“Take me to your dorm,” you said, nudging him backwards.

His brows lifted. “For…”

“For whatever illegal thing you and your mates are harboring.” You shook your head, smiling, and Sirius smiled back at you, a soft, sincere thing.

“I think I've seen you smile more today than the entire time I've known you,” he said, making you blush. “Now c’mon, think you can try to act like a Gryffindor?”

"Obnoxious and self-obsessed? Think I can manage."

Sirius snorted a laugh, and lead the way. You traversed the halls together without rousing suspicion, and Sirius led you into his House’s common room.

You scrunched your nose at the decor. “So garrish,” you ribbed, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“You literally live in a dungeon,” he argued, and you burst out laughing.

He led you up the stairs and into his dorm he shared with others. It was very burgundy and lightly cluttered, smelling distinctly of mens cologne and chocolate. Even after that short time knowing them, you could immediately tell whose bed was whose.

James had his broom resting by the headboard. Remus had a pile of books and an open chocolate bar on the side table. Peters was the messiest. And Sirius’ had a leather jacket hanging on the bedframe.

He started rummaging through James’ trunk, and you sat on the edge of Sirius’ bed, brushing your fingers over his quilt.

“There you are,” he said triumphantly, withdrawing what had to be the ugliest brown cloak you'd ever seen.

“And what on earth is that?” You asked.

With a flourish, Sirius wrapped it around himself—and vanished. You gasped, jumping off the bed.

“Sirius?” You asked, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Boo.”

You yelped, whirling around to find Sirius' head floating behind you, snickering at your response. He shrugged the rest of the cloak off, becoming visible once again.

“It’s an invisibility cloak. Very handy for quick escapes and sneaking around.” He waggled his eyebrows, setting it on the bed.

You stared at him in awe. “And James won't mind if I…?”

“Not at all. I'll square it away with him tonight.” Sirius reached for your hands, drawing you back towards him. “Your safety is the most important thing, okay? I need you to prioritize that above anything else.”

You nodded, his words bringing tears to your eyes.

“You could take that and disappear forever and I wouldn't blame you for a second,” he murmured.

“Why do you care so much?” You asked despite knowing it wasn't a fair question, nor one with a clear answer.

Sirius was quiet for a moment, looking down at your joined hands. “I--I saw you, y’know, ten years ago when my father kicked Kreature during that dinner? You threw a massive fit. Thorfinn laughed at you for getting so upset, so you put half the damned shaker of salt in his pudding when you thought no one was looking.”

You blinked at him, the memory filtering back, shocked that he had noticed you at all that day. Remembered it after all those years.

“And I saw when you helped a servant girl clean up a mess of spilled champagne. When you buried that dead bird that felt into the fountain in fifth year. Tried to scare me off when you thought your brother would pummel me. Let him take you away in Hogsmeade so none of us got hurt.” His fingers rubbed over your knuckles, grounding you both.

“I see you, y/n, and you're not like them. You aren't vicious, or cruel, or hateful. I just wanted to help you and I—” his voice fractured, laden with emotion. “I didn't expect…” he trailed off, meeting your eyes. “I didn't expect this.” He squeezed your hands, the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth as your heart swelled, threatening to carry you away like a great, big balloon.

“You have helped me,” you said, releasing his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. “I know you want me to worry about my safety—and I am. But Sirius, you—I feel like myself again because of you. Like I’m somebody, and not just—someones.”

His hand came up to caress your cheek, drawing you closer. “You’re everything.”

You closed the remaining inch between you, tugging him forward by his robes and crashing your mouth his. He groaned low in his throat, tongue sweeping across your lower lip in a request for more. You parted for him, battling his tongue for the first taste.

Suddenly, he lifted you into the air, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, and he laid you down on the bed, his weight settling between your legs, never once breaking the fevered kiss. You melted into the mattress, clinging to him as a wave of desperation seized you.

Suddenly, his words from the other day made sense. You were running out of time.

You didn't know what you wanted with Rab, or for your future, but you knew you weren't ready to let go of Sirius. To extinguish whatever connection burned between you.

But the path forward was murky, rife with threats. We're you willing to drag him back into the world he'd escaped from? To put him in danger once again?

The air constricted in your lungs, your muscles coiling with panic, and Sirius pulled back.

“Hey, hey.” Sirius sat up with you and caressed your face, catching the tears you didn't realize were falling. “What’s going on?”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted.

Sirius stiffened. “Do you actually…care about him?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t tell. I can’t tell if I actually do, or if I’m just supposed to. If it’s me, or them,” you answered honestly, and you felt him pull away, eyes flashing with anger.

“He's a cunt, y/n,” Sirius said, blunt as a spoon. “And he’s lying to you. He doesn’t care about you, he only cares about the potential pure-blooded heirs you can give him.”

You gasped at him, shocked by his crass words.

“M’sorry, doll. That's just the truth. The Lestrange’s are awful, the whole bloody lot of them are.”

“I don't want to talk about this,” you muttered, retreating back behind your walls, hurt by his cold response to your honesty.

Sirius sighed, guilt streaking across his face. “I know, I know. C’mere.” He opened his arms to you, and you were powerless to resist the temptation. “We don't have to talk about anything. I just want you to feel safe, okay?”

“Even if it isn't with you?” you grumbled, pettiness letting your tendencies towards hate seep through.

“Even if it isn't with me,” he replied without hesitation, and it stunned you silent, banishing the darkness spreading in your mind. “You could go get some little cottage in London and never see me again, so long as you were away from them.” He nuzzled into your hair, taking a deep breath. “I could live with that,” he said, though his voice twinged with sadness.

No one has ever put your needs before their own. You've always been a bargaining chip, not a priority. Not something to be loved, but bartered. Used.

You sat up on your elbow, studying his face. “You mean that? I don't have to…choose you?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Of course not. You can choose whatever you want.”

“But we—”

“Darling, I would love if there could be a ‘we’,” he admitted, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. “But you are under no obligation to chose me because we’ve slept together, or because you didn't chose Rabastan. Your life is your own.”

You shook your head, tears burning behind your eyes again. “I don't think it is.”

He held you a little tighter. “It is. You can leave, like I did. I can talk to James—”

“Sirius—”

“I know you're afraid, so was I. And I know Thorfinn has made you feel helpless, but you're not, love. You're strong as hell—”

You shook your head. “You don't understand, Sirius.”

“What don't I understand? I grew up in it too! I was crushed under their heel too! But I left. And so can you.”

“You aren't listening!” You cried, jumping out of his bed, and he snapped his mouth shut, teeth grinding together. “I can't just leave.”

He climbed out bed, reaching for you. “But I—”

“Sirius, you're a man!” You shouted, and he staggered back. “You’ve always had more agency than I have. I was passed from my father, to Thorfinn, to Rabastan like a cigar. They each took a little bit more of me every time. There's nothing fucking left! I have nothing left!”

“Love—”

You angrily wiped at your cheeks, turning away from him. “Don’t,” you hissed when his hands fell onto your hips.

“You know that’s not true.” He murmured against you ear. “You’re so much more than a fucking pawn for them—”

“I need to go,” you said, jerking yourself out of his hold and tugging the Gryffindor robes over your head.

“No, baby, please don’t leave—” Sirius followed you towards the door. He caught your wrist, pushing a bundle of fabric into your hand: the invisibility cloak. “At least take the cloak, please.”

You almost refused, but rationality won over your emotions. You threw it over yourself, casting Sirius’ heartbroken face in an obscured haze, and you slipped out the door, throwing it shut behind you.

The walk to your dorm was a blur of tears, everything muffled and fuzzy through the cloak. As soon as you got back to your room, you shoved it to the bottom of your trunk and collapsed into bed, a mess of hiccuping sobs.

The clock tower rang seven bells, but you just pulled your pillow over your head, determined to rot in the safety of your bed until the castle crumbled around you.

“Darling,” a gentle voice cooed in your ear, cool fingers stroking your cheek.

You jerked awake, your dorm dimly lit with candles, moonlight spilling over your quilt. Rabastan was crouched beside your bed, heavy brow knit with concern. “Rab?” You croaked, throat dry from crying. Merlin, you must look like a wreck. Guilt sat like a bludger in your stomach, tugging you down, down…

“Are you feeling alright, love? I was worried when you didn’t come to dinner,” he said, speaking so softly, like you might startle.

"Sorry for missing dinner," you mumbled, unable to meet his eye.

"No harm done," he soothed. “Though, Thorfinn was incorrigible. Going table to table, demanding to know if anyone has seen you, throwing dishes, yelling at ghosts and portraits.” Rabastan chuckled at the cringing face you pulled. “He got so out of hand at the Gryffindor table that Potter got in his face—”

“What?” You asked, interrupting him. “Why would he do that?”

Rabastan shrugged. “You know Gryffindor’s, always sticking their noses where it doesn't belong. Whinging about justice or something. My cousin talked some sense into him before Thor beat him to a pulp, though.”

“Sirius?” You asked, feigning surprise. What the hell were they thinking?

Rabastan nodded. “Seems he hasn't lost all of his sense.”

“Where's my brother now?” You asked, anxiety coiling in your cut.

“Outside the door, I imagine.” Rab caught the nervous twitch of your mouth and frowned. “Don't worry about him, love. It'll all be sorted out soon.”

Soon. Your freedom, vanishing like sand through an hour glass.

“Do I need to take you to the infirmary again?” He asked, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. “You've gone pale.”

“Sorry, no, I—it’s just a headache,” you whispered, pulling the duvet up to your chin.

“Fragile thing,” he hummed, smoothing your bedraggled hair. “First your hand, now this. What am I going to do with you?” There was no malice in his voice, but it still stung. You were supposed to be perfect, but instead you were a mess. A shell of yourself.

“I’ll be better,” you said automatically, a phrase you often used to placate your brother. Tears were collecting along your lower lashes.

He shushed you. “None of that. It's alright to be fragile, little doe.”

“I just—I think I need a good nights rest,” you said, taking his big hand and squeezing it. “But thank you for coming to check on me.”

He brushed a kiss to your knuckles. “Of course. But, before I go—” your heart tripped over itself “—my parents are hosting a dinner this weekend, and your family has been invited as guests of honor.”

You almost laughed at the image of your father receiving that news. He'll be smug for a year.

“And I’d like for you to attend as my date,” he finished, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“I'd love to,” you whisper, nausea churning in your stomach.

Rabastan beamed, kissing your knuckles again. “I'm glad to hear it. Now, get some rest, my love. And I'll see you at the train station Saturday morning.”

“Goodnight, Rab,” you murmured, lowering your quilt so he could press a kiss to your temple.

“Goodnight, darling.” He blew out the candle by your bed and slipped out of the room. You heard someone shuffle out of his way, muttering an apology.

Thorfinn. You would cringe if you weren't about to faint.

You needed to figure out what the hell your were doing, and you had less than 48 hours to do it.

taglist: @lovelykat001, @carmenschemtrails, @lolalleins, @fangirl-swagg, @batboysanonymous, @watchmerora, @iheartnostalgia, @simars3, @elizabethblood9

[mahalachives]

Thank you for writing my request for acotar fics. Really if I'm going to be honest I didn't expect you to write it so quickly. But wowww. Again thank you and would you like consider to write a azriel and human mate reader where she has like tablet as well as a telephone and earphones and she explains a technology to inner circle.

Title: Tech Support: Velaris Edition

pairing: azriel x human!mate reader

Hope you enjoy!

The first time Azriel saw you talking to yourself, he thought you were mad.

The second time, when you told him you were “on a call,” he genuinely started to worry about your sanity.

By the third time, you had pulled out what you called a tablet, and suddenly, the entire Inner Circle got involved.

And so here you were, seated in the House of Wind, facing a very skeptical group of Fae while Azriel stood protectively beside you, arms crossed but utterly amused.

You did not expect absolute chaos.

It started when you pulled out your phone.

“This,” you said, holding it up like it was the Cauldron itself, “is a cell phone.”

The room stared at the tiny glowing rectangle in your hands like it was a live bomb.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, narrowed his eyes. “It’s…glowing.”

“Yes.”

Cassian unsheathed a dagger. “Kill it.”

“CASSIAN, NO—”

Azriel, standing protectively beside you, let out a suffering sigh as you shoved Cassian’s arm down. “It’s not alive, you battle-obsessed maniac.”

“Are you sure?” Amren drawled, unimpressed. “Because that thing hummed.”

“It vibrated—it’s a notification!” You waved your hand. “It’s how I get messages!”

Rhys leaned forward, smirking. “So, humans store voices in tiny glowing bricks now?”

“… I hate how accurate that sounds.”

Nesta arched a brow. “So it’s like a magical book?”

“No, it’s better.” You clicked on a video, and the screen moved.

Cassian screamed.

Nesta dropped her tea.

Amren nearly fell out of her chair.

Feyre’s jaw hit the floor.

Rhysand, High Lord of Velaris, the most powerful High Fae in existence, flinched.

Mor gasped dramatically. “IT’S POSSESSED.”

Azriel—your lovely, brooding mate—only sighed deeper, rubbing his temples like this was the worst day of his life.

“IT’S JUST A VIDEO,” you shouted over their horrified screams.

“IT’S A TRAPPED SOUL,” Cassian accused, pointing a trembling finger at the phone.

“IT’S NOT—”

Nesta hissed at the screen.

Feyre, looking way too concerned, whispered to Rhys, “Should we… should we free it?”

“IT’S NOT TRAPPED,” you nearly shrieked.

Azriel put a calming hand on your shoulder. It did nothing.

“This is normal for humans,” he explained, attempting damage control.

Mor, still clutching her chest like she had seen a ghost, muttered, “Humans are terrifying.”

You groaned. “Okay, forget the phone. Let’s move on to the tablet.”

More skeptical looks.

You turned it on, and Rhys immediately backed up.

“I hate this,” he muttered.

Cassian squinted. “Why is it so big?”

“It’s just a bigger version of my phone!”

Nesta looked at the screen, unimpressed. “Does it also hold souls hostage?”

“…It’s literally just for books, movies, and drawing.” You clicked a random sketching app and made a quick doodle.

Silence.

Then—

Cassian leaned in. “You—you’re making magic symbols—”

“I AM DRAWING.”

“WITH LIGHT,” Feyre gasped.

“WITH MY FINGER.”

Rhys looked between you and Azriel. “You mated with a sorceress?”

Azriel sighed even harder. “She’s not a sorceress.”

“She controls light magic,” Mor insisted.

“Oh my god.”

Nesta pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought nothing could be dumber than Cassian.”

Cassian gasped, clutching his chest. “Nesta, how could you?”

“Okay,” you groaned. “Forget the tablet—here, let’s try earphones.” You plugged them in and played music. “Put this in your ear.”

Mor eagerly took one.

The second the bass hit, her eyes flew open.

“WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?”

She grabbed Cassian’s arm. “DO YOU HEAR THAT? IT’S IN MY HEAD—”

Cassian yanked it away like it was a venomous snake. “GET IT OUT—IT’S CURSING HER—”

Azriel looked like he wanted to jump out the nearest window.

Rhysand, ever dramatic, massaged his temples. “Mother above, why did I let her do this?”

Nesta, still sipping her tea, shrugged. “I think we should let them suffer.”

Cassian—who had immediately shoved both earphones into his ears—jumped to his feet.

“THIS,” he declared, “IS THE GREATEST THING HUMANS HAVE EVER CREATED.”

You smirked. “Told you.”

Cassian whipped around to Rhys. “BRO, WE NEED THIS AT RITA’S.”

“No."

“PLEASE.”

“Absolutely not.”

Cassian was already running. “I’M STEALING THIS—”

Azriel extended a foot, expertly tripping him.

Cassian ate the floor.

Azriel plucked your phone from his unconscious hand and handed it back to you.

You smiled up at your mate. “Thanks, love.”

Azriel sighed. “You’re never showing them the internet.”

[cybergoth1]

the evil eye | dick grayson x fem!yandere reader

synopsis: ❛❛detective (and vigilant by night) dick grayson turns to you as a last resort to solve a case involving a new serial killer terrorizing blüdhaven. after years paying for your crimes in the depths of arkham asylum, the last thing you expected was the police showing up at your door, desperate for your help. even more surprising is the overwhelming, unsettling and obsessive pull you start to feel toward him as you two work side by side❞.

warnings/tags: 18+, major dark themes, fem!reader, yandere tendencies, yandere!reader, reader's a ex criminal, ex serial killer, reader is the hannibal to dick's will graham. detective dick grayson is a warning. sexual content. mentions of killing, mentions of psychopathy and narcissism. mentions of time in arkham. gaslighting. reader literally killed people, be aware. inspired by hannibal and silence of the lambs. obsessive behavior. stalker!reader. batfamily hates you.

— ❛❛THE EVIL EYE'S CONTENT:

PROLOGUE: but you belong to me.

CHAPTER 01: you set my soul alight.

CHAPTER 02: she ate my heart and then she eat my brain.

UNLIKE MOST OF your fellow prisoners, you’d never actually been involved in a mass breakout. You’d usually overhear their elaborate escape plans over the awful prison food, nodding with a bored expression. Then, you’d simply be escorted back to your cell, spending the rest of your free time before lights out reading a dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice. You vaguely remembered when Harley Quinn’s voice suddenly grew unbearably loud, and the tempers of the other prisoners began flaring far beyond their usual levels. The unbearable noise seemed to slither through your brain like a slippery snake, making you roll your eyes. You saw them as little monkeys — unpolished and uneducated — acting impulsively with the few brain cells they had left in their heads. Good thing they don’t like you either. Most of them just saw you as a snobby bitch, looking down on them as if you weren’t just another miserable soul trapped in the abuses and horrors of Arkham Asylum.

“Hey, is it true that you killed a guy just because he stepped on your foot on the subway?” you heard Harley’s annoying voice again, this time interrupting your beloved sunbath. You sighed loudly and made the foolish decision to glance at her curious figure.

"That's fucking stupid" you said, closing your eyes again to feel the sun on your cold skin.

"Yes! That's what I told Ivy," she said cheerfully, her high pitched voice growing louder as she come closer to your body. You felt a persistent, almost irrational urge to strike her "you never killed for shallow reasons!" this makes you open your eyes and examine her closely. How could she possibly understand your motivations? Sometimes it was hard for you to wrapped your head around it. Harley felt your questioning gaze and shrugged.

"Oh, come on, I'm a psychiatrist. I have a Phd, for godsake".

"Yeah, I know".

"You always choose victims who offend your morals and your personal sense of justice. We should totally be friends".

You sigh loudly again. You wouldn’t call them victims — but none of it mattered anymore. Harley keeps rambling about your personality traits and psychological evaluations, like a true psychiatrist would, while you let your mind wander, staring at the other prisoners. They all look as beaten down as you did. You could still feel your busted lips aching after a guard punched you in the face for not taking your meds — you run your tongue over the wound, savoring the metallic taste.

"Hey, Quinn?"

"Hm?"

“When we’re out of here, look me up. We could go out for a drink.”

Twelve years, eight months, and twenty days. That's the total time you spent locked up, basically rooting, in Arkham Asylum since your pre-trial detention, watching the sun rise through a small square window while trying not to kill your annoying cellmates by suffocating them with pillows and dirty sheets. The guards were well aware of your tendencies and unpredictable behavior, making sure to threaten you at every possible moment.

"I killed people for less, you know that, right?" that was always enough to earn you a new torture session at the hands of the guards, you usually just call them dogs, and sometimes even the nurses when they were having a bad day. But, in the end, you always considered yourself strong, capable, and with an impenetrable mind. And you were, in fact, all of that and more — so much more that you endured the horrors of that place for over a decade as if it were a walk in the park. A long, agonizing, shitty walk in the park. And now you’re walking as a free woman after twelve years, feeling the wind on your face while clenching the cheap cigarette between your teeth. Almost free, at least. You're serving the rest of your sentence in a parole due to your impressive good behaviour.

Under certain negotiation and strict conditions, you were released two weeks ago, seizing the opportunity to finally disappear into anonymity in another city — unfortunately still close to Arkham. You had to settle for Blüdhaven during the legal arrangement, since you couldn’t leave New Jersey during your parole and you’d rather eat your own feet than spending another day in Gotham. You got yourself a small apartment in a horrible neighborhood, cheap enough to cover the rent with your new part-time job as a cashier. No one there cared enough to check your criminal record or ask why you always had to be home early, or why you occasionally had to report to the police station just to confirm you hadn’t left the state. That's the life.

“To new beginnings,” you said quietly, raising your glass to the empty living room before immediately downing the whiskey. It taste like dog piss — better than anything you had in prision.

The first four months of your newfound freedom were tainted by the bitter taste of mediocrity and a gnawing sense of inferiority every time your eyes fell on the crumbling walls of your apartment or the stack of papers from your public defender, detailing the suffocating limitations of your parole. The justice system had reduced you to a chained dog —muzzled, restrained, and stripped of dignity.

But you were destined for greatness — you felt it every time you looked in the mirror, every time you saw your own perfection. You were intelligent, strategic, and able to perceive what others could not. Those fortunate enough to be part of your life should be grateful for your words, your brilliant ideas, and the sheer privilege of your presence.

Thanks to your sharp intellect and keen observation, it didn’t take long for you to identify the patterns in your part-time job. Your boss, the supermarket manager, was a disgusting man who took pleasure in belittling his employees, particularly the young women. He exploited his position to satisfy his vile desires, acting as a reprehensible predator. Throughout your shift, you spent much of your time thinking of ways to rid the world of his vile presence. You believed you would be doing everyone a favor, even if they couldn’t understand it — few had the courage or capacity to do what was necessary for the greater good. That's why you existed. You were the necessary evil.

But since you needed the money, you chose a more effective approach than simply eliminating him. You manipulated him, exploiting his own immorality to gain what you desired — more perks and less work. You allowed him to believe that one day, if he keeps helping you out, you would let him take you to a cheap motel, or his car, and fuck you like a brainless fleshlight, just the way he wanted.

You kept him on edge, making him believe he was in control while portraying yourself as a vulnerable girl who needed an older man to take care of her — both emotionally and physically. You told countless lies, fabricating an abusive ex and a negligent father, allowing him to revel in his foolish fantasy of being needed by you — while he was nothing but a fun game to play. Now that you had your boss on a leash, desperate for you, he stopped bothering the other girls, too busy looking at your ass and tits every time you passed in front of him. You made a point to wear tighter pants and unbutton a few extra buttons on your uniform.

That's the necessary evil you belived so much.

Unfortunately, your peace of mind was short-lived. Just as you were beginning to earn enough money to continue your life in a less humiliating way, a knock at your door ushered in a reality you would have preferred to avoid. You rose from the couch, the cigarette still lit and clamped between your lips.

“I didn’t order anything,” you said, looking at the five cops crowded at your door. Two of them weren’t in uniform, only the large, shiny badges identifying them as part of the Blüdhaven Police Department. The only woman in the group looked at you with a blank expression, calling you by your last name before taking a step closer.

"I'm detective Montoya, this is my partner detective Grayson" she said pointing to the tall figure on her left side. When you finally looked at her partner, you felt the cigarette between your lips become flat under your force as you clenched your teeth tighter, struggling to suppress a sicking smile. Those were the bluest eyes you had ever seen, watching you warily, his black hair falling gracefully over his forehead. He stood behind Montoya, carefully analyzing your posture and movements. Smart, but you were smarter.

Montoya mentioned something about the police and FBI wanting to talk to you. You were too consumed by the overwhelming, nauseating feeling rising within you as you stared at the stunning man in front of you — it’s happening again. You fought to suppress a wild smirk, your pupils dilating as shivers ran up your spine. He looked back at you with those beautiful eyes, like a piece of the sky or even the ocean.

You already knew what to do.

“I guess one talk won’t hurt,” you said, then opened the door for them.

get in the mood: I. monster, II. bad romance, III. judas, IV. toxic, V. supermassive black hole, VI. teeth, VII. criminal, VIII. radar, IX. gimme more.

author's note: well, reader is fucking insane, but she's slaying ok. please let me know if you want to join the taglist.

[ladyempty]

"It's a beautiful night, and you even more so, My Lady"

° | !English is not my first language! ° |pairing: Yan!Daemon Targaryen x Lady!Reader ° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life.

Power was Daemon's greatest motivation for living. The growing desire for more, eager to have more power, more influence, the pulsing, anesthetic adrenaline that clouded his mind making him act recklessly. Always living by emotion, almost never by reason.

Consequently, the Iron Throne and her parental rights were at the top of her list. Above anyone. It just felt right, he had helped Viserys rise to power, partly because he loved his brother, and partly because he liked being so close to the throne as Viserys' unofficial heir.

Daemon thought for years that having the throne for himself would be the greatest happiness he could achieve.

His teenage niece was key to his personal achievement. Of course, he thought Rhaenyra was beautiful, witty, passionate and fun. In addition to the burning desire that they both had along with the passion.

But nothing prepared him for the overwhelming, knockout feeling that would hit him with the speed of an arrow when he met you.

The moment the bright purple eyes of malice and mockery landed on his majestic figure, At the banquet organized to celebrate his niece's wedding, a burning fire rose through his body, infiltrating his bowels until it settled in his heart.

Daemon was not religious, he just believed, without much faith, in the Valerian gods. But upon seeing you, he was sure that a higher being sculpted you for his attention and temptation. Made for your eyes to analyze and admire.

From one minute to the next, the throne was a distant thought and Rhaenyra was just a momentary feeling, even superficial compared to what he felt so quickly and overwhelmingly for you.

He wanted you. Now. This instant. And Daemon had never been so happy and relieved to have gotten rid of his first wife as at that moment.

Yes, the first, because you would be the second.

The rogue Prince didn't like the color green, he abhorred the color with a fervent hatred, largely because of Otto, But he found the soft green dress you were wearing at the moment very pleasant. But a blood red dress would be even better.

His cunning eyes were fixed on you without any shame or shame. So intense and fun that he seems to see through your dress, undressing you in his thoughts far beyond simple clothes, he wanted to see beyond your soul.

And when Daemon Targaryen wanted something. He conquered. And not even his father's half-closed gaze could stop him, it just made him open a feline, predatory smile on his thin lips, a glimpse of his white teeth.

That same night, at that same banquet, Daemon decided to start pulling strings. As soon as the bride and groom's dance ended and the lords and ladies were able to gather in the center of the room to dance, Daemon was fast, moving carefully through the crowd of people, his eyes fixed on you as his calloused hand quickly snaked around your waist, pulling you close, almost against his chest, and smiled mockingly at the other lord. Saving the image of his face for a little visit later.

"Sorry, but I spotted it first." Daemon quickly pulled you away from the man, and didn't pay attention to any protests you might have while helping your body to dance.

After that, it didn't take long for the man's invasive procession.

The prince's intimidating presence was constant, almost a cunning shadow moving carefully until he found you, attracted like a magnet, starting conversations that were always more intimate than they should be, always deeper and with jokes and manners that were far from gentlemanly. Of course he had already investigated everything he could about you, but he liked it when you told him. His sweet voice softly entering your ears.

After the initial step, they saw the gifts, countless gifts with the intention of gaining favor and marking a territory that was no longer public. The countless red and black dresses,Valyrian steel pendants with heavy ruby stones, earrings and bracelets. All to mark you as a dragon and no longer a sheep. Just tell him what you want and he will gladly give it to you. And you can't ignore or reject their gifts.

The third step was to try to instill a certain fascination in you with ancient valyria. He will ascend to the heavens together with you holding tightly to his breastplate the moment he presented Caraxes to you. He would spend long hours talking about his victories and the superintendent of the Targaryens, after all they were closer to men than to the Gods. And would definitely smile broadly if you showed any interest. If you didn't seem intrigued or even upset, well, that's funny... Do you think you have choices?

Daemon is beyond possessive and jealous. This man is completely insane and has no hesitation in seriously harming or killing anyone he deems a threat. You are his. Why doesn't this get into other people's heads?

He doesn't want to lose you. Not that Daemon Targaryen thinks he can be replaced, but you know, they tried to attract or divert you from your path. And he won't allow it.

He wants you to trust him. Depending on him. He wants you to give yourself body and soul just to him.

And the wedding didn't take long to arrive. Don't you want to marry him? This is a shame because you will be his wife, have his heirs and be touched and admired only by his hands.

You should have already learned. You have no choice.

[ditzybat]

nothing in my head except for thoughts of bruce and constantine co-parenting billy.

like it could very well be platonic co parents bruce and john, but i think it could be a very tense pining situation - but doesn’t matter, however you interpret it just imagine how funny the dynamics would be

john: well i saw him first

bruce drafting up adoption papers: too bad

—

john: and if you trace this rune here you can summon trigon, although raven will get her knickers in a twist over it

bruce: no summoning powerful demon lords in the manor

billy: but bruceeeeee

—

billy: dad

bruce and john: yes? [glaring at eachother appalled that the other thinks they have the right to think of themselves of billy’s father]

billy totally doing this on purpose with a shit eating grin: dad?

—

teacher: so are you little billy’s father?

bruce and john simultaneously: yes

teacher: oh! just know we are a very accepting community and find your relationship heartwarming! now if you would head this way i believe billy drew a wonderful portrait of your massive families mr. wayne’s

bruce snaking a hand around john’s waist, grinding his teeth: of course, shall we dear?

john pinching bruce so hard he’s sure it draws blood: yes anything you say love

billy: aw man there goes my two christmases… :(

—

billy: this is why i like dad’s better, at least he lets me summon supernatural kings from other dimensions

bruce in tears: you don’t mean that

—

bruce: i’m not letting you keep a tiger at the manor

john: don’t be ass, let the boy have his talking tiger

bruce: oh well i don’t think you have a say in this mr. ‘soul tax evader’

john: oh fuck off you furry bat

billy: god, if you’re there, i really don’t wanna see them make out in front of me

—

damian and billy playing a board game while gossiping:

billy: my dad and your dad wanna smash, don’t they?

damian sighing: unfortunately constantine’s… rugged look has enamored my father

billy:…

damian: …

billy: ten bucks says they ‘consummate’ their marriage by the end of the month

damian: hm, twenty dollars that by the end of this week they’ve had preformed coitus

—

billy: i miss when you guys were at each others throats, no one wants to see you guys grope each other at breakfast

dick: i think it’s sweet

jason: they defiled the library, definitely not sweet dickhead, it’s practically child abuse to watch them basically on top of each other

—

idk i think it’s a neat au, even if there’s no canon whatsoever to make this even sort of plausible in the slightest.

[kashverse]

kunafamily lore masterlist ☆ a good place to start reading if you want to fill in some lore gaps! 

competition is important. it builds character. it fosters ambition. it fuels the soul with the sweet, unrelenting drive to win. and for the sukuna household, competition took the form of a daily war—a battle waged between a father and his daughter, where the ultimate prize was the privilege, the honor, the right to wish you good morning first.

sukuna, being the supreme strategist that he was, played it smart. he had an advantage, after all. he woke up early, hit the gym before the sun even thought about rising, and returned home just in time to catch you in the kitchen, where he could saunter up and drop the first morning greeting before his pint-sized opponent even rolled out of bed.

today was no different. he could already see you by the counter, tea in hand, your hair still messy from sleep. perfect. the moment was his.

he smirked. “mornin’, babe—”

then he heard it.

a rumble. deep. foreboding. a sound that struck the soul with a primal sense of dread.

from the hallway emerged the general of the opposition—mr. pickles, in all his aged, majestic, maine coon glory. his fur bristled like a battle-worn lion’s mane, his tail swishing with terrifying precision. and behind him, following in lockstep, was his tiny, formidable apprentice—babykuna, determination burning in her little eyes.

sukuna barely had time to process before he saw it.

baby. airborne.

yes. flung. like a living, breathing projectile, claws extended, hurtling toward his unsuspecting face.

“ABORT—”

too late. impact.

sukuna shrieked, staggering back as baby latched onto him like a rabid gremlin, paws swiping at his face, claws digging into his skin as if enacting some ancient feline vengeance. “you little—get OFF, you hairy demon—”

and amidst the chaos, babykuna, the true mastermind of this operation, elegantly twirled past his flailing form, reached your side, and placed her tiny hands on your arm. “good morning, mama,” she said sweetly, blinking up at you.

you smiled. “good morning, baby.”

victory.

sukuna, meanwhile, was busy peeling baby off his face, muttering curses under his breath. he looked at his daughter, utterly betrayed. “you little snake. you used the damn cat as a weapon.”

babykuna giggled, holding up one tiny finger. “papa zero. me, one.”

mr. pickles sat beside her, victorious, licking a paw with all the smugness of an undefeated war general. competition was important, after all. and sukuna, for all his strength and cunning, had lost.

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

—PART FOUR

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Notes: finally, a divorced man meets a divorced woman.

PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE | MISC.

Nothing too interesting happened for the last couple of months, work on earth, do paperwork in heaven, repeat.

Scratch that, something did happen.

[Y/n] looked at her hand, seeing the gold band that was usually on her ring finger was now placed on her middle finger. A symbol of individuality and responsibility. She and Azrael finally got divorced—for shits and giggles. Just kidding. Azrael found love that's why and he and [y/n] it was time to end this marriage of theirs and remain friends. Azrael is now dating this cute principality angel named Francis. She supports them. She even set them up lmao.

They still continue doing their usual routine of spending their free time in each other's places (more on spending time at her home) and gossip.

She has to find her own love someday. [Y/n] sighs softly. Eyes staring outside her office window.

Today is the extermination day. She hopes Adam fucks up during it.

It was rather boring for the rest of the day. She was just flying around heaven and seeing if the order was maintained. [Y/n]'s eyes widened when she saw Emily showing someone around heaven. Someone familiar.

That's right! She saw this snake man during the meeting when Charlie was showing about Angel's progress.

He looks different though.

Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her.

He got redeemed.

Blinking her eyes, eyes sparkling in excitement.

She calms herself down first, she needs to confirm it.

Flying next to Emily, the girl slightly jumps in surprise to see [y/n]. Despite the woman being one of god's seven virtues, Emily sees her as an older sister figure.

“Hi [y/n]! Nice to see you here, it has been awhile since I've last seen you!” Emily says excitedly, eyes sparkling and wings flapping from excitement from seeing the older woman. The man beside her just looked in confusion.

“Hello Emi, dear. I just so happen to have some free time so I was just flying around. Is this a new soul you're showing around?” [y/n] asked, smiling softly at the girl and the girl squealed.

“Yes! Actually, this man right here. Was a sinner and got redeemed! Isn't that amazing!” Emily says and [y/n]'s eyes widened and smiled, smirking a bit before returning it to a genuine smile. The confused snake just staring back and forth between the two girls.

“Really? Now, isn't that surprising. This... This changes everything.” [y/n] says with a whisper before turning to look at the redeemed soul.

“Tell me, mister. What is your name? As one of the seven virtues, I would like to know the name of the first sinner ever to be redeemed.” [y/n] says curtly and bows at him gracefully.

“I am Sssir Pentiousss... It is a pleassure to meet you... Misss?” Sir Pentious greeted, though a little awkward but cute.

“Greetings Sir Pentious, I am Raphael. An archangel and one of God's seven virtues. But you can call me [y/n].” [y/n] says with a small smile, offering her hand for a handshake which Sir Pentious accepted.

[Y/n] looked at her watch that's on her wrist, pretended to look worried. “As much as I want to stay and chat. I have somewhere else to be. Emily, Sir Pentious. It was nice seeing you two.” [y/n] says frantically, although just pretending.

Emily nodded and tried to calm the panicking archangel, “It's alright Miss [y/n], we can catch up later.” she says and [y/n] smiles and places a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.

“Alright, have fun. And Sir Pentious?” [y/n] calls out to the man and he looks at her with confusion. “Welcome to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” she says and quickly waves goodbye and flies away.

A meeting was then held with the seven virtues, they discussed what they should do next now that Charlotte Morningstar's hotel has worked. They agreed to put Sera on a trial but won't punish her severely like Lucifer.

“Adam's dead?” Camuel asked, shocked and [y/n] nodded.

“Apparently. Based on the exorcists' reports. Manz gone.” [y/n] says with a shrug and a lazy smirk.

“Finally!” Azrael laughs, the others just smirking.

“Good riddance.” Michael says calmly though a slight smirk on his face.

“What's our next course of action?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms.

“Since this hotel the Morningstars are offering seems to work then there's only one thing we can do next.” Uriel says, sighing.

“Can't believe it actually worked. I guess we were wrong on how we treated Lucifer.” Camuel says and the others just shrug and sigh.

“We support this. We'll have to make sure this hotel keeps on working.” Jophiel says.

“[y/n].” Michael calls out and [y/n] can already tell where this is going.

“No.” she deadpans and Michael deadpans at her in return.

“What do you mean no? I haven't even asked yet.” Michael deadpans, Azrael chuckling beside [y/n].

“I just have a feeling I won't like it.” [y/n] says with a frown on her face.

“Too bad, you're doing it anyways. I want you to go down there and make sure to keep track of the hotel's progress.” Michael says sternly making [y/n] whine, she drops her head onto the circular table they were all sitting in. Groaning.

“More work? I don't wanna.” she says with a groan. Gabriel laughs.

“This can be an opportunity to get closure with you know who?” Uriel says with a chuckle.

“The fuck is closure? I don't need it.” [y/n] says, rolling her eyes.

“I think this is your chance [n/n]. I heard he's divorced lmao.” Jophiel cackles, [y/n] groaning once more.

“You two are going to be matching or twinsies!” Azrael teases making [y/n] glare at him playfully.

“Jokes aside. You need this [y/n]. Get some closure. We want you to be happy for once and I don't think we can handle more years of you feeling guilty for being so cold during the last time you saw him.” Camuel says softly, giving the girl a thumbs up.

“I better get extra day offs for this.” [y/n] says with a groan.

“Deal.” Michael says and [y/n] sighs.

It was a few weeks after the extermination that was targeted at the hotel. The hotel has been rebuilt and now looks even better than before. Charlie is happy that she and her friends managed to stop the extermination. There are some new sinners who wanted to give redemption a try so now the hotel is now bustling slightly. Her dad moved in and has a room of his own and helps her manage the hotel.

Currently, the crew are in the lobby just talking. It was already late in the evening and the other guests are now sleeping. Angel, Lucifer, and Husk were at the bar area. Niffty was cleaning, Vaggie and Alastor were on the couch.

Knock, knock, knock.

Loud knocks were heard on the front door of the hotel.

“New guests perhaps?” Alastor says with a grin, Charlie grins excitedly. A new soul wanting to try redemption.

The others just watched the girl walked towards the door, curious who was behind it.

Charlie took a deep breath, preparing herself to greet the new guest.

Opening the door, it was someone she did not expect.

A tall woman (almost the same height as Alastor) was standing by the door, a serious look on her face. What caught her attention was the amount of authority and power emitting from her and... The golden halo on her head and the small angel wings behind her head.

“Good evening Charlotte Morningstar, I came as a messenger from heaven.” the angel says with a grin.

Lucifer's body went pale as he heard that oh so familiar voice.

“[y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs in disbelief, seeing his supposed best friend now in front of the door.

“It has been awhile, Lucifer.” [y/n] says softly, eyes still emotionless. She's actually just dissociating so her eyes are like that, she can't control it okay. She has a serious case of lazy eyes.

“Ooohh drama...” Angel Dust whispers to Husk.

Suddenly an angelic spear was pointed at her throat, she did not flinch nor was afraid. She merely used her finger to move it away.

“What are you doing here?” the gray haired girl asked, glaring at her. [Y/n] just looked down on her with a smile on her face.

“I am just here to deliver a message. The seven virtues would like to support this hotel!” She says with a grin, Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.

Why wouldn't he? The seven virtues didn't listen to him before. So why now?

“Why now? Why did the seven decide to support this hotel just now?” Lucifer glares.

[Y/n] clapped her hands, Lucifer's eyes landing on the wedding band on her middle finger. It's no longer in her ring finger.

Alastor noticed the way the king of hell looked at the newly appeared angel with so much longing in his eyes. Interesting... Alastor grins.

“First and foremost, heaven apologizes for the yearly cleansing. It was a decision Sera, the high seraphim decided without informing us. We do not condone her actions and she would be faced in a trial.” [y/n] says nonchalantly, putting her hands on her pocket.

Lucifer flinches, he didn't know the decision was Sera's alone.

“Secondly, the hotel works.” [y/n] says with a grin.

This made the others look at her with confusion.

“A certain serpent sinner was redeemed. Ironic as the first one to doom humanity was a serpent and the first one to give humanity hope for redemption is also a serpent.” [y/n] laughs softly, Lucifer's eye twitched.

[Y/n]'s words sparked even more confusion with the others.

“Serpent?” Angel Dust asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Someone who goes by Sir Pentious is now in heaven. Based on my records, he was a sinner before.” [y/n] says, shrugging.

Their eyes widened at the news. Sir Pentious is alive!

“How can we be so sure you're not lying?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. [Y/n] just chuckles.

“It is up to you if you believe it or not, after all... Angels never lie.” she says with a grin, summoning a small notebook from thin air, flipping through the pages of the notebook to scan for her notes.

“Lastly, I will be helping with the hotel during my scheduled time here. I'll be keeping track of the soul's progress here and research how a soul actually goes to heaven as Sir Pentious' case is a rare one and the first one so... We have no data. Heaven hopes to find more info about this case.” [y/n] explained, “I hope we'll get along.” she says with a grin.

Charlie's eyes widened, progress. Her hotel is making progress. Heaven is slowly helping her.

“Excuse me, Miss...?” Charlie softly calls, not knowing the angel's name.

[Y/n] looked at the smaller girl, patting the girl's head.

“My name is [y/n], also known as the archangel Raphael. One of God's seven virtues. It is a pleasure to finally meet you officially, Ms. Morningstar.” [y/n] introduces herself gracefully. Lucifer is still in awe in how fast she climbed the ranks.

Charlie nodded, finally happy to know the woman.

“Is there a way for us to visit Sir Pentious?” she asked hopefully, the others leaning in and hoping the same thing. [Y/n] closes her notebook, a loud sound sounding from it.

“I am sorry, heaven currently doesn't accept visitation unless necessary. Although, I can send letters back and forth whenever I visit.” She suggested, Charlie's eyes saddened but returned to hopeful. At least they know Sir Pentious is still alive.

“That would be all. I'll see you next time on my visit to keep track of the progress. Until then.” [y/n] says softly bowing at them. Turning her back and slowly walked away from the door.

Stopping, she didn't turn around to face them again.

“And Lucifer...?” she says, hesitating but her voice is vulnerable. Lucifer's breath hitched and the others just looked at the scene with curiosity. It is obvious these two knew each other based on how they already know each when she first arrived. They can practically sense the tension.

“I was wrong and I am sorry.” she says softly. Summoning her three pairs of wings, large and majestic.

She has wings now... Lucifer thought. His eyes softened when he heard her apologize.

“Wait... [Y/n]—” He called out but she didn't listen.

[Y/n] quickly flies away, a portal opening for her and closes after she enters.

“Did anyone else notice the tension...?” Angel asked, voicing out everyone's thoughts, a smirk on his face. Angel didn't mention that he really felt the unspoken romantic tension between the two angelic beings. He's getting more tea.

“This is getting interesting.” Alastor says with a grin and Lucifer knows that the radio demon just found more ways to torment him.

End notes: I know some of you read Alastor's line in Zhongli or Childe's voice lmao. And yes, Azrael and reader divorced each other. I had to ship Azrael with my oc okayy, I need Azrael to have some love 💀

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[onlyangel4]

all night. ln4. smau + written.

lando norris x girlfriend!reader

request: What about a lando smau with “all night” by s-x & trippie red?? Thank you! 🫶

reader and lando are in that early stage of their relationship where they don't want to be apart. in which lando and y/n are two horny fuckers and the whole world needs to know about it

warnings: 18+. suggestive. cursing.

faceclaim: carlacia grant

y/bff posted a story

written: d8 night @.yninsta

lando norris: y/bff you know how you love me and you love how happy i make y/n

y/bff: oh dear what do you want

landonorris: can you convince y/n to come to mine and not her apartment because i miss her but i don't want to be needy. i want to treat her to a beach day tomorrow

y/bff: so instead of asking your girlfriend you want me to trick her into going to yours

landonorris: yes exactly that

y/bff: you are unbelievable. she is on her way.

landonorris: thank you thank you

"you are fucking unbelievable", you spoke as soon as you opened the door to lando's apartment using the key he gave you the first month you were seeing each other. you had arrived to the house to find him peering out of the window like a puppy that had been left home alone for the first time.

"what do you mean my love", he whispered in your ear as his arms snaked around you middle, head finding its usual place in the crook of your neck allowing him to inhale your scent.

"you know exactly what i mean you had ybff heavily suggest that i come here instead of going home", you spoke trying to keep your resolve but the feeling of lando's thumbs rubbing your hips had your composure crumbling.

"and what proof do you have?"

"she showed me the messages"

"oh. well maybe i am guilty but it worked", he spoke as he began to scatter kisses across the side of your neck. "come on y/n let me show you how much i missed you my love", he spoke before gently nibbling on the soft skin of your neck, knowing that was all he needed to do for you to give in to him.

"you will be the death of me mister norris"

landonorris posted a private story

written: guess i tired her out last night

y/bff: i know the caption is sexual but i am so fucking glad you didn't make a tea bag joke

landonorris: i wanted to but she wouldn't let me so this had to do

landonorris posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: aren't i just the luckiest guy in the world

y/ninsta posted a private story

written: oops

landonorris posted a private story

landonorris posted a private story

written: this is y/n sulking because we were told we can't fuck in the helicopter

y/ninsta

liked by landonorris, y/bff, oscarpiastri and 872,882 others

tagged landonorris

y/ninsta: had the best last few days at the beach with my lover

view all 17,633 comments

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad y'all are back those private stories were a bit much

user1: oh my god i wonder what they were

y/bff: i'm so glad you have finally found someone to match your freak

y/ninsta: he brings out the real freak in me

landonorris: gonna take you to the beach all the time just to see you in those pretty little bikini's

y/insta: i could always wear them around the house

landonorris: nah i like you naked around the house

user2: holy shit they are so fucking horny

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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