#Welcome to Our Fire PIt

[bird-likes-to-fandom]

i think kissing a girl would fix me

#I really want to have like. a low stakes secret summer romance out in the country. does that make sense #like we kiss by the fire pit out in the backyard. illuminated by the soft orange glow of the fire and the fireflies around us #you wrap your arms around me and your jacket smells like smoke and there's still a bit of roasted marshmallow on my cheek. you wipe it away #and when our parents find out they are not angry. they merely welcome us with an 'it's about time. I'm so happy for you' #bird likes to chirp #not to get soulful and yearning tonight but idk. it's something I've been thinking about a lot

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer breaks your deal with Alastor

・❥ Your soul is owned by Alastor, and Lucifer is not pleased about it.

x: OVER 20k words!? strap in ya’ll, it’s a roller coaster.

xx: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. if you want to read it in chapter-form, you can read it over on my ao3 here.

warnings: adult themes, abuse, angst

‘Alright, deep breaths. You’ve got this. You’ve practiced this so much it’s a cakewalk, so just take it easy. You’ll rock it, like always.’

“Oi! Welcome to the show, ya dirty sinners! Didn’t think ya’d see me all the way up here, did’ja?!”

Screams and cheers echoed from the seats below, as the voice of the King of Greed boomed from the loudspeakers. 

"Well, listen up, ya pitiful souls! I've got a craving for some more cash, so I've decided to bring the whole shebang right here to the heart of sin, Pentagram City!"

The cheering erupted once more, the spotlights danced across the sandy pit underneath the large circus tent. On the perimeter were rows and rows of stands, packed with demons nestled against each other.

It was Mammon’s first circus show in the Pride Ring, a very rare sight to see him leave his cozy little ring in general. But, when a good portion of your fans are sinners who can’t leave without being incinerated, then you have to receive them on their home turf.

In the large pit, two lions jumped obediently through hoops, their handlers shouting commands and cracking their whips to further spur the cat’s maneuvers.

Bright green flame danced around the lion’s faces, resembling that of a large mane. Their eyes were soulless, black pits that glimmered in the bright lights as they continued maneuvers through the tight obstacles.

On the edges of the pit, support poles towered above the crowd. Thin wires snaked across them, anchored to large platforms that hung in the air from the pole’s side.

“As ya can see, we’ve got a big show tah’night! Lots of great fuckin’ acts for ya mongrels to eat up. But, before we get to the juicy bits, direct your eyes up to the ceiling to get a look at our first performance!” 

Hundreds of gazes lifted to sky, the spotlights below beaming upward towards a platform at one end of the tent.

Bright, white lights hit your vision, and you squinted your eyes to prevent them from burning to a crisp from the focused beams.

You stood, your bare feet planted firmly against the platform’s white surface. Before you, a tightrope connected your place to another platform in the distance, beckoning you.

A small hoop hung from the ceiling, encircling a small portion of the wire. The trick was that it was too small for you to stand up straight while walking through it, so you’d need to limbo underneath it.

"As you can see, we've got some sorry sap up there that is about to practically walk on thin air! See that hoop over there? They're fixin' to stroll right through it."

Small ooh’s and ahh’s emanated from the crowd, their eyes darting from you to the hoop.

"But hold your horses, folks! That ain't your run-of-the-mill hoop, no sir! That, my friends, is a hoop on fuckin’ fire!!”

Suddenly, the hoop ignited in a burst of green flames, illuminating the area before you. Gulping, you took another deep breath, steadying yourself.

Okay, well, you knew that was gonna happen. You’ve just never actually practiced with the hoop on fire, but it shouldn’t be too hard.. right?

You nodded to yourself, assuring your racing thoughts that everything was gonna be alright.

The skin-tight suit you were wearing sparkled in the spotlight, dazzling the spectators with a red gleam as you hovered right over the edge of the platform, waving to the crowd. 

You had been performing ever since you could remember, and this was just another part of the job. You weren’t a part of Mammon’s original crew though, only being given the opportunity when they arrived at Pentagram City.

You were a Sinner, which meant being confined to the Pride Ring just like the rest. Fortunately, one of Mammon’s acrobats was too sickly to perform, so when you saw the large poster detailing auditions, you jumped at the opportunity to make some extra bucks.

You had arrived at the settled convoy of vehicles and trailers at the outskirts of the city, you were ecstatic. You hadn’t performed in an actual circus in forever, and the make-shift village of performers and equipment was a fresh sight.

Mammon himself was a… colorful character. He was a hard party rocker with a big ego, and most likely had a swear jar at home overflowing with pennies, with how that guy talked.

You hadn’t really met him when you auditioned, but you could definitely hear him. He was loud, practically demanding everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t addressing them. 

You could hear him yelling about an absent performer, annoyance evident in his voice as he berated an assistant.

"What do ya mean he couldn't make it to practice 'cause he lost his voice? He's a bloody mime, mate! What the hell are we payin’ these blokes for!?"

When you had performed for the recruiters—which you were surprised to find wasn’t Mammon, since the guy seemed to stick his nose in everything—you displayed to them your . A few somersaults, a bit of ariel silk action, and the classic, juggling. 

“How good is your balance?” One of them had questioned, their pen tapping softly against the wooden desk, as they considered your skills.

“Good enough, I suppose.” You replied truthfully.

Long story short, you got the gig. Although, when you heard they wanted you to tightrope under a hoop, that was a little surprising. 

Good thing you weren’t afraid of heights, or this would have been a nightmare.

Backing away from the edge, your gaze rested on the hoop aflame in front of you. After Mammon would finish speaking, you’d begin your act.

"But that ain't the only thing heating up tonight, folks."

Wait, what did he mean by that?

“‘Cause the tightrope… is also on fire!!!” 

What?!

The crowd went berserk hearing that. They whooped and hollered, as their twisted little fantasies came true before their eyes.

“Oh, god damnit, Mammon!” You muttered.

When you told them you had a pretty good pain tolerance, that did not mean resistance to fire!

You sighed, it was a little too late to back out now. Plus, you needed the money. Bouncing on your toes, you attempted to hype yourself up.

Exhaling a large breath, your foot lifted from the stand, and slowly reached out towards the tightrope. 

‘Fuck, this is going to hurt.’ you groaned internally, your toe just inches from the wire. You could feel the heat of the fire as it hungrily licked at your feet. 

Right as you were about to place yourself onto the wire, you felt something tugging at the back of your collar. 

It was deathly cold, and you tried to pull away from its touch, but whatever was holding you had a strong grip. A thick green fog-like substance pooled at your feet, and you looked down in confusion as it began to circle around your figure.

You felt the force on your collar harshly pull you backwards, and your feet lifted from the ground. The smoke became so thick in front of you, it was only the bright lights from the spotlights below that gave you any visual. Suddenly, large eyes began to dot your vision, staring directly at you, into your hollow being.

“What the fu-”

Darkness suddenly covered your vision, and you felt like you were floating in mid-air. Though, you couldn’t tell where exactly in the air you were, other than the fact the surface below you had completely vanished.

You tried to peel your eyes open, but whatever had thrusted you into this chilling realm would not let you get a glimpse of your surroundings. It wasn’t until you felt your feet hit firm ground, and a much less intense light hit your eyelids. You opened them slowly, your mouth still partially open.

“-ckkkk?” You finished, your eyes darting from one side of the mysterious room to the other. It looked strange.. to say the least. It was old, a little run down. It screamed tacky. 

You observed the room again, trying to find anything familiar that could gauge your location.

Were you in a hotel lobby? But, why? How? You’ve never been here before, nor did you know anyone who stayed at such a dump.

“Ah, there you are, my friend! What a pleasure to see you!”

You pivoted sharply to face behind you, and your eyes widened in shock at the familiar face.

Standing before you, a large toothy-grin plastered across his face, was Alastor. The owner of your soul, your eternal boss, the Radio Demon, and the butt end of most of your unfunny jokes—which you would never dare say in front of him.

“You!”

Your finger lifted, pointing accusingly at the tall, red demon. He only tilted his head amusingly at you, that smile only growing wider as you frowned.

“Yes, it is I. I’m glad you remember my face, how are you today?” 

“What do you want?” You grumbled, ignoring his question. You crossed your arms before taking a step back. There were others behind him, but it was Alastor you were focused on as you waited for his response.

“Oh, just some charity work. My new friends over here are in need of some more helping hands, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services!” 

He motioned to the others behind him, and you glanced at the strangers. One of them was a woman with long, platinum-blonde hair, who smiled awkwardly at you with a wave. 

“That’s great!” You replied sarcastically, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “but couldn’t you wait until after my gig? I was about to make some good money!”

Alastor only sidled up to you, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his cheek as if you two were best friends. You wanted to recoil from his touch, but you knew you’d get nothing good out of that action. 

“Oh, I am terribly sorry about that, my friend. But, we do have an agreement, as I'm sure you are well aware. Which means, for the time being, you’ll be living here at the hotel!”

Of course you were aware of the “agreement”, the guy had your soul! 

“What hotel?”

“The Hazbin Hotel! What do you think about the name, hm? I came up with it myself!” 

“It’s kind of lame.” 

“Oh-ho! You are such a charm, my dear! I can always count on you to liven up the room with your jokes.”

You sighed, uncrossing your arms and lowering them to your sides in defeat. You were stuck here, with Alastor, until he no longer needed your presence. As always.

“I still would have appreciated a call beforehand or something.” 

“Take my arrival back in the city as the call, my friend. My return was no doubt discussed by many. You knew I’d acquire your assistance at some point.”

Yes, that’s right. Alastor had been gone a good, what, seven years? It was strange, how he had just disappeared without a word or any kind of clue to his location. Where had he gone? Why was he being so secretive about it?

You didn’t miss him, of course. His absence was a mini vacation for you, a break from endless favors that he deemed you worthy to complete. What a joke.

“Now, why don’t we go and introduce you to all these fantastic fellows, hm?” He spoke, a command deep in his static-laced tone.

You turned back towards the small group of demons, who stood a few feet away silently as the two of you bickered. Standing slightly away from the rest, was a familiar furry face. Husker. He was here too? 

Nudging you forward with his cane, you walked up to the onlookers, who regarded you with a mixed expression. The shorter gray lady stood glaring at you with suspicion, her eyes darting between you and Alastor.

Beside her, was that pretty pale-faced demon in the red tuxedo. She smiled broadly at you, her eyes practically gleaming in excitement at seeing the multiple new faces.

“Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! I'm so glad to have you aboard!” 

“..Hi, it’s good to meet you too.”

“Let me introduce you to our crew! Over there is my girlfriend, Vaggie!”

She motioned towards the shorter gray woman, and you looked at her more carefully. She had an X across her eye, barely visible with the long hair she situated across half her face. She still eyed you with suspicion, but her demeanor had softened as Charlie spoke to you.

“And, over there is Angel Dust, our first resident of the hotel!”

“How ya doing, Sugar?” Angel winked at you, as he leaned against the bar counter. Husk stood behind the counter, a thin line on his lips.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Husker and Niffty, right?” 

You nodded, your gaze meeting Husk’s. His eyes softened just a teeny bit, before he let out a hmph and turned away towards the shelves of bottles against the wall.

Your attention turned back to Charlie, as she began filling you in with the details about the hotel and her plans.

She seemed like a sweet girl, passionate and imaginative. When she described her dreams to you, for the hotel, for the entirety of Hell, you listened carefully.

Sinners.. being redeemed? Going to Heaven? That seemed too good to be true. Unbelievable, almost. Sure, some of the demons down here weren’t too bad, but surely none of them were good enough to actually climb to the pearly gates. 

Charlie seemed… different from other dreamers, though, like she could actually get it to work. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made you think so. Maybe it was because she was the princess of Hell, and was the second highest on the food chain of this damned place.

You were lucky with how down-to-earth she was, or your bluntness would have probably gotten you smited by now.

In comparison to Charlie, you were a nobody. Well, you were nobody in general. You didn’t own anything of value, not even your soul.

Charlie didn’t act like a princess though. Such as how she spoke to you, and her friends. No command in her tone, no true motives behind layers of smiles and sweetly spoken lies. 

If she was the owner of your soul, maybe life wouldn’t be so bad. She treated everyone fairly, without judgment of who they used to be. Only dreaming of who they could be.

Was the King of Hell the same? How much did Charlie mirror her father, anyway? 

“So.. what can you do?” Charlie broke you from your thoughts, she was turned to you, her gaze meeting yours intently as she waited for you to respond.

“Well, I'm a performer! Mostly aerobatics, but I can dance and other tricks. Oh! I’m also a crowd-pleaser, i’m a really smooth talker.”  

“That’s ssooooo cool! You do that kind of stuff, like, in the circus?”

“Mostly, yes. Any odd jobs I can find looking for my skill set, really. I’m not picky when it comes to money.”

Charlie contemplated your words for a moment, her eyes darting. She’s already got a bartender and a cleaning lady, but where to put you…

“I’m also fantastic at pick-pocketing.” You grinned pridefully at her. It was something you were very good at, and that you had continued to perfect during your time in Hell.

It was also what led you to make that wretched deal with Alastor. 

“Oh.. um, let’s stick with your other skills, hm?” Charlie smiled awkwardly, before she turned her head, and her eyes landed on an empty desk situated near the large entrance doors. 

She perked, her eyes widening in glee as she spun around towards you. 

“That’s it! You can be our new receptionist! You’ll answer calls and greet all our newcomers, and you’ll be in charge of making sure all our guests are well taken care of during their stay.”

Your smile faltered, your gaze resting on the desk behind Charlie before meeting her eyes once more. You chuckled like she had just told you a good joke. Except when your eyes met hers again, she only smiled at you in anticipation.

Wait, was she serious?

“I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your hands up and shaking your head, “but that is not something i’m good at nor-“

“Well I think it’s a splendid idea!” Alastor appeared besides you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His claws dug slightly into your suit, and you whipped your head up, eyeing him with animosity. 

His eyes were squinted, a glare behind that wide grin. ‘Stay in line, or else.’ was his silent command. You scrunched up your nose, ready to argue, but the intellectual part of your brain smacked you upside the head. 

Your shoulders drooped, that frown deepening before you turned to Alastor. You pulled your shoulder from his grip, and looked at Charlie. 

“Fine.”

And, that’s how it was for a time. 

There wasn’t much to do, in all honesty. As the months ticked by, you sat at that desk drowning in boredom. The people at the hotel were lively, but the job? Not so much.

While Alastor was the face, you were the paperwork. Although, he barely acted like it, which meant you took most of the work. 

There were barely any phone calls, any new visitors, anything new at all really. So, you instead filled your days with walking around the hotel, observing the rooms of any renovations that Alastor could make, or you’d write shopping lists for groceries and other miniscule items for the crew, and going out yourself to shop. 

There was that one demon, the snake inventor, that had become a resident during your time working. You had been there, when he attacked Alastor on the hotel’s doorstep. Your mouth agape as you watched him tear a piece of your boss’s suit, waiting for the snake to meet his death.

He didn’t, surprisingly. Instead, he had arrived not too long after apologizing. Which was shocking, and.. eye opening. 

Could Charlie’s dream come true? Alastor spoke of it as if it would turn into nothing but a failure. You had believed him, but now, that doubt was fading from your mind.

Could.. there be a chance for you too? 

You had mentally slapped yourself for that thought. You, redeemed? With no soul, you were trapped here. Only ever being able to watch from the sidelines as those more worthy ascended. 

Thoughts like that only came when you had drank a little too much. Finger mindlessly circling the rim of your wine glass, brow furrowed as you lamented over your poor decisions, you’d sit at the bar in silence late at night.

Nobody bothered you during those times, not even Alastor. No one saw the way your lip began to quiver, the way your vision blurred with tears.

No one noticed the surface of your drink disturbed with a droplet of salty sadness as it mixed with the bitter alcohol. 

‘You don’t deserve to feel sorry for yourself,’ you’d think bitterly, soaked anger spilling down your cheeks, ‘you damned yourself to eternal suffering the moment you shook that demon’s hand.’

Taking the glass, you’d lift it to your lips and empty the rest of the contents. That salty tang still hanging on your tongue when you set the glass back down.

On the worst nights, you’d simply rest your head against the countertop. The cool surface refreshing to your warm cheek, as you curled into yourself, and drifted into a restless sleep.

When you’d wake a few hours later, your blood-shot, tired eyes would open to the sight of a glass of ice-cold water and a migraine pill sitting a few feet away from your face. 

You never saw who catered to your hungover needs, but you had an inkling of a guess.

Lifting your head, you’d blink away the morning fog before sitting up straight with a groan. Slowly, you’d reach out and grab the small capsule and the water, before swallowing both in one large gulp.

Then, it was back to work as always.

Sometimes, you’d actually that phone on your desk would brnnnggg loudly, and you’d leap out of your chair to have a conversation with a fresh new voice. 

“You guys at least provide free Hash, right?” The masculine voice on the other end questioned.

“Sir, this a hotel meant for redemption. Y’know, to Heaven? We don’t have any paraphernalia here.” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you listened to the guy.

“Wait.. so you’re saying Heaven doesn’t have joints?”

“I’ve never been up there, obviously. Though I'm sure drugs are a big no-no up there.” 

“Then what the fuck is the point of wanting to go up there?! No weed? No sex toys? Fuck Heaven! Fuck you and your stupid little hotel!” 

“Choke on dick and die!” You snarled, slamming the phone back into place. You leaned back in the chair, fuming silently. The calls never ended well. 

“Good job, you’re really pulling in all those potential residents.” A sarcastic voice piped up near you.

Your head snapped to the bar across the room, your gaze resting on the black and white feline who was busy cleaning glasses on the counter. 

Standing from your spot, you stroll over to the bar, before nestling into one of the bar stools. Placing a hand under your chin, you rested your elbow against the shiny countertop.

“Pour an old friend a drink, won’t you Husk?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

His soul was owned by Alastor too, and even if you didn’t know the guy too well, you felt a kinship with him. You both were hollow beings, now.

“We ain’t friends,” the demon grumbled, “I'm just stuck with you and Niffty until I kick the bucket.”

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy-Pants.” You laughed as he reached for your go-to bottle. Same old, adorably-cross Husker. 

He was getting better, though. Happier, even. The night he disappeared to go retrieve Angel Dust, he came back with a bounce in his step. Seemingly more at peace, with whatever happened between the two away from prying eyes.

Once, you swore you heard him humming some old, happy tune while he organized the liquor bottles on the shelf. Husk.. singing? That was something you thought you’d never see.

He had a very good poker face, and half the time you couldn’t tell if the kitty even liked you. He always regarded you like he was behind a closed, see-through door. Getting close to you just enough to see and speak to you, but never enough you could actually reach out and use him for support. Hopefully, he was getting better with that too.

Maybe, with how things were going, he’d let you scratch his chin one day. You always wanted to try it, see if he purred just like they did back on Earth.

“What do you think about the hotel?”  You asked him, as he popped the cap off the bottle with his claw, and began pouring a glass in front of your seat.

“It ain’t too bad,” Husk replied truthfully, “But, it could be better.”

“I agree, I was having a pretty good time out on my own before this. Guess we’ll just have to get used to it, I’m not sure how long Alastor plans to keep us here.”

“You don’t know?” 

You raised an eyebrow at the feline, as you took a sip of your drink. “No, I don’t. Why would you think I do?” 

“Well, I just assumed the two of you would discuss those kind things.”

“You think I talk to Alastor about his deceitful plans with this place?” 

“Why wouldn’t you? I mean, you two are practically the same, with your silver-tongue and all.”

You leaned back, a mixture of surprise and disgust on your face at his words. Husk thought you and Alastor were like, what, best buddies? The demon that owned your soul?

“That’s a fucking lie,” You growled, glaring at him, “I’m not like that douchebag at all. Just because I’m good at talking my way out of tough shit, doesn’t mean I use them to manipulate people into making magical deals that fuck up their entire existence.” 

Using your feet, you pushed your chair back forcefully. It scraped harshly against the wooden floor, as you stood up from the stool. You didn’t even glance at Husk as you sharply turned away, and stomped across the room.

“Thanks for the drink, Asshole.” You called as you turned the corner into a long hallway, towards your room.

You didn’t speak to Husker for a while after that, or go to the bar. Instead, you worked and kept to yourself in your room. It wasn’t until you walked into the lobby one early morning, did you see the feline.

He was standing with the rest of the crew, concern etched across their faces as they circled around a mumbling, erratic Charlie Morningstar. 

“Why isn’t the hotel working?!” You could hear her fume, as she fussed over a large tack board filled with drawings and pictures. 

It wasn’t until about a half an hour later, when Charlie had hung up the phone with her father, did you realize the day was going to get much stranger.

“Alright, guys! My dad is going to be here in one hour, so we have to make this place perfect!” She said, a nervous smile on her lips as she addressed the small crowd.

Everyone tensed, their eyes darting to each other at her words.

Charlie’s dad was coming? Lucifer Morningstar? The King of Hell?!

Suddenly, the room bursted into action. Sir. Pentious slithered to the kitchen, claiming he needed to bake sweets for Lucifer’s arrival. Charlie was practically hyperventilating as Vaggie rubbed her shoulder soothingly. 

“Aw man, I gotta go put on my new perfume!” Angel Dust yelled from the chaos, as he sped away towards his room. Husk continued wiping down the bar countertop, but a little more feverishly now. 

Alastor was the only one seemingly unchanged by the news of the king’s arrival. He only stood there grinning, as the others rushed around him, before beginning to push back his cuticles.

“I’m just going to go… put on some better clothes.” You called, unsure if anyone was even listening as they scrambled about. 

You quickly left the lobby, running to your room to clean yourself up and look presentable. Your mind raced as you did so, recalling all the rumors and gossip you’ve heard over the years.

Was he a cruel king? He couldn’t be, not with how Charlie turned out. But, with her reaction to asking for his help… that was strange. She had never spoken of him before, so it didn’t seem like they were that close.

What was he going to think of you? You’ve never stood before such an important figure, other than Charlie, but that was wayyy different than speaking to the most powerful man in the realm.

You’d just have to make him like you, to avoid any trouble. You needed to charm the King of Hell, just like you’ve done successfully with so many others.

You adjusted your appearance in the mirror, before nodding your head in self-approval. You crossed your room, pulling open the door, and making your way down the stairs. 

When you returned to the lobby, everyone was making last minute preparations. 

Sir. Pentious was busy tidying the cookies on the cooking sheet in front of him. Angel Dust was finishing hanging up the balloons around the room, while Charlie was hyping herself up in the corner.

A large banner with a handwritten message ‘It’s A Boy!’ hung from the ceiling, and you shook your head in embarrassment with a smile.

When you had made it back to the group, there was barely any time to talk before you heard a knock at the front door.

Everyone froze, and Charlie exhaled a large breath of nerves, before crossing the distance towards the door. She pulled it open, and a white hat poked from over her shoulder.

“Charlie!” 

You heard him before you saw him, and he sounded like a burst of sunshine as you watched Charlie get pulled into his bear hug.

She sputtered against his tight grip, before he finally released her. You could see the wide brim hat poking out of her figure, see that silly apple that stuck out from the top of his cane, as they talked for a few more moments.

It wasn’t until Charlie turned to face you and the rest of the crew, did you see Lucifer Morningstar’s face. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you drank in his figure.

Fuck. He was gorgeous. 

He definitely presented himself like a king, with how he stood with his back straight and head held high. He rested slightly against his cane, his interest piqued at the new faces.

As his gaze swept across the lobby, it briefly landed on you, and your heart fluttered in your chest. God, his eyes were so pretty. They were a soft, muted yellow, like buttercream. 

They held many emotions too, you could see it. There was deep sadness that never left his gaze, as if it followed him like a shadow. It was something you felt followed you too. What was his story? 

Your eyes traced the rest of his appearance, landing next on the golden strands nestled under his hat.

That platinum-blonde hair practically glowed underneath the chandelier lighting, as it curled delicately around his face. It looked so smooth and silky, like the guy had a 10-step hair care routine. It probably smelled amazing too. 

And, those cute little rosy cheek spots on the sides of his mouth, that stood out from his pale skin. If you tilted your head just right, you’d say he looked just like a cockatiel.

But, it was his smile that enraptured you. Not the fake one, that wide, awkward mess across his lips he did as a way to appeal to Charlie.

No, it was instead that warm, genuine grin that lit up his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. The smile that only appeared during tender moments, like when his daughter rubbed her cheek against his affectionately. 

You hoped he would start to smile like that more often. 

Charlie had approached your group, introducing Lucifer slowly through your companions. Your heartbeat quickened as they made their way closer to you. 

Taking a deep breath, you clasped your hands together, smiling warmingly at the duo approaching. Charlie stopped, turning to her father as she began to introduce you.

“And thisss is our receptionist! They’re in charge of handling most of our inbound and outbound affairs, and in helping us capture potential residents too!” 

“And I'm doing a fantastic job at that, by the way.” You declared to the two, that smile of yours widening as you edged closer to them. You lifted your arm, extending a hand towards the fallen angel.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” 

God, could this dude get any more perfect? The closer he got, the warmer you felt your body temperature become, like he was practically the sun itself.

He regarded it for a moment, before hesitantly taking your grip. His hands were soft, but firm. The gold band on his pinkie grazed across your finger, it was cool to the touch, giving you much needed relief to the growing intensity of the heat of his grasp.

His eyes traveled up yours once more, to your eyes as they flickered between your batting lashes, and to your pretty smile that only grew wider as you leaned forward.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He spoke softly with a grin, as he looked you over. His voice was like silk, and you wanted to wrap it around yourself like a sheet. 

A stark difference to Alastor’s, who gave you a headache listening to that static overlay every time the guy opened his mouth.

“This is your first time here, right?”

“Yes, I'm just here to give my daughter the support she needs for her little project.” Lucifer nodded, glancing over to Charlie as he spoke.

“Well, I hope your opinion of the hotel has improved now that you’ve seen it in person.” 

“Oh, believe me, it has.” He assured, that nervous grin disappearing from his face, and you could see a playful smirk slowly blooming on his lips.

That was before his eyes landed on the bar at the other end of the room, his hand left yours as he turned to face it. You pulled your arm back, clenching your hand as his warmth faded from your skin.

“What in the unholy Hell is that?”

You stood up straight, as he walked closer to the bar. Only for Alastor to appear right behind him, a deadly grin on his lips as he strutted forward.

“Just some renovations we’ve had done, adds a little bit of color! Don’t you think?”

You sighed, your lips twisting into a slight frown as you watched the tension in the room escalate with every word Lucifer and Alastor exchanged. It wasn't until Charlie sidled up beside her father, that the drama got good.

“I guess that’s why they call it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” Lucifer grinned, nudging Charlie with his elbow.

You snorted, your hand coming up to cusp your mouth at the sudden outburst. His dad joke was just so hilariously stupid—not to mention, it was pointed at Alastor, which was bonus points—you couldn’t contain the noise you made.

All eyes turned to you, and you felt sweat beading at your forehead from all the sudden attention.

Alastor still had that large toothy grin, but his eyes were squinted in a glare as his head snapped uneasily towards you. 

It was Lucifer’s gaze that captured your attention, though. He turned in surprise, as if shocked someone actually laughed at his joke. It wasn’t until he saw that the person that laughed was you, did he seem to slightly puff out his chest, a prideful grin dancing on his lips.

Heat flooded your cheeks as he sent you a mischievous wink, before his attention turned back to Alastor as the demon laughed2.

“Yes, Ha-Ha. It was actually my idea, though.” 

“Ha-Ha, well, it’s not very clever!” 

“A-Ha! Fuck you.”

You had stood to the side, as the two demons bickered and fought for Charlie’s attention. The insecurities of both became increasingly obvious to you as time went on.

Alastor, with his uneasiness that someone of much higher stature and power could take his role in the hotel. And, Lucifer, who’s relationship with his daughter was sour enough that the idea of someone replacing his role as a father caused him to short circuit.

Then, when a short, rotund woman bursted through the front doors, dressed like a flapper and fawning over Alastor, you realized even more how today was looking to be a really strange day.

Mimzy, an old friend of Alastor’s from when they were both swinging through the 20’s and 30’s back on Earth. 

You didn’t know her very well, other than she never stopped talking, and in your opinion, had an ego bigger than Alastor’s. But, you’ve been around long enough to know that whenever she came around, it was only to beg Alastor for help when she fucked up.

Your opinion of her only worsened when the wall a few feet away from you blew open less than ten minutes later. 

The chaos that ensued was even worse, as bullets began ripping through the walls of the hotel. Loan Sharks, snarling Mimzy’s name with venom, threw another explosive towards the building. 

When Alastor had suddenly arrived, shifting into his demonic form, you breathed a sigh of relief as he began to decimate the little army outside.

One of them was falling right above your head, and you tried to scramble away. 

Before it could turn you into a stain on the carpet, it suddenly jerked away, smashing into the closest wall instead. Gold sparks faded from around its wooden frame, and you turned your head to see Lucifer at the other end of the room with Charlie, his eyes trailing your form as you beelined for the opposite wall.

Another explosion rocked the lobby again, and you stumbled on your feet. A table skidded quickly across the floor, heading right for you.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins sent your body into overdrive, and you swiftly lean down, lowering your hands to meet the floor. With a powerful push, you launch yourself into a graceful somersault, your body arching elegantly over the crashing obstacle. Time seems to stretch as you execute the maneuver with precision, feeling the rush of wind against your skin as you spin through the air. Your back barely grazing the table’s surface before you landed into a roll. 

You shoot up from the ground, heart racing, a dumbstruck smile blooming across your lips at the realization you were still in one piece.

You were too preoccupied with Sir. Pentious barreling into your side; that you missed the pale face mirroring your  expression, as he watched you clear the table. 

By the time you untangled yourself from the snake demon, the dust had begun to settle in the room. Alastor had killed—or eaten—most of the Loan Sharks, and was now standing on the front lawn, cleaning bits of meat from underneath his nails.

Husk lifted his head slowly from behind the bar, eyes scanning the perimeter for danger. Mimzy crawled out from under the bar stools, before scurrying outside to speak with Alastor.

“Jesus, is everyone okay?” Angel Dust called, while Charlie was helping dust off stray pieces of rubble from Vaggie’s hair.

“HELPPPP!” Came the loud, mousy squeal from above your head. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, you see Niffty clutching a support beam with her life.

“Niffty? How the fuck did’ya get up there?!” Angel Dust yelled back, arms thrown in the air in exasperation.

It had partially dislodged from the ceiling, hanging loosely by one end. Niffty poked her head out from the side, her large eye darting across the room, as she waited for someone to come to her aid.

Your gaze traveled down from the support beam, your eyes landing on a water pipe, broken and sticking out from a large crack in the wall. It hung just perfectly in between you and Niffty, which would allow you to reach her quickly.

If you could just get a boost… aha! Your gaze lands on the partially torn couch that was scooted a few feet across the room from the explosions. If you leapt off its back, you could swing from the broken water pipe and use it to catapult yourself right next to Niffty. 

Lucifer analyzed the ceiling before turning to his daughter, smirking as he slowly lifted his cane.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got thi-“ 

“Hang on, Niff! I’m coming!” Your voice rang through the room, your footsteps echoing as you ran towards the damaged furniture. 

Taking a large leap, your feet hit the backrest of the couch. The muscles in your legs tense as you lower yourself slightly to vault forward and up, your arms shooting above your head as you close in on the pole.

Your fingers wrap around its chilling, metal surface; and with your palms snug against its frame, you swing forward, arching your body so your feet begin to lift above your head. 

You release the pole, your legs high in the air as you lift yourself up. You feel the wooden beam graze to the back of your knee pit, and you curl your legs around its base, hanging upside down.

Tensing all the muscles in your abdomen, you use the momentum to swing your legs around the beam and your butt hits the top of its base. You blink, your heart pounding in your chest as you exhale a sigh of relief.

Damn, that felt good. This was so much better than rotting at a desk all day, you really missed your old job. 

Niffty shot up next to you, wrapping her little arms around your forearm in glee.

“You came to rescue me, you’re my hero!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hang on, little lady.” 

You pulled her close, before getting to your feet. You lean over the edge, the only thing catching your eyes that you could use was that water pipe.

Okay, you’ve done a bit of parkour before. Piece of cake. 

You knelt slightly, before leaping from the beam. You stuck on foot out in front of you, and you felt your sole hit the top of the pipe. It was like taking a large step, as you swung your other leg forward and launched yourself with the other. 

Curling your legs, you practically cannonball into the couch. The large, plush cushions swallowed you for a moment, before spitting you back onto your feet in front of it.  

“Holy shit, ya didn’t die!” Angel Dust exhaled a sigh of relief, walking up to you. Niffty fussed in your hold, and you gently lowered her to the ground.

Niffty ran to Angel, who kneeled down to fuss over her for any injuries. You turned from the duo, before you caught sight of another figure coming forward.

“You’re an acrobat, aren’t you?” Lucifer said, a hint of astonishment in his tone as he strolled up to you, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“Yes, well, mostly. But I can do a lot of other things too.” You nodded, smiling bashfully at his facial expression.

“Wow! I mean, heh—boy, I haven’t seen anyone do that perfect of a maneuver in a long time. You looked like a ballerina up there with how strict your form was when you were swinging.”

Did Lucifer just.. compliment you? He knew about aerobics enough to make that kind of judgment on you? Man, this guy just kept getting better and better.

It should have been obvious, though. His silly red-and-white attire had struck you as familiar when you first saw him, and now you realized it was similar to the getup of a Ringmaster.

“Thank you, I've been practicing since I was young. I’ve even done a few circus acts before, and it’s always such a thrill. I'd do it over and over again without getting tired.”

“I think that’s called being an adrenaline junkie.” Lucifer teased, a playful smile on his lips. “But, really, that was good. Impressive, even.”

“Not as impressive as saving me from getting crushed by the ceiling.” 

Lucifer’s eyes widened just a tad, and he nervously adjusted his long collar, his smile turning bashful now.

“Oh, you.. you saw that?”

You nodded, “Yes, I did. Thank you. Also, your magic is just so pretty, they’re like little golden fireworks!”

Before Lucifer could speak, you leaned in closer to him. Your ear just barely grazing the brim of his hat as you smiled.

“And, I just wanted to let you know, I agree with you about the hotel name,” you inched closer to his face, your voice lowering as you spoke with a honeyed tone, “I have no doubt you would come up with a better name, Your Highness.” 

Lucifer tensed, and you thought you could see those red spots on his cheek darkening just a shade. 

He lowered his head slightly after that, his face mostly obscured by the brim of his hat. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but, was that an edge of a smile on his lips?

After a second, Lucifer cleared his throat, before lifting his head again.

“I’m glad we share the same appreciation for aesthetics. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.” 

“Hey, Dad? Can I, um, speak to you? About the hotel?” Charlie spoke, approaching. A firm look on her face, as if it was rather important.

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Lucifer nodded, before turning back to you, “Again, a pleasure to meet you. I hope we get to talk again.” 

Then, he did something you never expected, he curtsied. Your eyes widened, the King, showing you such a gesture of respect? All for what, doing a few tricks in the air?

Heat creeped onto your cheeks after that, and you watched him turn away, following after his daughter. Leaving you to stew about your encounter with Lucifer for the rest of the day.

Well, your thoughts on the King of Hell definitely stayed when you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that. 

Your thoughts were still there in that lobby as you sat at your desk one afternoon, your hands organizing a large stack of papers. They had a picture of the Hazbin Hotel on them, along with words that basically screamed ‘Come check us out!’

The plan was to distribute the posters around the city.  Buildings, poles, doorways, anything that could hold a staple was your target. 

You were fiddling around in your drawer, searching for extra staples when you heard it. A gentle rapping against the front doors, which made you lift your head.

There was no one else in the lobby, not even Husk. Slowly, you walked towards the doors, and the silhouette of a hat stuck out from the bottom of the stained glass.

Is that..?

Reaching to the handle, you pull it open, and met the familiar soft, yellow gaze. His lips curved into a smile at your appearance, and he lifted his hand in greeting.

“Oh! Hello, again!” 

Fuck, he was still gorgeous. Definitely an Angel, no doubt about that. His pearlescent skin practically glittered in the red hues of the afternoon light behind him, and you averted your gaze for a moment, trying not to be blinded by his ethereal beauty.

“Your highness? I’m—ahem, well, sorry. I’m just surprised to see you back so soon. What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to see Charlie, of course!” He exclaimed, strolling right past you into the lobby. His eyes scanned the room, resting for a moment disapprovingly on the bar, before landing on the large desk. 

“Is this where you work?” He motioned towards its wooden frame, you sidled up to him, before nodding.

“Yep. Hardly move from there during the day.”

“You sit there all day? Yeesh, that’s terrible.” 

“Mhm. Pretty boring, actually.”

“Well, if you ever want a better career, I’m sure I could find you a job at LuLu World, I’ve got a circus that runs year round there.”

LuLu World? The theme park he owned? You had never been there before, but it always sounded amazing. And, he thought you’d be a great fit there too. He couldn’t have been that impressed by a few of your maneuvers. Maybe, he just needed to go to an actual circus and see the real performers.

“I’d love to, but I'm kind of stuck here.”

“Why?” Lucifer turned to you, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, um—” 

‘My soul is owned by the demon you have beef with, and I can’t exactly leave without his permission. I also can’t tell you this because I apparently signed an NDA too.’

“—I just want to help people! So, I made a promise that I wouldn’t leave until I made a difference. Y’know, really make an effort to improve this wonderful community!” You responded with fake cheer, clasping your hands together.

Lucifer regarded you for a moment, his fingers fidgeting against the apple on his cane as he thought.

“Oh.. well, that’s generous of you. But, someone with your skill set doesn’t deserve to rot away in a place like this, I’m sure you’d make a difference somewhere more relevant.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Your Highness?” You teased, your nails grazing against the desk as you walked past him, before pivoting to face him.

“What? No! Of course not, just—forget I said anything.”  He chuckled nervously, before fussing with his long collar. He seemed to do that often when

Aw, he got all flustered when he thought you were serious. Who knew the embodiment of Pride had such bad self esteem.

“Charlie went out to run some errands, but she should be on her way back, actually. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”

“Chamomile Tea, if you have it?”

You nodded, before walking towards the small counter behind your desk. There was a coffee machine, a toaster, and a large, electric kettle. You placed the kettle underneath the small sink, filling it up, before switching it on and setting it down. 

It would take a little time for the water to heat, so you returned to where your visitor awaited.

Lucifer leaned against your desk slightly, his fingers mindlessly tapping at his cane, his eyes staring at the wall. There he goes again, lost in his thoughts. Which he seemed to do quite often.

Would it be rude to wake him from his stupor? You had only just met him, so maybe, don’t push your luck.

You turned your attention back onto the stack of posters, flicking through each one as you counted. You heard Lucifer shuffle beside you, before clearing his throat. 

“What are you doing?”

“Posters for the hotel. I’m going to put them up around the city later today.” You held one out to him, and he took it from your grasp. His fingers grazed yours, and you could feel the warmth seeping into your skin from just that small touch.

When he pulled his hand away, that warmth left you, and you felt that never-ending chill seep back into your bones again. It was something that followed you since you made that deal with Alastor. As if your soul was the sun, and you just got shoved down a long, dark well. 

You could only claw at the edges for so long, letting the blood from your nails drip into the standing water at your feet, before you gave up trying. You’ve been sitting in that well for a long time, allowing time to pass by.

But, for some reason, since you arrived at the hotel, you’ve begun to start digging at the cracks of that well again. Maybe, if you got your claws in deep enough, you’d find that beam of sunlight.

“Hm, the drawings seems.. a little off. Did you do this?” Lucifer dragged you out of your thoughts, as he looked at you expectantly. 

Shaking your head, you chuckled softly. “No, unfortunately, stick figures are my only language in the arts. I think Charlie drew it.”

“Did I say this drawing was off? I lied! Ha-ha, yeah, this is great work.” Lucifer quickly replied, brushing off his earlier comment.

You were going to open your mouth to respond, before you heard the loud whistling of the kettle. You turned, watching the steam pour out of its lid, and quickly ran to fetch it.

You pulled a small tea cup from its stand on the edge of the counter, before filling it full with the water from the kettle.

Reaching towards a small cupboard, your fingers sorted through the different herbal flavors as you looked for one in particular. When your eyes finally caught the light green packaging, you pulled it out.

“Hey, this might seem like an odd question, but do you like caramel?” Lucifer asked from behind you. You turned your head slightly, taking a glance at him. His nails clicked against his cane, fast and nervous as he waited.

“Yes, I do. It’s not my favorite sweet treat, but I've definitely indulged in it a few times.”

Taking a few moments as you spoke, you ripped open the package. Holding the small string in between your thumb and your index finger, you carefully placed the tea bag into the steaming water. 

“Great! I was wondering, well, I mean—you see, I made some caramel apples for Charlie. Except, she hasn’t had one of mine since she was a girl, so I just wanted someone to take a test bite before I presented it to heel

Slowly, you could see the color begin to change as the herbal goodness was dispersed in the cup. You turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised as you regarded him.

“You want me to.. try one of your apples?”

“Yes! That would be great, just to know I still got the gourmet chef in me.” He smiled, lifting up a finger right above his lips, and swirling it in the air. As if twirling a long mustache.

“Your tea, Your Majesty.” You chuckled, bending your head slightly, placing it down on the desk in front of him. When you lifted your head, you were greeted with the sight of a large, light-brown coated apple. 

“It’s not poisoned I promise.” He teased, a lopsided grin on his face as he held the treat out to you, his fingers clasped around the kabob-like stick poking out of the bottom.

Carefully, you lifted your arm, plucking the caramel apple away from his grip. When you had it between your fingers, Lucifer reached down to take the tea cup from the desk, before swirling the mix around slightly. He blew at its surface, and the liquid rippled as steam still rose from it.

He gingerly lifted it to his lips, his pinky lifting away from the handle as he did so. His eyes softened as the herbal flavoring hit his tongue, and his body seemed to relax as warmth bloomed under his skin and the drink traveled down his throat.

‘He drinks with his pinky out? That’s so cute.’ You gushed silently, never did you think the King of Hell would practice such mannerisms. But, in all honesty, he didn’t seem like he should be in Hell at all. Guess that’s what happens, when the highest powers known to man punish you for being you.

His eyes never left you as he drank, as he waited for you to take a bite. You turned the treat in your grip, inspecting it a final time. Carefully, you lifted it to your face, and took a bite of its side.

Lucifer seemed to grimace as your mouth closed against the large chunk of apple. You chewed for a moment, letting your taste buds do the work. Then, your brain short-circuited at the sensations, and your eyes lit up.

“Woa-hu-ho! This is fantastic!” You beamed, and Lucifer’s eyes widened in a look of surprise.

“Really..?”

“Yes! It’s actually really good! I think Charlie is going to love it!” You nodded briskly, taking another bite of delicacy.

“Ha, well. Guess I still got it in me after all this time.” He boasted, chest puffing just slightly at your compliments.

You obliterated that apple in front of him, taking barely a moment to breathe as you scarfed it down. God, his cooking was actually really good. What else could he make?

Lucifer only watched you, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you devour the treat. As if he was fascinated by your sudden primal hunger. 

Your eyes met his and you stopped suddenly, covering your mouth as you continued to chew. Heat flooding your cheeks in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, this is pretty rude of me..”

“No! Not at all, if I had more I'd surely give it to you,” he laughed, setting his almost-empty drink back onto the desk, “and please, call me Lucifer. There’s no need to use such titles in a private setting like this.”

Right as he spoke, the front entrance doors burst open, and Charlie and Vaggie strolled in chattering loudly. They held a few shopping bags in their hands, as they entered the lobby.

Right, so much for privacy. Couldn’t you get five more minutes with the #1 bachelor in the realm?

“Oh, Dad!” Charlie exclaimed, surprise etched on her face at seeing Lucifer standing beside you.

“Charlie!” He beamed, strolling over to her. He encompassed her into another of his signature bear hugs, and she sputtered for breath in his hold.

“Wha—gasp—what are you doing here?”

“I just came by to visit, also to take another peek at some renovations that really need to be done. Among other things.”

“Oh, okay! Let me drop this stuff off by Angel Dust, and we can do that.” Charlie smiled at her father, before turning and crossing the room to another hallway.

Lucifer watched her leave, before turning to you, his eyebrows raised as he spoke, “I assume you’ll still be sitting here the next time I stop by?” 

He wanted to see you again? Your brain couldn’t process that thought when the words left his lips.

“As always.” You smiled warmly at him, as you cleaned up the now-empty cup from the desk. You didn’t say ‘Your Majesty’ this time, but you weren’t sure whether calling your king by his real name was appropriate. At least, not yet.

“Good.” He nodded approvingly, before his back faced you and he walked out of the lobby. Your gaze lingered on the corner he had turned out of view from, before you sighed and returned to work. 

You didn’t notice those sickly red eyes watching you intensely from the shaded corner of the room, as you took a seat back at your desk. 

Days like that continued, where you’d be greeted by the soft knocking against the entrance door. And, when you opened it, you’d meet the handsome, smiling face of Lucifer.

“Good morning, I hope you’re hungry!” He’d state as he strolled past you, always stopping right next to your desk first when he came.

You made sure to save your stomach for the delicacy he always carried with him now. Usually, he’d bring two, one for Charlie, and one for you. 

“I need to make sure she’ll like this one too.” He had explained. You were apparently his official taste tester now, but you never complained.

He’d hold the treat out to you, one eyebrow raised playfully, as he presented the caramel apple like a rose.

“Now with sprinkles!” He’d exclaim as you’d gingerly take it from his grip, your fingers brushing against his. The warmth a welcome feeling to your skin.

You’d sit there, feasting on the apple in your seat as he leaned against the desk. He was very chatty, even when he still held reservations around people in general. It never bothered you, of course. It stopped you from getting so bored while you worked.

“Don’t even get me started on Mammon,” Lucifer groaned, as you told him about your most recent circus acts, “the guy will do anything to put more money in his pocket. Y’know, he thinks we’re best buddies or something, thinks that lets him plagiarize my amusement park.”

“Why don’t you tell him to shut it down?”

“Because it brings in more business,” Lucifer had shrugged, “People go there, expecting a good show, and don’t find one. So, they go to my LuLu World, and bam, they never want to leave!”

You chuckled at the name, ‘LuLu’. Yep, you were definitely speaking to the Sin of Pride, alright.

“What’s so funny?” He had asked, curious at your reaction. You straightened yourself, a lop-sided smile on your lips when you realized he caught your laugh.

“Nothing it’s just.. ‘LuLu World’? There had to be something better you could have called it.”

Lucifer gasped, placing a hand on his heart, feigning hurt. “Woah, woah. First, you say I'm good with names, and now you’re laughing at them? Dirty.” 

“Oh, I'm so sorry. Please, good sir, don’t smite me!” You mocked a pain expression, clasping your hands together in a gesture of begging.

“I will allow you to live for now. Can’t have the hotel going into shambles because you’re not here to keep it running.” Lucifer’s voice deepened as he fixed his posture into a much more royal stance. As if he was speaking to a lowly squire in court.

‘I barely do anything around here, but thanks for the confidence boost.’ you’d answer silently, as you leaned back in your chair, watching his antics with amusement.

You began to anticipate his arrival with excitement. Even pouring his tea beforehand, so when he walked through those doors, you’d place a steaming cup into his palms. You always enjoyed the way his eyes softened when he took his first sip.

Hell, you enjoyed.. everything about him. His smile, his jokes, the care he had for his daughter, even if he had a hard time showing it. He made you smile, which was something you haven’t done willingly in a long time. 

And, his smile? That real, true look of happiness that blossomed on his face? That slowly began to return as well. 

For a few months, everything was dandy. Until, one evening, when Alastor summoned you to his room.

He never did that, and that made you nervous.

You stood at the closed door to his room, your heart pounding in your chest. What did he want? Did you do something wrong? Your thoughts just couldn’t still as you fidgeted nervously.

Slowly, you lifted your knuckles to the door. Before you could even graze the wooden surface, the door swung open. It creaked loudly as it did so, and your breath hitched as you began to glimpse inside.

You poked your head in, your eyes scanning across the room. The decorations were so outdated, it almost made you gag. Skeletons of an alligator hung on the wall, its eyes glowing from the string of lights wrapped around its figure.

A large shelf of books, mostly for cooking, stood out against a small wooden table. A small radio sat snug on the desk, playing a gentle jazz tune. On the opposite side of the room, was where that freaky abyss lay. You had never stepped foot there, the part of the room that simply seemed to dissolve into a dark, swampy land. 

Then, you heard humming. Staticy, soft humming, coming from the left side of the room.

Alastor stood over a bloody cutting board, a large kitchen knife in his hand. He wore an apron that was spattered with blood, his usual overcoat was gone, replaced by a dark red tuxedo underneath and a—surprisingly—clean white dress shirt.

He hummed along in sync with the music wafting from the speaker, as he continued to slice along the large slab of meat on the counter. You couldn’t dare think what the flesh used to be as you slipped through the crack, shutting the door softly behind you.

It didn’t seem like he knew you were standing there awkwardly by the door, but you knew he did. How long was he going to have you wait?

Clearing your throat, you spoke softly, “you wanted to see me, Alastor?”

“Ah, hello there, my friend!” He pivoted sharply, his tone chipper as he smiled at you. The knife was still in his grip, and he swirled it in the air playfully. “How are you doing on this fine, hellish evening?”

“Fine..”

“Wonderful! I called you here today because there is something I’ve wanted to discuss with you for some time. You see, I've taken notice that you and our ever-so charming King of Hell have been growing closer these past few months.”

This is what he wanted to talk about? You fought to not roll your eyes at that. 

“Let me guess, you want me to stop talking to him?”

Alastor giggled at that, a maniacal fit of he-he’s as he forcefully stabbed the knife into the slab of flesh. It stuck out like a grim warning, as he brushed his hands against his apron before removing it entirely. 

“On the contrary,” he spoke as he hung the apron against a dining chair, “I want you to get closer to him.”

You blinked, leaning your head back slightly as you processed his words.

“Wait, what?”

Alastor nodded, confirming that you didn’t just hallucinate that. He slowly walked forward, before placing a hand on your shoulder as he moved behind you.

“You see, I believe it’s in both our best interests to forge a deeper connection with our illustrious King. There are certain… opportunities that may arise from such a relationship.”

“Opportunities? What kind of opportunities are we talking about here?”

“Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Let’s just say that there are benefits to being in the King’s inner circle. Power, influence, the chance to shape Hell itself… But I’ve said too much already. Just trust me on this one, my dear.”

Trust Alastor? Ha! That was the first joke he’s ever spoken to you that was actually funny. 

Your thoughts raced as he appeared on your other side, his claw grazing across the back of your neck as he rested his hand on your shoulder once more. 

He wanted you to what, fake your attraction to Lucifer? Wanted you to lie and manipulate him so he’d bend to your will, and carry out Alastor’s evil deeds in the guise of caring for you?

“What makes you think he’d even fall for that? He’s an angel, he’s not stupid.”

Alastor chuckled, patting your shoulder as his grin widened. “Haven’t you noticed the change in his demeanor? The little.. pep in his step? Ever since he met you that first day, he’s only grown more attached to you.”

Was that true? Sure, Lucifer seemed to be getting better, slowly. Seemed to smile more genuine as time went on. But, that couldn’t be because of you! He was reconnecting with his daughter, of course he’d be happier at the hotel.

It didn't matter, in the end. You weren’t going to do that to Lucifer. You weren’t going to ruin the one relationship that was built by trust. The question is, could you resist Alastor?

“What if I don’t want to?” You finally ground out, your firsts clenching at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt a chill around your neck, and you gasped at the sensation. You lifted one hand up, to try and feel whatever was clenching at your throat.

Your fingers wrapped around a green, metal collar that seemed to tighten as the seconds ticked by. Energy sizzled against your fingertips, like static. Eyes widening, you ripped your hand away, your feet moving on instinct to get away from him.

Your back hit the wall roughly, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you watched Alastor slowly stalk towards you. His eyes began to shift, resembling that of radio dials. Those small antlers on his head began to rapidly branch out, growing longer every step he took.

“What if you don’t want to? My, what a foolish question.”

He was just inches from your face, that toothy smile practically ear to ear as he leaned in. Lifting a hand, his claws grazed your collar bone, before traveling up towards the glowing green clasp.

A single claw hooked underneath the metal surface, pushing roughly against your throat as he tugged you harshly forward by it. 

His breath hit your face, and you scrunch your nose from the foul odor. He reeked of death.

“It seems you have forgotten who owns your soul, my dear.” He whispered in your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip quivering as he spoke.

“If you try to resist, try to fight against your chains. I’ll make sure my radio broadcast is filled with nothing but your dying screams.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the collar only becoming colder as you writhed slightly against his touch.

“I-I’m sorr-“

“You sold your soul to me, don’t forget. If there is anyone to blame for your misfortune, it is you alone.” Alastor hissed, thrusting you even closer to him by your collar. You felt his smile crease brush against your skin, and you shivered.

You were becoming increasingly aware how sickly-yellow his teeth were, compared to Lucifer’s. Disgust began to boil in your belly as you opened your mouth.

“I’ll do it!” You whimpered, your heart pounding, “I’ll do it..”

“Wonderful.” He drawled, before leaning away from you. His claw released your collar, and it dissolved in green fog. You coughed, rubbing your neck, as Alastor took your shoulder and roughly nudged you to the door. 

It opened on its own, and you were pushed through the threshold. 

“I’m glad we could have this little chat,” Alastor’s chipper tone returned, as you stared at him with disgust, “Have a hellish rest of your day, my friend!”

The door slammed shut as he disappeared back into his room. Leaving a rush of angry tears to pool at your feet alone.

Two weeks had passed, since Alastor told you to tug the heartstrings of the King of Hell, to play him right into your fraud-loving palms. Oh, the universe must surely hate you.

You had begun to avoid Lucifer, though. Whenever he was around, catching you at work, you’d continue your silly little chats. You began to memorize the timeframe he’d show up to the hotel, and make some kind of excuse to not be there when he knocked. Either you were out shopping for supplies, or seeing the latest movie. Anything you could think of, you’d leave and force Husker to greet Lucifer.

The guilt of knowing what would happen if Lucifer fell in love with you? It ate you up inside. You hardly slept lately, tossing and turning with terrible nightmares of drowning in that cold, dark, bottomless well. The chains tied to your feet, preventing your escape to the surface.

Would anyone care if you just let yourself sink to the bottom? 

Those thoughts were still on your mind as you did your morning jumping jacks.

You had asked Charlie to use one of her empty storage rooms as a place to practice your acrobatics, which you had started doing every night now. It was any easy escape from your troubles, on the farthest side of the hotel from the lobby, where no one could bother you.

It was a large room, with ceiling-high windows that lit the room with a light red hue. You had convinced Alastor to give you a makeshift gym as a part of your “deal”. If you were going to be forced to be the bad guy, he could at least give you a place to kick ass.

There were multiple gymnastic bars set up at different heights, two balance beams, and a small-scale tightrope. The tightrope was a thick wire connected between two poles across one side of the room, roughly the size of your torso. There was a platform attached to each pole, allowing good foot room on each side of the wire.

Tonight, you were practicing walking on your hands across the balance beam. Sweat dripped from your forehead, and you watched it land onto the leathery cover of the beam beneath you. 

You had made it halfway across, when you heard the door to the room open softly. 

“I didn’t even know there were rooms back here!” An astonished, familiar voice came from the doorway. 

What was Lucifer doing here?!

Your brain short-circuited, and your arms began to wobble beneath you. You lost your balance, and  immediately tumbled off the balance beam with a breathless “Fuck!”

Your side hit the mats below, pain bloomed from your shoulder as you lay there in defeat. You heard a high pitched yelp from behind you, and the sounds of feet pattering against the floor neared.

“You’re not dead, are you?” Lucifer laughed nervously as he kneeled beside you. He reached a hand down to your face, before he hesitated, and instead lifted his cane.

You felt soft poking against your cheek, as he prodded you with the black stick. 

“Stop that.” You grumbled into the mat, stirring slightly from the floor.

“Oh, you’re not dead! What a relief.” He said, exhaling a breath he had been holding. “I’m terribly sorry about that! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You groaned, before lifting yourself up from the mat. You got to your feet, rubbing your shoulder tenderly.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. What are you doing here, though?” 

Lucifer processed your question for a moment, before he suddenly straightened himself up. Head held high, he strutted over to you, before halting. He glanced at you, before he began fussing with his bow-tie nonchalantly.

“Well, I came to find you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, I wanted to speak with you. And, you’re conveniently always out of the room when I want to do that.”

Shit. Did he notice you were avoiding him? You didn’t think it was that obvious.

Lucifer watched you intensely, analyzing your reaction to his accusatory statement. He had a firm line on his lips, as if your actions didn’t bother him. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” 

“Oh, really?”

“I came here to improve my aerobatics, before you rudely interrupted me.”

“Right, like you need to improve.”

You turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re already good at it, there’s no reason for you to come here every day.”

He turned his head to face you as he spoke, and your eyes caught sight of something wiggling slightly on the top of his head. Is that apple decoration not fully attached to his hat?

Suddenly, you had an idea. A playful smile began to bloom on your lips, as you slowly made your way towards him. 

“Actually, that’s not true. I’m not that good at tightrope walking, I’ve told you that before.”

Right before he turned his head so he could trace your movements, you shot your arm above his hat, your fingers pinching around the small apple stem.

You sharply pivoted, facing him now as you walked backwards towards the tightrope platform. The apple hung behind your back, as you kept his gaze. 

“Buuut, I think I’m much better at it than you.”

“Excuse me?”

You turned to face the platform, moving your arm fluidly and taking the stem between your teeth, before lifting yourself on the white surface. 

Gripping the apple once more, you turn to him slowly, watching his eyes widen as you swing the apple between your fingers for his viewing pleasure.

“Actually, I think I'm better at this whole circus bizz than you. Look! I’m a magician even, would you like to see another trick, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer stood there in shock, for a few moments. His red pupils darted from the swiped apple to you, before they dilated slightly. Then, he laughed, an audible ‘Ha ha!’ at your words. 

“You think you’re better at the circus than me?” Lucifer asked slowly, a mixture of disbelief and teasing in his tone.

“Without a doubt!” You called, turning to face the wire. Not giving him a second glance, a smug smile formed on your lips.

Lucifer regarded you a moment, before a mischievous grin played on his face. “Well, let’s prove it then.” 

He lifted his cane, before tapping it against the ground twice. Suddenly, you found the platform vibrating underneath your feet. Then, it began to move. You stumbled, and then fell to your knees, gripping the edges as you squeezed your eyes shut.

What the hell was happening?!

The support pole began to rise up, and up, and up, until it barely grazed against the ceiling. Slowly, you opened one eyelid, and then the other. You were still safe, clutching to the platform. The tightrope was still holding, connected to the pole across the room. 

You exhaled a side of relief, before crawling over to the edge. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise as you judged the distance to the ground, you were roughly three stories in the air!

Did.. Lucifer do that? He took “prove it” to a whole new level with this one. 

You got back onto your feet, the apple still in your palm as you placed your other hand against the support beam. Now, where was Lucifer? Did he stick you up here to starve to death?

“Hey.”

You jumped, reeling back from the voice, right towards the edge of the platform.

“Woah—hang on there now!” Lucifer quickly reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you back to the center of the stand. You blinked, slowing your heart beat, as you stared in surprise.

“Lucifer? How did you get up here?”

“I can fly, remember?” 

That’s right, he did have wings. You just didn’t think he was that fast with them. Lucifer had also completely ditched his hat and overcoat, instead he was in his red and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to partially expose his forearms. 

His hair was slightly disheveled, no doubt from the flight up here. It wasn’t as slicked back as before, small strands of hair sticking out messily. You thought that was adorable.

Lucifer looked down, before smiling sheepishly and withdrawing his hand from your wrist. He brushed his fingers down your hand, his nails gently grazing against your palms.

This time, you didn’t feel the cool sensation from his gold ring against your skin, as his pinky lifted from your hand.

“Now, are you going to walk across that wire, or are you going to just give me back my apple?”

You met his eyes, his gaze playful as he smirked at you. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. Slowly, your heel hit the wire, and you halted. 

Lucifer watched you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. He probably assumed you’d turn around to cross the wire, and he’d nab the apple from behind your back.

Too bad for the King of Hell, you could walk on a tightrope backwards. You winked at him, as your feet moved fully onto the wire. You pivoted slightly every so often, your body fluidly leaning back and forth as you adjusted for balance.

Lucifer watched you, admiration in his eyes as you maneuvered your way down the tightrope. You pulled the apple from behind you, teasing it in front of his view.

“The big question is, how do you think you’re going to best me in those heels, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer glanced down at his knee-high boots, before slowly peeling them off his feet. He placed them neatly to the side, before moving a foot to the wire.

He began to put his weight onto the tightrope, wobbling a little as he adjusted for balance. He definitely did not do this often, and you laughed softly at his failing posture.

Lucifer huffed, glancing at you, who was still moving a reasonable distance away from him. Then, a smirk played on his lips, and you saw forms begin to appear against his back. 

The red feathers of his wing’s underbelly began to glimmer in the light from the large windows behind you, as he slowly opened them to full length.

Six ethereal, majestic wings flapped gracefully behind him. They began to pivot slightly, adjusting for Lucifer’s balance much quicker and with ease.

“That is so dirty!” You laughed at him, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“Looks like I'm going to getcha!” He teased, as he began to take much more confident steps across the wire; his wings flapping softly, boosting his speed.

You took bigger, riskier steps as you closed in on the other platform. Your heartbeat racing from the challenge, adrenaline beginning to pump in your veins.

“What happens if I eat this apple?” You asked, holding up the apple to your nose, before taking a deep sniff. Licking your lips playfully, you glanced back up to Lucifer.

“A tummy ache, I'm afraid. But, hey, I'll trade you a caramel apple for that one.”

Your stomach grumbled at that, and you genuinely licked your lips at his words.

“I might consider that proposition, if you can catch up to me that is.”

You spun on your heel, facing the base of the pole, as you began to increase your pace.

It wasn’t until you felt the wire jerk under your feet, did you begin to wobble. With a hitched breath, you try to regain your balance, but to no avail.

Your foot slips, and you feel your body beginning to lean off too far to the side. Gasping in surprise, you flail your arms hoping to catch anything in your grip to stop your fall.

Right as you begin to free fall, you feel strong arms snake around yours and grip you firmly. 

“Hang on, I got you!” Lucifer practically spoke in your ear as he pulled you forward, back up onto the wire. You breathe heavily, clutching his forearms tightly as you lean in closer, catching your breath.

Large wings flapping stronger now, Lucifer held you close as you both balanced along the same small portion of the tightrope. You felt his hot breath on your face, and realized how close the two of you actually were.

Your chest was practically against his cute little bow-tie, your legs brushing against each other as you balanced on the tiny surface. The steady wing beats of the fallen angel sent wind softly grazing past your ears, cooling the heat that was beginning to creep onto your cheeks.

He was so close, and so fucking gorgeous. Forget what Alastor wanted to do, what you wanted to do was kiss this man silly. For months, you both danced at the edge of each other's hearts. Gifts of affection, words of compassion, the whole shebang. 

Yet, you’ve never looked the King in the eye and told him ‘I want you.’

Was it because you were stubbornly fighting against Alastor’s demands, that you even ignored your own true feelings? Just to spite the powerful cannibal?

Couldn’t you just look at a sexy man in peace, without anyone else watching your every move?

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asked after a moment, pulling you from your ogling.

“You saved me..” You finally breathed, eyes wide and you met his soft gaze.

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I—”

Lucifer’s words caught in his mouth as you pressed your lips to his. He froze at the touch initially, but it only took a moment for his entire body to soften against yours. 

His hands found his way to your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. Your fingers reached up, and you began to caress the sides of his face, twirling a few pieces of hair between your pinkies as you deepened the kiss.

The warmth that bloomed from his touch was intoxicating, your entire being craving for more as you leaned even farther into his embrace. 

His hands moved from your waist, until they brushed underneath your shirt. His palms coming up to cup the small of your back as he pressed you closer to him, as if worried you might dissipate into the air and leave him forever.

It was a good thing he had six wings to keep the two of you afloat, or else you would have been a splatter on the mats by now.

You felt Lucifer's teeth graze against your lip, and you had to fight to not bite his lip back. After a few more moments, you pulled away from his face, your breath coming out ragged as you gave him some distance. 

Lucifer blinked a few times, his eyebrows beginning to raise slowly as a dopey smile danced onto his lips.

“I really enjoyed that, but we should probably get on solid ground, don't you think?” He laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked at you adoringly.

You reached up, brushing the few loose strands out of his eyes, before nodding. “That is a good idea.” 

“Well, just hang on.” Lucifer replied with a mischievous grin, and you opened your mouth to question him. Before you could get a word out, you felt him begin to lean backwards, pulling you along with him. 

You yelped and squeezed your eyes shut, as you began to free fall on top of him. Lucifer only hugged you closer, before his wings shot open, slowing your descent. 

Carefully, you peeled your eyelids open to the two of you gliding softly down, as Lucifer circled the pole lazily. Your feet swung in the air, and the wind rushed past your ears. The adrenaline rush causing you to laugh in glee as you felt your feet hit a hard surface.

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, the weight of what just transpired finally settling on top of you. 

Holy shit, you just kissed the King of Hell! From trying to stay as far away from him, to getting as close as physically possible. What a twist.

“Well, now that we’re down here,” Lucifer began slowly, his gaze meeting yours with a playful roll of his eyebrows, “we could continue our previous.. discussion.” 

You almost obliged, until you heard the familiar call of Charlie, as she searched for her father. You tensed in his grip, before pulling away from his hold. A pout formed on Lucifer’s lips at the absence of your touch, before he straightened himself. 

Snapping his fingers, that familiar white overcoat magically materialized onto his figure, along with his wide brim hat. Your eyes landed onto that spot where the missing apple usually was, and then you noticed how empty both your hands were.

“Your apple! I think I dropped it when I almost fell.” You explain apologetically.

“Oh, you mean this apple?”

Lucifer pulled the red, gleaming trophy from beneath his overcoat. He threw it in the air a few times, catching it gracefully. A silent boast as he grinned at you. Your mouth only hung agape, as you scanned the apple for any imperfections.

“There is no way you took that from me! How do I know you didn’t just make that?”

“Woah! Sounds like someone is a sore loser.” Lucifer laughed, before turning towards the door, he kept his gaze on yours as he did so, walking backwards as he talked.

Slowly, you kept pace with him, shaking your head in disbelief at his words. He was just as preoccupied as you, sucking on your face, you couldn’t believe he actually took it from you in the chaos.

“At least we settled the little debate, hm? Seems like i’m better at these kinds of things than you. Just like I said.”

“We’ll definitely come back and test that theory with your wings bound this time.”

“Oh, will we? Is that a challenge?”

Lucifer halted at the doorway, and you stopped a few footsteps away. You batted your eyelashes at him, grinning playfully, “it’s a promise, actually.” 

He grinned at that, before he leaned in closer, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“So, you haven’t been avoiding me, then?” 

‘Not this again.’ You groaned internally.

“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.” You quickly spoke, an apologetic look on your face. Would he buy your lie?

“And you’ll tell me when something is wrong, right?” 

You cracked him an assuring smile, “of course!” You lied through pearly-white teeth. 

Lucifer nodded approvingly at that, before he glanced out of the room. You both could hear Charlie a hallway or two away, and she seemed frantic to find her father. Lucifer only sighed, before turning to you.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you real soon, Darling.” He promised, bowing his head slightly to you. You wanted to scold him for that, about lowering his head to someone of lower class, if he did that in public no doubt the citizens of Hell would mock him for it.

But, you weren’t in public. You were alone, with someone you cherished, able to whisper all your secrets, hopes, and dreams to someone you trusted most. If only you could tell him the truth, and not be stuck here drowning in your own lies.

Lucifer gave you one final glance, before he turned away, strolling through the hall away from your room. A happy whistle came from his lips, and you could hear it slowly fading as he moved away.

Backing up, you plopped down on a bench on the side of the room. The recent events hit you like a freight train, and you realized how terribly stupid you were.

How were you supposed to protect Lucifer from whatever plan Alastor had in store for him, if you were going to keep disregarding your brain for your weak little heart? 

Yes, Lucifer was the most powerful being in Hell, far more powerful than that red demon. But, he was also a sad, lonely angel. Who craved affection and attention, which he seemed to want solely from you and Charlie. 

If your life were in danger, would he be stupid and risk his own for you? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Your filthy, sinning soulless self wasn’t worth the trouble.

You just wish Lucifer would see that. 

For an hour, you paced the perimeter of the room. Your thoughts clear as you evaluated all the metaphorical cards in your hand. If Husk taught you anything about gambling, it was always to call your opponents bluff before he had a chance to do it to you.

Your feet halted suddenly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you stared through the large windows. Your thoughts settling as you watched the waning light.

You weren’t some pushover, some scared little child in need of protection. You weren’t going to let some murderous psychopath take any more control of your life. You were going to call the shots this time, even if that meant being dragged by the throat into that well.

As long as everyone you cared about, even Husker, made it out.

There was only one plan of action you saw ahead. And, it was not going to be the easy route.

“I’m done.” 

Alastor halted, the wall sconces in the hallway illuminating his sharp grin as he heard the words leave your lips. It had been four days since you decided you were going to stand against him.

“Pardon?” The words left his lips slowly, his head cracking in-humanely to one side, his ears twisting to face you. 

“I said I’m done deceiving for you. I’m not going to lie to Lucifer, or anyone else, for any longer.”

Alastor didn’t say anything, his back still turned to you. His claws tapped against his microphone, rhythmic and loud as he processed your words.

“Is that so?” 

“Yes, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. There’s more to the world than power, Alastor.”

You felt something cold tugging against your neck, that familiar, sickening sensation returning to your body. You sucked in a large breath, calming your rapid heartbeat. 

Green illuminated your face as you felt something heavy begin to weigh on your body. Alastor held one of his hands out, before flicking his wrist with a painful pop sound. 

The chain snapped forward from the collar around your throat, snaking around your figure as it wove to Alastor’s palm, its green glow casting eerie shadows against the walls. You struggled against its hold, feeling the cold, metallic links digging into your skin. Alastor's laughter echoed through the hallway, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"You dare defy me?" Alastor's voice was low, dangerous. "You forget your place, little puppet."

Panic surged through you as you fought against the chain, but it only tightened its hold, squeezing the air from your lungs. You gasped for breath, your vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume you.

"Perhaps a reminder is in order," Alastor said, his tone dripping with malice. "A lesson in obedience."

“Don’t you have any more tricks in the book than this fucking chain?” You growled between gasps, the back of your head sliding against the floor as you twisted against its metal grasp. “C’mon Al, this is just embarrassing.”

Immediately, his face contorted into a look into a large, crooked smile. His eyes shifted to resemble radio dials, as he harshly yanked you towards him. Your cheek slid across the carpet, and you felt the sting of rug burn bloom across your face.

‘Don’t let him see you scared, don’t let him win.’ You begged yourself internally, as you held your tears back. 

Alastor’s face began to change, his features sharpening drastically, that crooked smile growing all the more larger. His antlers branched farther from his head, gnarling together in twisting designs above his ears. 

Even his hair began to stand on end, as he stalked closer to you. Shadows enveloped the hall, like a fog rolling in. Obscuring the sight of your eventual corpse, as Alastor wrapped the chain around his arm, keeping it taut as he closed in.

“The only embarrassment,” He started, his voice flickering into pure static at his rage, “will be how fast it takes for your s̴͔̓̌̍ç̵̯̮͍͆̿r̷̼̥̿̒̊̐e̸͙̣̯͛̽̒a̷͈̼͗ͅm̵̮͑͛͆s̴̻͊̽̑ to die on your t̸̝͓̆͌͝ö̷̻͚̩̎͊n̸̨̘̭͍̕g̵̱̝͍̈́͛̍ͅû̶̞̼̲͜é̴̺, when I rip your h̷̟̣͚̅̏̔̚͜ë̵̺͙́́a̶͉͙̤͆͋r̶̼̈́͝t̴͙̯̕ out of your throat.”

Archaic symbols danced your vision as Alastor’s entire body seemed to contort into jagged edges, his arms and legs doubling in length, as his hunched back hit the ceiling of the hallway. His crooked neck lowered, his head itching closer. One claw coming out to hook  underneath you collar, pulling you up by the neck. 

“What will our dear King do then, when he finds your mangled body on his front door?” 

You snarled, trying to tear away from his grip. How dare he still try and bring Lucifer into this, even when the fallen angel could pulverize him in an instant. Couldn’t he face you one to one? 

The Radio Demon’s eyes flickered a darker red, and you feel the collar begin to tighten around your throat, squeezing the breath from your airways. You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes as you clawed at your neck in a poor attempt to stop the sensation.

“Alastor? Is everything alright over there?” 

Suddenly, the squeezing at your throat dispersed like fog, as the collar and chain vanished into thin air. You were left on the floor, sputtering for breath, as Alastor quickly pivoted towards the voice. His body instantly shifted back to normal, with quiet pops and clicks as his joints squeezed back into place.

It was Vaggie, coming down the hall, her eye staring suspiciously at his shaded form. 

Clutching your bruising throat, you stumble onto your feet. Your back hits the wall, and you use it for support to catch your breath.

Alastor straightened his suit, his expression morphing into its usual grin as if nothing had happened. “Oh, everything’s just dandy, Vaggie. Just having a delightful little chat with our friend here.” He gestured casually toward you, his tone dripping with false cheerfulness. “Isn’t that right?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with an unknown expression.

“Yeah—cough—sorry, just choked on the water I was drinking.”

“Right. Listen, Alastor, I wanted to talk to you in private. If that’s okay with you.” Vaggie said, gesturing down the hall.

“Of course, it’s always a pleasure speaking with you, my dear!” You didn’t miss the way Alastor’s eye twitched, as if he was not thrilled about having to leave. But, he was deceiving everyone else, too. Which meant he had to play his little part to a T.

“I’m just.. going to go. I’m not feeling so well.” You muttered to the pair, before darting around the corner, out of sight. 

You ran to your room, slamming your door behind you. Your back hit its frame, before slowly sliding down until your bottom hit the carpet. Tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, as you continued to rub your neck.

Fuck. Why were you so powerless?! If only you had even a sliver of magic in you, you could have defied him better. Now, what was Alastor going to do? 

‘What did you expect?’ A part of your mind hissed scoldingly, ‘You just tried to fight the demon that owns your soul, and got your ass handed to you.’

You growled, rising to your feet. Frustration, sadness, pain, everything seeped out of you, and you felt like killing someone in that moment.

“It’s better—”

You picked up a spare shoe from the ground, your nails digging into it as you bared your teeth. Swinging it behind you, you vaulted it towards the opposite wall.

“—than doing nothing at all!” 

You heard glass shattering, and watched shards spill from the mirror above your dresser. You could see your face, partially obscured in its remaining reflection. You could see the slight purple marks around your neck, see the tears spilling from your cheeks.. see that dark look on your features, like you actually would kill somebody.

Reeling back, you placed your knuckles to your lips. Maybe, to stop that lip from quivering so violently. That face in the mirror reminded you of everything you hated about this wretched place.

And, now, you were becoming just like him. You stepped backwards, trying to distance yourself from the reflection, before the back of your legs hit the side of your bed, and you sank into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into a ball as you sobbed the frustration out of you.

You could still feel the dark magic sizzling against your neck, as if it refused to release you of its hold just yet.

It wasn’t until you heard soft rapping of knuckles against glass did you lift your head. Turning towards the balcony doors, your eyes widen at the sight of the familiar figure standing outside. His silhouette illuminated by the dark red hues of the evening light, as he waved through the frosted glass.

“I see you over there! Can you let me in for a moment?” 

What was Lucifer doing here?! This was terrible timing for him to make an appearance! But, he knows you're there, can see your silhouette through the glass as you sit there on the bed. You sighed, quickly cleaning your face of tears, and taking a few deep breaths.

“Come in.” You called hoarsely, cracking the best smile you could muster.

The glass doors slowly pushed out of them, and Lucifer quietly shimmied through the cracks. He pivoted to face you, a large smile on his lips as he squinted at you through the darkness of your room.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to leave and then I remembered I never gave you your caramel apple!” 

Lucifer began to stroll forward, your face becoming less obscured in the shadows as he closed in. You tried to shrink away slightly, turning your knees away from him so he couldn’t see them quivering slightly.

“I put a layer of chocolate on it too, and so—wait, why are you crying?” His gaze intensified, as your face finally illuminated in the light.

“I-it’s nothing! I just had something in my eye!” You lied, cracking a wider smile.

“What are those marks on your neck?” Lucifer ignored your excuse, as he stalked closer to you. His eyes constantly scanning your figure looking for any more oddities. 

“Please, Lucifer.. I’m just tired and-”

“What is this?”

Lucifer had asked, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. Something more than the small purple marks.

You began to rub your thumbs together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch. 

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace. 

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he yanked a long, thin chain from your figure, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. As he stepped backwards, it only dragged across the floor, still connected to your neck as it lengthened.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death. 

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind soul and rip it away from its owner. 

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that. 

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused him to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him. 

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment. 

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making? 

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved. 

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly. 

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity. 

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact. 

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back. 

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are. 

Lucifer’s feet carried him back to the lobby, his eyes glowing as he noticed the cat-demon, Husk, cleaning glasses behind the bar. He sharply turned in his direction, surely, this other being 

“You, bartender.” Lucifer hissed, as he lifted himself up onto the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. Acting as if only wanting to have a friendly chat with the demon. His claws extended slightly, as they tapped impatiently against the countertop. 

Husker looked up from the glass in his hands, his eyes bored and his mouth a thin line as he worked. It wasn’t until he saw Lucifer’s deadly expression did he drop the glass immediately, ears slightly pinned to his head, before straightening his back to address the king.

“I-uh, how can I help you, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer’s lips upturned into a lopsided grin, those sharp teeth on full display. That’s right, some people have to remember exactly who they are dealing with.

“Where is your master?”

Husk paused, regarding Lucifer for a moment with an eyebrow raised. He was very aware of the tension between the two powerful demons, but he didn’t expect the King of Hell would go looking for Alastor.

“I’m not sure, sir. You could bring it up with Charlie when she gets back, I’m sure she knows more than little ol’ me.” 

Lucifer grimaced slightly at that. Of all the people in the hotel, his daughter was the last one he’d want to bring into this whole debacle.

“There’s got to be something you must know, bartender. He owns your soul too, does he not?”

“What, you think I keep track of the guy or something?” 

“No, but you should,” Lucifer snarled, leaning over the counter, causing Husk to reel back slightly, “it’s clear no one here keeps eyes on that filth, enough to stop him from hurting people in this very hotel.”

Husk seemed to deflate at that. Those long, feathery eyebrows of his lowering slightly as an unreadable expression crossed his face. He set the glass down, before sharply turning away from Lucifer.

“He’s usually in his room, by now,” Husk spoke quietly after a moment, “down the left hall, last door on the right. Ya can’t miss it.”

Lucifer didn’t give thanks, instead he tapped his cane at his side, and golden waves circled around him. In an instant, the King was gone, a few pieces of gold dust landing softly against the barstool. 

“Asshole.” Husk muttered, before popping open a bottle of liquor and lifting it to his lips.

Lucifer opened his eyes to see a large door in front of his face, green symbols glittered against its frame, etched into the wood with practiced precision.

Only Lucifer could see them, though. Only powerful wielders of such a force could see these runes. Magical spells, cast upon the room. Protection, defense, muffling, everything an evil guy could dream of.

Although, the demon’s magic was strange. Unfamiler, even. Seems like he’s been dabbling in a new form of sorcery.

Lucifer stood there, for a few moments. He didn’t knock at the door, or jiggle the handle. The Radio Demon was not the one in control here, so he simply waited impatiently for an answer.

“I know you’re in there, you rat.” Lucifer hissed, the horns poking from his head continuing to rise. “I know you can hear me. Why don’t you do us both a favor and show yourself, or are you too much of a coward now?” 

Slowly, the door to Alastor’s room creaked open. The interior obscured by thick shadows, with soft lights flickering from the edges of the room as Lucifer continued to stand there.

“Your Majesty!” A cheerful voice called from the shadows of the room, and Lucifer bared his teeth at the tone. “What an honor to have someone like you gracing my presence. Please, come in!”

Lifting his head high again, Lucifer took a confident step into the room. He had every right to be, even in the demon’s own abode, the King’s powers were unmatched. 

Lucifer’s lips curled into a sneer at the saccharine greeting. “Save the pleasantries, rat. We both know why I’m here.”

As Lucifer stepped further into the room, the door behind him remained wide open, the light from the hallway illuminating the King’s figure. Alastor’s silhouette still danced within the shadows, the glow of his red eyes illuminating the space as he carefully followed the King’s movements.

“Ah, but do we really, Your Majesty? Enlighten me.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “You have an uncanny knack to create suffering with everything you touch. Now, you pull the strings of innocent lives. Do you thirst for power that fucking badly, to make a deal for someone’s soul?”

“They made a deal on their own whim,” Alastor retorted, waving his hands in a sweeping motion, brushing off the accusation, “How could I say no to such an offer? I’m a demon, if you can recall.”

The lights in the room began to flicker with renewed life, and Alastor’s sharp grin only made the fallen angel want to tear it from his face.

“Demons like you deserve to be ground into dust.” Lucifer snarled, closing the distance between the two. He lifted his head, meeting Alastor’s piercing gaze. His claws wrapped around the Radio Demon’s black bow tie, and he harshly tugged him down to his eye level.

Alastor stared at the grip with a deathly silence, his face contorting into sharper features, his pupils taking the dialed form once more. 

Energy crackled in the room, a mix of both demon’s powers as the tension only continued to escalate. Alastor didn’t move from the hold, he knew better than to test that fate. 

The lines above Lucifer’s lips scrunching as he stared at the demon with disgust. “You steal the souls of those weaker than you to fill that emptiness in your own, it’s pathetic.”

“Maybe.” Alastor shrugged nonchalantly, before a green spark sizzled against his bow-tie, and it limply fell from his clothing in Lucifer grip. He turned away, stalking towards the cutting board on the counter.

“Don’t walk away from me, you freak. Lest I do everyone in this hotel a favor and remove you from existence right here.”

A dark chuckle bounced against the walls, filling the room as Alastor kept his back to Lucifer. “Ah, but if you kill me, they die too. Souls entwined with each other, you see. Such a dilemma, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucifer gritted his teeth, cursing his oversight. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Alastor’s voice took on a sly tone. “But fear not, Your Majesty. I’m not without mercy. I understand the affection you hold for such a.. charming demon.”

Lucifer’s gaze hardened, suspicion clouding his features. “What do you want?”

“Why don’t we.. make a d̴̻͉̺̆è̴̛͎̟̖̻͐a̵̭̫͆͆̽l̸͓͍̽̆̀̕?” Alastor’s tone crackled with static, as he spun to face the fallen angel. His head tilting curiously to one side, watching Lucifer’s expression.

Lucifer laughed, an audible ha-ha as the words left Alastor’s lips. He twisted his cane between his fingers, his claws leaving small etched lines trailing behind his movements.

“A deal with you? Do you actually expect me to give you my soul?”

Alastor’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, not your soul, silly! It’s nothing too extravagant. Just a little exchange of power. After all, what’s a deal between demons?”

“And, what exactly does this deal entail?”

Alastor paused for a moment, his intense gaze never leaving. “I have.. a few affairs I never got to settle when I died. I’d like to be able to return to that filthy place, whenever and wherever I want.”

“That’s it?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his head leaning back slightly as he processed the demon’s words. “You want access to the human realm? You’re standing before the King of Hell! Why not simply ask for my title?”

Damnit, Lucifer, is it really the time to get your pride twisted?

“Oh, I couldn’t be bothered to bare such responsibilities of a king. I’d take your strength in a heartbeat though, but we both know you aren’t powerful enough to bless me with such a gift.”

The mockery in Alastor’s tone of the fallen angels' lack of heavenly abilities, spurred Lucifer. Who’s horns were fully out for view now, that small fire licking hungrily between them.

“Well? What is it going to be, Your Majesty?” Alastor hummed, his nails clicking against the countertop. “Do you want their soul or not?”

A demon like Alastor, being granted the ability to leap from the realms? It was much different than giving Amsodueus’ little spawns access via that orange crystal, who didn’t hold the kind of magic the demon before him did. 

What would he do when he was up there? Steal more souls? Go on a slaughter spree? There was no telling with the twisted man before him.

But… it was Heaven’s problem. Wasn’t it? It was them who cast Lucifer away from the place he helped create, and now it was their job to clean up the messes.

“Why would you give me something of such value for something like that?” Lucifer asked after a  moment.

“Because your little lover is a deep pain in my side, always disrespecting and challenging my words. If it wasn’t for that silver tongue of theirs, I’d have killed them ages ago.”

Lucifer growled, golden flames dancing on his fingertips at Alastor’s words. 

“They also don’t have any value. No power, no status, just a beggar on the street when I found them all those years ago. You could say I only made such a deal because I pitied their pathetic existence.”

‘If this guy keeps talking, I might just have to kill him.’

Time stood still in that room for a moment, the ending of the song playing from the radio the only indicator that the realm was still moving around them.

“I’m waiting~” Alastor sung, both demons locking eyes with each other across the room instensly.

As Lucifer weighed the consequences, a firm line set on his lips as he nodded. "Very well, Alastor," he said, extending a hand towards the demon. "We have a deal."

Their hands met in a firm shake, and as their fingers intertwined, a surge of dark energy crackled between them. Wisps of shadow and flame danced around their clasped hands, swirling around the duo.

Alastor was lost in a maniacal fit of laughter, as large eyes and symbols danced around him. That smile on his lips changed, as lines of thread locking his teeth together, as if someone had forcefully stitched that grin in place.

The air itself seemed to tremble with the force of their agreement, and the room pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp and bend around them as the terms of their pact solidified.

Suddenly, you burst into the room, your eyes widening in fear as you saw the two demon’s hands entwined. You placed a hand to your mouth in shock, as you realized exactly what they were doing.

“Oh, no no no NO!” You cried hoarsely against the loud rushing wind, pushing you against the wall. What kind of deal was Lucifer making?! 

With a final burst of darkness, the pact was sealed, and both demons drew back. Alastor’s eyes gleamed with newfound power. His aura crackled with renewed strength, and the demon’s grin widened with satisfaction.

His eyes landed on you, a twisted smirk on his lips as he vanished in a plume of smoke. The intensity of it causing your eyes to water, and to fall into a fit of coughs.

The echoes of their agreement lingered in the air in a mixture of green and gold sparks of energy. Lucifer stood alone in the room, before he took a step backwards, stumbling slightly as you reached him. 

Taking his arm, you yank him out of the room, into the hallway. You scan over his figure, your heartbeat quickening as you search for any kind of injuries.

“What did you do? You didn’t make a deal for your soul, did you?!” You cried in panic, your hands on both sides of Lucifer’s face as he blinked away the fog from behind his eyes.

“Of course, I didn’t.” Lucifer muttered between your palms, “I simply gave him some power that he can go fuck off with for the rest of eternity.”

“But.. he c-could—oh, why would you do that?! That was so stupi—”

Lucifer quickly wrapped his fingers around your forearms, shaking you gently to get you to look at him. The slits of his pupils trained intently on your look of distraught.

“For you!” He growled, and you slammed your mouth shut. His breath was ragged, his lips downturned into a painful frown as he watched your lip begin to quiver.

“I made a deal to exchange your soul for a little power, because I cannot bare seeing you suffer any longer. Do you get that? I walked into your bedroom, to find you bruised and in tears. Over what, spilled milk?!”

“I can take it, I've been taking it.” You cried, arms shaking as you fidgeted in his hold. Shame clawing at your throat. Why did you have to be so fucking useless when it came to things like this?

“No! Stop that. Stop lying to me! That ‘everything is fine and dandy’, when it’s not. I’m the goddamn King of Hell, and I can’t even protect you because you refuse to let anyone prove that you matter.”

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, head leaning into your shoulder as he took a deep breath. Your scent easing his anger slowly as he sunk into your embrace.

“You matter so much to me, you and Charlie. If I have to make a deal with a douchebag like him, to save your soul, then so be it. I don’t care what he takes from me.” 

Tears spilled from your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to your knees, and it was your turn to lean into his embrace. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest.

You were finally free from that monster. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, couldn’t lay a finger on you without consequence. Yet, your tears were also of sadness. You had tried so hard to prevent this, to prevent Lucifer from being selfless and allowing Alastor to win. 

You felt hands gently rubbing at your back, a soothing motion that quelled your quivering figure slightly. It was so warm, like laying in front of a lively fireplace. You wanted to stay there forever.

You were so tired. The mental exhaustion that had been plaguing your mind all these months finally slamming into you, and you lay there limp against his embrace.

“Please.. please don’t cry. I love you, I love you.” Lucifer whispered softly, his voice cracking as he pulled you deeper into his hold. He kept repeating those words, ‘I love you’, as he placed soft kisses against your forehead.

You felt the soft touch of feathers graze against your ears, and cracked open an eye to see Lucifer’s wings engulfing the both of you. They nestled into you, rubbing against your cheek softly, lulling you into a sleepy daze.

“I’ve got you, I promise.” Lucifer whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, you’re loved, I'm so sorry.” 

You placed a soft kiss to his collarbone, and snuggled deeper into his chest. Thankfully, no one was around to bother the two of you as you sat on the floor in the hall.

Just five minutes. That’s all you needed, five minutes basking in his warmth, in his soft words of affection. Five minutes to promise yourself you’d never let him do something like this again.

And maybe, everything would be alright. 

you guys 😭 i made sure this fic was cooked, damnit!! A little more fast-paced than usual, but I hope you can forgive me for that. i also could not settle on what kind of deal alastor wanted to make, so i blind drew out of a hat. i just wanted to bring in a little drama, and it’s hard when one of them is can be easily bodied haha

i honestly have to stop telling yall how long I think my fics will be bc i said “oh i want this to be as long as artist!reader pt. 4”, yet it’s roughly 6-7k over it someone kill me

let me know what you think 🫶

[Lucifer] taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #lucifer #alt title: you’re the rizzler this time

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Two plates of cookies, one oval and topped with powdered sugar, and the others shaped in rings; one cookie is broken in half to show a date filling; two glasses of coffee on a silver tray are in the background. End ID]

معمول فلسطيني / Ma’moul falastini (Palestinian semolina cookies)

Ma’moul (also transliterated “ma’amoul,” “maamoul” and “mamoul”) are sweet pastries made with semolina flour and stuffed with a date, walnut, or pistachio filling. The cookies are made tender and crumbly with the addition of fat in the form of olive oil, butter, or clarified butter (سمن, “samn”); delicate aromatics are added by some combination of fennel, aniseed, mahlab (محلب: ground cherry pits), mastic gum (مستكه, “mistīka”), and cinnamon.

“مَعْمُول” means  “made,” “done,” “worked by hand,” or “excellently made” (it is the passive participle of the verb “عَمِلَ” “‘amila,” "to do, make, perform"). Presumably this is because each cookie is individually filled, sealed, and shaped by hand. Though patterned molds known as طوابع (“ṭawābi’,” “stamps”; singular طابع, “ṭābi’”) are sometimes used, the decorations on the surface of the cookies may also be applied by hand with the aid of a pair of small, specialized tongs (ملقط, “milqaṭ”).

Because of their laborious nature, ma’moul are usually made for feast days: they are served and shared for Eid, Easter, and Purim, a welcome reward after the Ramadan or Lenten fasts. For this reason, ma’moul are sometimes called “كَعْك العيد” (“ka’k al-’īd,” “holiday cakes”). Plates of the cookies, whether homemade or store-bought, are passed out and traded between neighbors in a practice that is part community-maintenance, part continuity of tradition, and part friendly competition. This indispensable symbol of celebration will be prepared by the women of a family even if a holiday falls around the time of a death, disaster, or war: Palestinian food writer Laila El-Haddad explains that "For years, we endured our situation by immersing ourselves in cooking, in our routines and the things we could control."

Other names for these cakes exist as well. Date ma’moul–the most common variety in Palestine–may be called كَعْك بعَجْوَة (“ka'k b'ajwa”), “cakes with date paste.” And one particular Palestinian variety of ma’moul, studded with sesame and nigella seeds and formed into a ring, are known as كَعْك أَسَاوِر‎ (“ka'k 'asāwir”), “bracelet cakes.” The thinner dough leads to a cookie that is crisp and brown on the outside, but gives way to a soft, chewy, sweet filling.

[ID: An extreme close-up on one ka'k al-aswar, broken open to show the date filling; ma'moul and a silver teapot are very out-of-focus in the background. End ID]

History

Various sources claim that ma’moul originated in Egypt, with their ancestor, كحك (kaḥk), appearing in illustrations on Pharaonic-era tombs and temples. The more specific of these claims usually refer to “temples in ancient Thebes and Memphis,” or more particularly to the vizier Rekhmire’s tomb in Thebes, as evidencing the creation of a pastry that is related to modern kahk. One writer attests that this tomb depicts “the servants mix[ing] pure honey with butter on the fire,” then “adding the flour by mixing until obtaining a dough easy to transform into forms” before the shaped cookies were “stuffed with raisins or dried dates and honey.” Another does not mention Rekhmire, but asserts that “18th-dynasty tombs” show “how honey is mixed with butter on fire, after which flour is added, turning the substance into an easily-molded dough. These pieces are then put on slate sheets and put in the oven; others are fried in oil and butter.”

Most of these details seem to be unfounded. Hilary Wilson, summarizing the state of current research on Rekhmire’s tomb, writes that the depicted pastries were delivered as an offering to the Treasury of the Temple of Amun; that they certainly contained ground tiger nuts; that they presumably contained wheat or durum flour, since ground tiger nuts alone would not produce the moldable dough illustrated; that the liquid added to this mixture to form the dough cannot be determined, since the inscription is damaged; that the cakes produced “are clearly triangular and, when cooked are flat enough to be stacked” (any appearance that they are pyramidal or conical being a quirk of ancient Egyptian drawing); that they were shallow-fried, not cooked in an oven; and that honey and dates are depicted at the far left of the scene, but their relationship to the pastries is unclear. There is no evidence of the honey being included in the dough, or the cookies being stuffed with dates; instead, Wilson speculates that “It appears that the cooks are preparing a syrup or puree of dates and honey. It is tempting to think that the cakes or pastries were served [...] with a generous portion of syrup poured over them.” Whether there is any direct lineage between these flat, fried pastries and the stuffed, molded, and baked kahk must also be a matter of speculation. [1]

Another origin claim points to ancient Mesopotamia. James David Audlin speculates that ma’moul are "possibly" the cousins of hamantaschen, both being descended from the molded "kamānu cakes that bore the image of [YHWH’s] goddess wife Inanna [also known as Ishtar or Astarte]" that were made in modern-day Syria. Other claims for Mesopotamia cite qullupu as the inspiration: these cakes are described in the contemporary record as wheat pastries filled with dates or raisins and baked. (Food historian Nawal Nasrallah writes that these cookies, which were offered to Ishtar for the new year festival in spring, may also be an origin point for modern Iraqi كليچة, "kleicha.")

The word "määmoul" had entered the English language as a type of Syrian farina cake by 1896.

In Palestine

From its earliest instantiations, Zionist settlement in Palestine was focused on building farming infrastructure from which Palestinians could be excluded: settlers, incentivized by foreign capital, aimed at creating a separate economy based around farms, agricultural schools, communal settlements, and research institutions that did not employ Arabs (though Arab labor and goods were never entirely cut out in practice).

Zionist agricultural institutes in Palestine had targeted the date as a desirable crop to be self-sufficient in, and a potentially profitable fruit for export, by the 1930s. Ben-Zion Israeli (בנציון ישראלי), Zionist settler and founder of the Kinneret training farm, spoke at a 1939 meeting of the Organization of Fruit Growers (ארגון מגדלי פירות) in the Nahalel (נהלל) agricultural settlement to discuss the future of date palms in the “land of Israel.” He discussed the different climate requirements of Egyptian, Iraqi, and Tunisian cultivars—and which among them seemed “destined” (נועדים) for the Jordan Valley and coastal plains—and laid out his plan to collect saplings from surrounding countries for planting despite their prohibitions against such exports.

In the typical mode of Zionist agriculture discourse, this speech dealt in concepts of cultivation as a means of coming into a predestined ownership over the land; eating food suited for the climate as a means of belonging in the land; and a return to Biblical history as a triumphant reclamation of the land from its supposed neglect and/or over-cultivation by Palestinian Arabs over the past 2,000 years. Israeli opened:

נסתכל לעברה של הארץ, אשר אנו רוצים להחיותה ולחדשה. היא השתבחה ב"שבעה מינים" ואלה עשוה אינטנסיבית וצפופת אוכלוסין. לא רק חיטה ושעורה, כי אם גם עצים הנותנים יבול גדול בעל ערך מזוני רב. בין העצים -- הזית [...] הגפן, התאנה והתמר. לשלושה מהם, לזית, לתאנה ולתמר חטאה הת��שבותנו שאין היא נא��זת בהם אחיזה ציםכר של ממש ואינה מפתחת אותם דים.

We will look to the past of the land [of Israel], which we want to revive and renew. It excelled in "seven species," and these flourished and became densely populated. Not only wheat and barley, but also trees that give a large and nutritious crop. Among the trees: the olive, [...] the vine, the fig and the date. For three of them, the olive, the fig and the date, it is the sin of our settlement that it does not hold on to them with a strong grip and does not develop them.

He continued to discuss the benefits of adopting the date—not then part of the diet of Jewish settlers—to “health and economy” (בריאות וכלכלה). Not only should the “land of Israel” become self-sufficient (no longer importing dates from Egypt and Iraq), but dates should be grown for export to Europe.

A beginning had already been made in the importation of about 8,000 date palm saplings over the past two decades, of which ¾ (according to Israeli) had been brought by Kibbutz Kinneret, and the remaining ¼ by the settlement department of the Zionist Commission for Palestine (ועד הצירים), by the Mandate government's agriculture department, and by people from Degania Bet kibbutz ('דגניה ב). The majority of these imports did not survive. More recently, 1000 smuggled saplings had been planted in Rachel’s Park (גן רחל), in a nearby government plot, and in various places in the Jordan Valley. Farms and agricultural institutions would need to collaborate in finding farmers to plant dates more widely in the Beit-Sha’an Valley (בקעת בית שאן), and work to make dates take their proper place in the settlements’ economies.

These initial cuttings and their descendents survive in large plantations across “Israel” and the occupied Palestinian territories. Taher Herzallah and Tarek Khaill write that “Palm groves were planted from the Red Sea in the south along the Dead Sea, and as far as the Sea of Galilee up north, which has given the Israeli date industry its nickname ‘the industry of the three seas’” Since Israel occupied the Palestinian West Bank in 1967, it has also established date plantations in its illegal settlements in that portion of the Jordan Valley.” Today, these settlements produce between 40 and 60% of all Israeli dates.

In 2022, Israel exported 67,042 tons of dates worth $330.1 million USD; these numbers have been on a steady rise from 4,909 tons worth $1.2m. in 1993. Palestinian farmers and their children, disappropriated from their land and desperate for income, are brought in to date plantations to work for long hours in hazardous conditions for low pay. Workers are lifted into the date palms by cranes where they work, with no means of descending, until the crane comes to lower them down again at the end of the day. Injuries from falls, pesticides, heat stroke, and date-sorting machinery are common.

Meanwhile, settlers work to curtail and control Palestinian production of dates. The Palestinian population in the West Bank and Gaza is used as a pool of cheap labor and a captive market to purchase Israeli imports, absorb excesses in Israeli goods, stabilize Israeli wages, and make up for market deficits. Thus Palestinian date farmers may be targeted with repressive measures such as water contamination and diversion, destruction of wells, crop destruction, land theft, military orders forbidding the planting of trees, settler attacks, closing of checkpoints and forbidding of exports, and the denial of necessary equipment or the means to make it, in part to ensure that their goods do not compete with those of Israeli farmers in domestic or foreign markets. Leah Temper writes that these repressive measures are part of a pattern whereby Israel tries to “stop [Palestinian] growth in high value crops such as strawberries, avocados and dates, which are considered to be ‘Israeli Specialties’.”

At other times, Palestinian farmers may be ordered to grow certain crops (such as strawberries and dates), and forbidden to grow anything else, when Israeli officials fear falling short of market demand for a certain good. These crops will be exported by Israeli firms, ensuring that the majority of profits do not accrue to Palestinians, and that Palestinians will not have the ability to negotiate or fulfill export contracts themselves. Nevertheless, Palestinian farmers continue to defy these oppressive conditions and produce dates for local consumption and for export. Zuhair al-Manasreh founded date company Nakheel Palestine in 2011, which continues production despite being surrounded by Israeli settlements.

Boycotts of Israeli dates have arisen in response to the conditions imposed on Palestinian farmers and workers. Herzallah and Khaill cite USDA data on the effectiveness of boycott, pressure, and flyering campaigns initiated by groups including American Muslims for Palestine:

Israel’s exports of dates to the US have dropped significantly since 2015. Whereas 10.7 million kilogrammes (23.6 million pounds) of Israeli dates entered the US market in 2015-2016, only 3.1 million kilogrammes (seven million pounds) entered the US market in 2017-2018. The boycott is working and it is having a detrimental effect on the Israeli date industry.

Date products may not be BDS-compliant even if they are not labeled as a product of Israel. Stores may repackage dates under their own label, and exporters may avoid declaring their dates to be a product of Israel, or even falsely label them as a product of Palestine, to avoid boycotts. Purchase California dates, or dates from a known Palestinian exporter such as Zaytoun or Yaffa (not “Jaffa”) dates.

[ID: Close-up of the top of ma'moul, decorated with geometric patterns and covered in powdered sugar, in strong light and shadow. End ID]

Elsewhere

Other efforts to foreground the provenance and political-economic context of dates in a culinary setting have been made by Iraqi Jew Michael Rakowitz, whose store sold ma’moul and date syrup and informed patrons about individual people behind the hazardous transport of date imports from Iraq. Rakowitz says that his project “utilizes food as a point of entry and creates a different platform by which people can enter into conversation.”

[1] Plates from the tomb can be seen in N. de G. Davies, The tomb of Rekh-mi-Rē at Thebes, Vol. II, plates XLVII ff.

Purchase Palestinian dates

Donate to evacuate families from Gaza

Flyer campaign for eSims

Ingredients:

Makes 16 large ma'moul and 32 ka'k al-aswar; or 32 ma'moul; or 64 ka'k al-aswar.

For the dough:

360g (2 1/4 cup) fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم / طحين فرخة)

140g (1 cup + 2 Tbsp) white flour (طحين ابيض)

200g (14 Tbsp) margarine or vegetarian ghee (سمن), or olive oil

2 Tbsp (15g) powdered sugar

1 1/2 Tbsp (10g) dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

1/2 tsp (2g) instant yeast

About 2/3 cup (190mL) water, divided (use milk if you prefer)

1 tsp toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)

1 tsp toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)

Using olive oil and water for the fat and liquid in the dough is more of a rural approach to this recipe; ghee and milk (or milk powder) make for a richer cookie.

To make the bracelets easy to shape, I call for the inclusion of 1 part white flour for every 2 parts semolina (by volume). If you are only making molded cookies and like the texture of semolina flour, you can use all semolina flour; or vary the ratio as you like. Semolina flour will require more added liquid than white flour does.

For the filling:

500g pitted Madjoul dates (تمر المجهول), preferably Palestinian; or date paste

2 Tbsp oil or softened margarine

3/4 tsp dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

3/4 tsp ground cinnamon

5 green cardamom pods, toasted, skins removed and ground; or 1/4 tsp ground cardamom

Small chunk nutmeg, toasted and ground, or 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg

10 whole cloves, toasted and ground, or 1/4 tsp ground cloves

The filling may be spiced any way you wish. Some recipes call for solely dugga ka'k (or fennel and aniseed, its main components); some for a mixture of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, and/or cloves; and some for both. This recipe gives an even balance between the pungency of fennel and aniseed and the sweet spiciness of cinnamon and cloves.

Palestinian date brands include Ziyad, Zaytoun, Hasan, and Jawadir. Palestinian dates can also be purchased from Equal Exchange. You can find them online or at a local halal market. Note that an origin listed as "West Bank" does not indicate that a date company is not Israeli, as it may be based in a settlement. Avoid King Solomon, Jordan River, Mehadrin, MTex, Edom, Carmel Agrexco, Arava, and anything marked “exported by Hadiklaim”. Also avoid supermarket brands, as the origin of the dates may not be clearly marked or may be falsified to avoid boycots.

Instructions:

For the dough:

1. Melt margarine in a microwave or saucepan. Measure flours into a large mixing bowl and pour in margarine; mix thoroughly to combine. Rub flours between your hands for a few minutes to coat the grains in margarine. The texture should resemble that of coarse sad. Refrigerate the mixture overnight, or for up to 3 days.

2. Add dry ingredients to dough. If making both molded ma'moul and ka'k al-aswar, split the dough in half and add sesame and nigella seeds to one bowl.

3. Add water to each dough until you get a smooth dough that does not crack apart when formed into a ball and pressed. Press until combined and smooth, but do not over-knead—we don't want a bready texture. Set aside to rest while you make the filling.

For the filling:

1. Pit dates and check the interiors for mold. Grind all ingredients to a paste in a food processor. You may need to add a teaspoon of water, depending on the consistency of your dates.

To shape the cookies:

Divide the filling in half. One half will be used for the ma'moul, and the other half for the bracelets.

For the ma'moul:

1. With wet hands, pinch off date filling into small chunks about the size of a walnut (13-16g each, depending on the size of your mold)—or roll filling into a long log and divide into 16-20 even pieces with a dough scraper. Roll each piece of filling into a ball between your palms.

2. Divide the dough (the half without seeds) into the same number of balls as you have balls of filling, either using a kitchen scale or rolling into a log and cutting.

3. Form the dough into a cup shape. Place a ball of filling in the center, and fold the edges over to seal. Press the dough into a floured ma'moul mold to shape, then firmly tap the tip of the mold on your work surface to release; or, use a pair of spiked tweezers or a fork to add decorative designs by hand.

4. Repeat until all the the dough and filling has been used, covering the dough you're not working with to keep it from drying out. Place each cookie on a prepared baking sheet.

For the ka'k al-aswar:

1. With wet hands, divide the date filling into about 32 pieces (of about 8g each); they should each roll into a small log about the size of your pinkie finger.

2. Divide the dough (the half with the seeds) into as many pieces as you have date logs.

3. Take a ball of dough and flatten it into a thin rectangle a tiny bit longer than your date log, and about 3 times as wide. Place the date log in the center, then pull the top and bottom edges over the log and press to seal. Seal the ends.

4. Roll the dough log out again to produce a thin, long rope a little bit thinner at the very ends than at the center. Press one side of the rope over the other to form a circle and press to seal.

5. Repeat until all the the dough and filling has been used, covering the dough you're not working with to keep it from drying out. Place each cookie on a prepared baking sheet.

To bake:

1. Bake ma'moul at 350 °F (175 °C) in the center of the oven for about 20 minutes, until very lightly golden brown. They will continue to firm up as they cool.

2. Increase oven heat to 400 °F (205 °C) and bake ka'k al-aswar in the top third of the oven for about 20 minutes, until golden brown.

Sprinkle cookies with powdered sugar, if desired. Store in an airtight container and serve with tea or coffee, or give to friends and neighbors.

#Palestinian #cookies #baking #Eid #long post /

[huggybearhughes43]

Inexperienced reader threesome with Ethan Edwards and Jack Hughes?

- reader and Jack are best friends

- everyone’s at the lake house

- Ethan has a school boy crush

- Jack thinks it’s funny that Ethan thinks he has a chance with you

- possessive Jack who claims it’s just because you’re his best friend

- Ethan is sweet and gentle (treats you like a gentleman)

- Jack is rougher and tries to show Ethan how the “grown ups” please a girl

- almost like a competition between the two to see how many times they can make her cum/who pleases her better

- lots of dirty talk, thigh riding, sex in front of a mirror

(Sorry if this was too detailed 🥲)

My Turn.

Jack Hughes x Fem! Reader x Ethan Edwards

Warnings- smut, threesome, dirty talk, pet names (slut, whore, pretty girl, baby, good girl), Mean! Dom! Jack + Soft! Dom! Ethan + Sub! Reader, creampie, squirting, I think that’s it

Summary- In the ask <3

Word count- 2.2k

No one bats an eye as Ethan stares at me from across the pool. I’m laid out alongside Jack, bathing in the sun. Almost everyone knew about Ethan’s crush but I was oblivious. I grew up with the Hughes brothers, being only a year older than Luke, I went to Michigan with him. That’s how I knew Ethan. Jack and Quinn invited some of their buddies from their teams and past teams, while Luke invited his friends from Michigan.

The Dukes were stationed at their usual spot, the grill, cooking everyone dinner after a long day. Most of the day was spent on the boat. There were times that Jack would catch Ethan mindlessly checking me out but he’d just smirk and roll his eyes. Jack was confident that Ethan would never have a chance with me.

I sigh and stand up, wrapping myself in the towel I was laying on. “I’m going inside to change.” I notify Jack and he nods, eyes still focused on his phone from before. I make my way inside, walking up to mine and Jacks shared room. My towel was long discarded in the hamper as I stood next to the bed, rummaging through my bag to find an outfit to wear. I pull out a soft white sundress with red flowers scattered over it.

Confident that everyone was outside still, I stripped of my bathing suit in the room. Granted, the only one who would walk in with no warning would be Jack. Who, hard to admit, had walked in on me changing plenty of times in the years of our friendship. I slip the dress on and a pretty thong that matched the flowers on the dress. One thing about me, I dress for myself. I don’t care one bit if anyone sees it just gives a piece of mind knowing I match.

The straps of the dress were in an awkward spot, just barely being able to reach high enough, definitely not being able to tie it by myself. My back was turned towards the door when it barged open. “Jack I-“ I turn around and furrow my brows then smile softly, “Hey Ethan, can you help me tie this?” He scratches his neck and nods, walking over to me. I hold my hair out of the way as he ties it. “I should’ve knocked, I’m sorry” he chuckles nervously. “Jack was too busy on his ass to come up here at get you. Foods ready, by the way.” He softly pats my shoulder to signal he’s done.

“Thank you, Ethan” His face heats up with a goofy smile on his face. “You’re welcome, this dress looks good on you- I mean every dress does- everything does- shit.” He sighs frustratedly causing me to giggle. “Come on, the foods gonna get cold.” I grab ahold of his arm and lead him back to the poolside. Jack walks over to the two of us once we get outside, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Nice of you to go and get my girl for me.” I scoff, “your girl?” I look over to see Ethan’s annoyed face. “I’m not his girl!” Ethan’s face was still unconvinced and jacks with a smirk plastered over it. I scoff and swat Jacks hand away, splitting away from them and deciding to eat my dinner with Luke.

The sun was far gone by the time everyone finished up their food. The cold air nipped at my nose as Luke and Mark threw some sticks into a fire pit to warm us up. I twist my hangs together to keep them warm. A soft hand wrapped itself around my waist from my right side. I look over to see the Michigan boy smiling down at me, “You looked cold.” He says with a shrug. “Thanks Ethan” I smile and snuggle closer to his side. Jack glared from the other side of the now lit fire pit. He sipped on a cup of a mysterious alcoholic mixture. He crumbled the cup in his hand before throwing it on a random table, making his way over to us.

“It’s cute you think you have a chance.” Is what Jack doesn’t know I hear he whispers to Ethan as he passes. Ethan gets an obvious face of distaste as Jack approaches. I gently rub my fingers along his back in a stupid attempt to soothe him. “Jack, you’re drunk.” I simply say and he just smiles. “Just had one drink for confidence.” Luke and Marks stares caught my eye and I huff. I grab ahold of both of the hockey players arms and drag them inside the house and up into mine and Jacks shared room.

“What the fuck is your problem, Jack?” I burst out which surprises both of them. “What’re you talking about? You’re my best friend, you deserve way more than a little college boy with a school crush.” He says matter of factly and crosses his arms. “I’m what? A year younger than you? Get over yourself.” I’m surprised at Ethan’s words. They almost make me laugh because of how right they were. I sit myself on the edge of the shared bed in the awkwardness of the silence in which Jack breaks. “Fine, you decide. Which one of us would you rather have?” I don’t answer, instead subconsciously squeezing my legs together. “Oh-“ Jack laughs, “I get it now, you want both of us, don’t you?”

I go to speak up but Jack cuts me off, turning his head to look at Ethan. “What do you think, Edwards? Wanna share her?” Ethan looks from Jack to me. “If it’s okay with you?” Ethan asks. I think for a moment, looking between them before I nod. Jack smirks and walks over to me, “That’s what I thought.” Ethan’s close behind, making his way to me to lift me to stand. “What a dirty slut.” I gasp and Jacks words as he attacks my neck with kisses and bites. Ethan presses a soft kiss to my forehead before reaching around to untie my dress, letting it puddle to the floor around my feet. Leaving me only in the skimpy thong I put on earlier. “So pretty” Ethan whispers in my ear before running soft kisses over my shoulder.

Jack drops to his knees, pulling the last piece of clothing down my legs. Ethan pulls me gently back onto the bed and onto his lap. I turn my head and press my lips deeply into Ethan’s, causing him to smile onto my lips. “So wet” Jack teases from between my legs, “Fuck, you like this that much? Fucking whore.” His lips connecting to my wet cunt pulls me away from Ethan’s lips. My head thrown back in pleasure and my hand it Jacks soft hair. I moan out and buck my hips into his face while he eats me like a starved man. His tongue strategically moving from my clit to dip deep into my wet cunt. My back arching causing Ethan to groan, accidentally grinding back into his bulge.

With one last swipe of jacks tongue over my clit, my juices explode over his mouth. He smirks as he raises off of me, licking his lips to get as much of the taste as he could. “Come on pretty girl.” Ethan hoists me up and places me down on his thigh. My sensitive cunt already close just from the fabric of his jeans rubbing against my clit. “That feels good, hm?” Ethan smiles at me, “then ride it.” I bite my lip and whine, already overstimulated. Ethan softly laughs and holds my hips. “I’ll help you, pretty.” He softly and slowly moves my hips back and forth, my cunt leaving a warm sticky spot on his jeans. It would be embarrassing if I wasn’t holding onto his shoulders for dear life, moaning out his name. “See how wet that dirty little cunt is for us? Such a slut for us isn’t she?”

Jacks words were blocked out of my ears as I focus on my second orgasm on Ethan’s leg. “Our pretty little slut, so perfect.” Ethan praises as he guides me over his thigh. “Ethan- mm, fuck! I’m cumming!” I warn him as my legs shake. He continues his paste at moving my hips. I stutter and cream all over thigh. I lean my head into his shoulder as I steady my breathing. “My turn.” Jack pulls me back to him. He had discarded his clothes off and was now completely naked. “Gonna let me fuck this pussy?” He asks shakily in my ear as he sits he on his lap, facing away from him. Jacks hand holds my jaw “open your eyes for me.” I open them to see he had me sat in front of the mirror in the corner of the room. “Want you to see how perfect you look when I stuff you full.”

I groggily nod as he lines himself up from below me. He forces my hips down in one motion, filling me to the full with his thick cock. Ethan sits next to us. My hand finds its way into his pants, not wanting to leave him untouched. Jack fucks up into me as I jerk Ethan off under his pants. “Look it the mirror. Look how much of a whore you are.” Jack demands and I force myself to look into the mirror. My jaw is dropped, moaning out jacks name now as he fucks up into my g spot. “Hear this, Edwards? That’s how men are supposed to make a woman sound.” I was too fucked out to hiss at Jack for being an asshole. My hand is covered in Ethan’s warm cum in no time, his shaky moans keeping me going. Ethan has to force my hand away from him, accidentally overstimulating him.

I smile lick the stickiness off of my fingers. Jack wraps his arms around my waist, steadying me as he fucked up into me. His repeated hits on my G spot had me closer and closer to my release. “Jack I-“ “I know, cum, baby. Cum all over my dick for me.” I moan out as I cum around him. “I- fuck- I’m on the pill.” Jack smirks and nods, holding my waist tightly down on him as he fills me up. I clutch onto the side of the bed tightly as I feel his warm ropes coat my walls. Jack lifts me up and lays me down on the bed.

Jacks warm cum dripping out of me. “Think you can do one more, pretty girl?” Ethan asks, rubbing my thighs gently. My cunt was sensitive and aching but the way Ethan was looking at me I just couldn’t deny him. I nod softly and Ethan smiles. Ethan pulls off his t shirt along with his pants and boxers, leaving himself bare. He was thicker than Jack but about the same in length. He pumps himself a few times before lining himself up. “Ready?” He asks to double check. I smile and nod. He pushes in slowly, my back arching and my mouth moaning out at the sting of the stretch. He stays still for a moment, letting me get used to him. My hands rub up and down on his abs to tell him I’m ready. He pulls out all the way before harshly slamming back in. Jacks cum from before being used as lube.

Loud moans fall from my tongue, chanting Ethan’s name as he fucks in and out of me. Ethan laughs breathlessly and looks over at Jack. “What were you saying about how a woman should sound, again?” “Shut up, Edwards.” Jack stands next to us pumping his cock between his hands. I turn my head and open my mouth for Jack. He smirks and slaps his dick onto my tongue before pushing it into my mouth. Ethan pounding into my cunt and Jack fucking my throat almost sends me right into my fourth orgasm of the night. I moan around Jacks dick, causing him to cum down my throat. I pull off, sticking out my tongue to show him I’ve swallowed it all. He whispers a quiet “good girl.” I turn to look back at Ethan. His fucked out face making me closer and closer to cumming. Jack snakes his hand down to my clit. The action making me arch my back into Ethan and squirt around him. I shakily fall back onto the bed as Ethan fucks into me a few more times before cumming in me, his cum mixing with Jacks.

Ethan pulls out slowly and lays next to me, Jack doing the same. After a moment Ethan gets up and leaves for a while, coming back with his sweatpants back on, two cloths in his hands, and two water bottles. He tosses a cloth and a water bottle to Jack. Shaking his head with a groan, “thanks”. Ethan nods and takes the other cloth the clean me up, opening the water bottle for me. “Thank you, Ethan.” I smile and drink the water. Ethan lays back down next to me. I snuggle up to Ethan, Jack laying behind me and wrapping his arms around me. “I guess…” Jack presses soft kisses to my shoulder “we can share since she liked it so much.”

#smut #hockey smut #nhl #new jersey devils #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman smut #boston college #john marino smut #luke hughes smut #umich hockey #jack hughes smut #ethan edwards smut

[cxptain-capsicle]

Beyond the Sea | Luke Castellan | II

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Unclaimed Poseidon Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn flashbacks, established relationship present day, Gods being terrible parents

A/N: If you are new around here I love taking suggestions and incorporating your guy's ideas and headcannons in my series so feel free to leave thoughts in my inbox!

Series Masterlist Taglist

“So all of the major 12 gods have their own cabin where their children live. Children from one cabin can’t go into another god's cabin.” Luke explained as he walked you down the aisle of houses. “This one is ours.”

“Ours?” You raised your eyebrow questionably.

“All the new arrivals stay here, in the Hermes cabin.” Luke gestured towards a cabin that was much larger than all of the others. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the ones around it but it felt warm and welcoming. It looked like a simple log cabin with a large front porch held by tall log columns. On the front of the house was a large green banner with a Greek symbol in the center. Over the door a semi-circle stained glass window that reminded you of the ones in the Big House. The cabin looked a little run down but that wasn’t shocking considering the amount of kids running around inside. Walking inside felt like entering a circus tent. There was yelling, laughing, singing, kids running around, hanging upside down from bunk beds. Even with the chaos it still felt cozy. The inside was dimly lantern lit, the walls were paneled with dark wood, in the center was a large fire pit that made the whole room feel like a warm hug. You followed Luke further into the cabin as several heads turned to look at the new arrival.  

“Here,” Luke said as he led you to a bed and dropped the few things that you had on the bed. “This one was mine, now it’s yours.” 

“You’re giving me your bed?” 

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. “I’ll move to the top bunk, it’ll be nice to have a change.” He was humble. He was willing to give you one of the only things that was his and he didn’t want any praise for it.

“Thank you.” You meant it, and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Everyone!” Chiron announced as he trotted into the cabin doors. “Your attention, please. This is Percy Jackson. I trust you will see to whatever he needs.” Everyone stared at the sandy-haired boy awkwardly. Everyone in the Hermes cabin was used to this by now. New kid comes in, new kid gets claimed, new kid leaves, and the cycle continues. Within seconds everyone went back to their conversations although many of those conversations now included the word: Minotaur.

You and Luke glanced at each other unsure if you should say anything to the boy. 

“He shouldn’t be alone.” You whispered to him. “Grover said the Minotaur killed his mom.” 

You followed Luke as he made his way to the boy, who sat up quickly when we approached.

“Look, if you want to give me a hard time, just do it tomorrow.” He said before either Luke or you could get a word out. “I can't do any more today.” 

“Heard what happened to you on the hill.” Luke said slowly, arms crossed over his chest. “And I just... wanted to say I'm really sorry.” 

“I know what you're going through.” You chimed in. “Believe me, I really do.”

“I'm Luke.” He reached out to shake the boy's hand.

“Percy.” He hesitantly grabbed Luke’s hand.

“Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. He reminded you so much of yourself when you first came to camp so many years ago.

“Rise and shine!” Luke’s voice boomed above you. You groaned and turned away from him in an attempt at protest.

“Five more minutes.” Luke chuckled at your words but he didn’t take it for an answer.

“C’mon.” He ripped the blanket off of the bed. “First day at camp, gotta make it count.”

“Luke!” You shouted, the cold air shocking your body. “Do you make it a habit to torture the new campers?” You groaned as you rolled out of bed and began to put your shoes on. Luke was already geared up and ready to go, twitching with excitement.

“Only the ones who make it easy.” He smirked. 

“Screw you.” You reached to grab your pillow and threw it at his face. It caught him by surprise causing him to stumble back, making both of you laugh.

“Maybe you’re an Ares kid?” He faked injury dramatically. “We’ll find out today.”

“What?” That piqued your interest. Ever since you arrived at camp yesterday you couldn’t stop thinking about getting claimed.

“We’re gonna figure out what you’re good at. Maybe that’ll help us figure out who your parent is.” Luke explained.

“Where do we start?” You stood up with excitement.

“Breakfast.” 

The two of you made your way to the mess hall, it was much more crowded this morning than it was the previous day. Each of the tables were nearly full with kids chatting over breakfast. 

“So what’s your story?” You asked Luke as you sat down with your breakfast.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled slightly.

“Your story.” You repeated. “How’d you get here?”

“Well,” He sighed. “I’ve been here for 3 summers.” He pulled at the necklace around his neck with three colored beads strung on the brown cord. “I came here with Annabeth, an Athena kid.”

He gestured over to a girl a few years younger than you sitting at the Athena table. “And Thalia, she uh- she didn’t make it.”

“Oh,” Your voice trailed off. “I’m sorry Luke.” 

“Thalia died getting us to camp safely.” He continued. “She died a hero.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. “Then I got here, got claimed by Hermes.” Even mentioning his father seemed to send chills down his back.

“What happens if I don’t get claimed?” The thought had crossed your mind more than a few times.

“Well,” Luke shifted in his seat. “It doesn’t happen too often but, you’d stay in the Hermes cabin. That’s where all the unclaimed kids stay.”

“Well if that’s the case, I’ll need to move beds because you snored above me all night.” You teased.

“Oh no way I’ll just follow you wherever you go.” He said as he took a big bite of his breakfast. “So who are we looking for, a mom or a dad?”

“I’m not sure.” You said through a bit of toast. “I was left at a firehouse as a baby so I have no idea who my mortal parent is either.”

“So where did you live?” Luke leaned onto his elbow on the table in interest.

“Foster families, group homes, things like that.” You explained. “Until monsters would trash them and I’d get blamed for it and get moved.”

“Well, we can’t rule out any god but we’ll start out with the olympians. We’ve got a lot of work to do,”

After breakfast Luke led you all around camp. He took you to Arts and Crafts and sat you down at an empty sheet of canvas and easel with a bowl of miscellaneous fruit in front of it. Luke went around to the front of  the easel and knocked the bowl onto the floor.

“I have a better subject for your painting.” He stood in front of you, placed his hands on his hips and looked to the side triumphantly. The pose of a hero. You laughed at him and did your best to capture him on the canvas. You tried to take your time but Luke quickly started complaining that his arms were hurting and urged you to hurry. The top half of the painting was pretty good, you could tell it was Luke, you even captured his smug smirk which made you smile. As you went down the painting got more rushed and sloppy but you blamed Luke for that.

“Tada.” You said enthusiastically as you took the canvas off the easel and turned it around to show him. He came up quickly to grab it.

“You didn’t fully capture my good looks, but other than that it’s pretty good.” He shrugged and you laughed and smacked his shoulder with a paintbrush. “So maybe an Apollo kid.” He took the canvas from you and rolled it up, saving it for later in his bag.

Luke continued to lead you around camp trying everything he could think of. He took you to the forge and quickly decided you were likely not a Hephaestus kid after you struggled to even make a dent in the hot metal. He took you to the archery range and despite never holding a bow before, you weren’t too bad. Artemis could be a maybe. He took you to a little training obstacle course by the arena designed to test speed and agility. You did your best but got hit by multiple bags of sand that were built to resemble flying harpies. So Hermes is a no. “Well, we’re definitely not siblings.” Luke laughed as you got hit by a sandbag that toppled you over. For whatever reason that felt very relieving to you. He took you to the strawberry fields where you propagated a few berries. Possibly Demeter. Finally Luke wanted to test your swordsmanship. You were excited for this. Only being here a day and a half you had already heard of Luke’s skills with a sword. Having been on the run from monsters basically your whole life you had gotten pretty good at fighting,

“We’ll get some swords and go to the woods to practice.” Luke told you on the way to the armory.

“Why are we going to the woods?” You questioned.

“So I don’t embarrass you in front of everyone when I beat you.” He smiled widely.

“I hate you-” You laughed but were cut off by someone yelling from up the hill.

“New girl!” Another girl shouted. As you kept walking closer she became easier to see. She was dressed in full greek armor and wore a helmet with a bright red crest. When she took off the helmet her dark curly hair slipped out and gave you a better look at her face.

“Her name is Y/n,” You swore Luke was scowling. “Play nice.”

“Am I not allowed to meet the girl we almost died trying to find?” She faked offense. 

“You were in the cave.” You remembered. “You thought I was dead.” 

“You looked dead.” She shrugged. “So what are you two doing out here?”“Y/n’s gonna try her hand at some combat.” Luke explained.

“Perfect.” Clarisse said menacingly. She grabbed a chestplate off the rack and held it out to you. “I’ll take the first round.”

“Clarisse, I don’t think-” Luke started but you cut him off.

“Let’s do it.” You eagerly took the chestplate and a sword off of the wall. Something about Clarisse invigorated you. Luke looked at you wearily but figured he was quick enough to stop Clarisse before she killed you. You and Clarisse were stationed about 6 feet away from each other, you armed with a sword and her with a spear. Before you even realized you’d begun she stormed forward, her spear pointed towards you. You took a step to the side to avoid being impaled and she quickly redirected the tip of her spear to follow you but you went under the head of the spear with your sword blade, sending the tip of her spear towards the sky. You took a swipe at her with your sword but she quickly deflected. While you were recovering from your failed attack she slashed the head of her spear down. You stepped back to avoid the spear hitting your face but the tip of the spearhead tore into your shoulder causing you to whine in pain.

“Y/n!” Luke cried out and he began to run to your side but you held out your hand telling him to stop. Your face flushed hot with anger. You weren’t mad at Clarisse, it was a fight and people get hurt. You had always been easy to set off especially in competition. 

“It’s just a cut,” You stared Clarisse down. “Let’s keep going.”

“I like this girl.” She laughed before rushing forward again with a giddy smile before taking a stab at you. You took one hand off of your sword and grabbed the shaft of the spear as tightly as you could. She pulled and pulled but couldn’t get the spear free from your grasp. You picked your foot up and landed a hard kick in her stomach sending both of you flying backwards. Despite your best efforts you lost grip on your sword but went down with the spear. You both stumbled to your feet and when you did were both met with a blade under your chins. You with her spear and her with your sword. A draw. She laughed and lowered the sword and you did the same.

“Good to know we didn’t risk our lives for someone completely useless.” You thought that was a compliment coming from Clarisse.

“Let me see your arm.” Luke panicked as he rushed over to you. He grabbed your arm and began examining the cut on your shoulder. The cloth of your Camp Half-Blood was torn and the gash was bleeding much more than you had realized. “Let’s get you to the big house.”

The entire walk to the big house Luke muttered under his breath how it was so stupid to fight Clarisse and it wasn’t until after a few of the Apollo kids treated your wound he admitted that he was impressed. Saying that of course you still couldn’t compare to his sword skills.

I would love to hear feedback! &lt;3

Taglist: @fudosl @lenasvoid

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo series #luke x reader #percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader #luke pjo #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo

[m-jelly]

hi hii, can i request some more of grandpa silverfox levi

Still young

Levi x fem!reader

Modern world, romance, married couple, grandpa Levi, grandma reader, fluff, suggestive moments.

Levi loved being a father and loves the fact he is now a grandpa. Levi shows that age is just a number and how young and energetic he can still be.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Your body ached and throbbed, but the loving lips of your husband on your back did soothe you a little bit. A little mewl escaped you as he pressed his naked body against yours. "Mm, Levi. How are you still hungry?"

He nipped your shoulder. "You've been asking that over the many years we've been married and I will keep telling you, it is because you are so sexy and beautiful."

You rolled onto your side and gazed at him. Even though years had gone by, Levi was still handsome and young-looking. There were only a few wrinkles around his eyes and he had the sexiest grey stripes in his hair. He was your silver fox.

You reached over and caressed Levi's cheek. "I love you."

Levi smiled at you. "I love you too." He propped his head up on his hand and used his other hand to trace patterns on your waist. "I could stay like this all-day long."

"We've done it before, but today we can't. Our four kids are coming over. Evan and Lilly are both bringing their kids as well."

Levi's eyes sparkled. "The grandbabies."

You hummed a laugh. "It'll be fun." You sat up and huffed as your joints cracked. "Well, I better get baking."

Levi sat up and hugged you from behind. "Do you think they will want to go camping in the back garden with me?"

"Of course." You turned and kissed Levi. "Our kids and grandkids adore you."

Levi blushed. "I love all of them."

The two of you did your morning routines, had a filling breakfast and enjoyed a cup of tea. As you baked Levi held you from behind and showered you with kisses. He helped you with a few things before you sent him on a mission to set up the camping area outside in the back garden.

After a while, you decided to check on your husband to make sure he was okay. You couldn't help but smile at what he created. Levi had made a little campground. There was a fire pit in place, lots of tents to sleep in along with a canopy to relax under. Blankets and cushions covered the floors under the canopy so everyone could relax. You adored the fairy lights for when it got dark.

You smiled as you felt your heart warm up. Your husband always went above and beyond for the people he loved. "Levi?" You squealed when he tackled you into a hug. "Hello, Levi."

Levi nipped your shoulder. "Does this bring back memories? We went camping a lot as a couple. We'd shake the tent."

You giggled. "We got up to no good." You turned in his arms and smiled at him. "We should go camping again, you and me."

Levi smiled at you. "We should. We'll set something up. I'm sure the kids won't mind."

"Perfect idea."

"Mum? Dad?"

You looked over at the sliding door on the back of your house to see your eldest, Lilly, with her husband and two kids. "Welcome! Your dad set up a little campground. This okay?"

Lilly walked over. "It's perfect! Dad, you're the best." She hugged you tightly. "Thank you for the delicious baked treats, mum."

"You're very welcome."

Lilly hugged her dad. "Mm, thanks dad for this fun setup."

Levi smiled. "You're welcome."

You crouched down and hugged your precious grandkids as Levi talked with his daughter and her husband. You made the kids giggle and gave them little snacks. You played a few little games with them and listened to their cute stories about how things have been.

You looked up at Levi. "Hey kids, who's that? That grandpa? You should get him."

Your granddaughter giggled. "Tickle attack?"

Your grandson grinned. "Lots of tickles."

You nodded. "That's right. Go get him."

He spied his little grandkids gazing at him. "There are my little ackerbabies!" He raced after them making them squeal with laughter and run away. "I'll get ya!"

Lilly looked around. "I miss this place so much."

You smiled sweetly. "We miss you too. We miss all four of you. Sending little Bjorn off to university in September was very emotional."

Lilly rubbed your back. "It was hard for all of us because it meant we were all grown up. I think I'll be like you and Dad when I send my lot off."

"We'll be here for you, we'll be super old, but we'll be here."

She laughed. "Come on, Mum, you and Dad will always be young at heart. I think you two will reach 100." She looked over at Levi play fighting with her kids. "I just know Dad will be chasing you around even then."

"Probably." You giggled. "If you need anything to drink, we have a cooler full here. I'll bring out the baked treats."

As soon as you got inside and put together a tray of food, you almost squeaked in delight at seeing your son Evan with his baby daughter in his arms. Your daughter Kuchel with her baby bump and your youngest Bjorn with a bright smile. Having all your kids home was a little overwhelming and it made you so happy.

You gave all of them a hug and held Evan's baby in your arms for a bit as you chatted to him and his sweet wife. You showered your daughter Kuchel with compliments at how she was glowing and her bump looked cute. You then gave Bjorn a big hug as you listened to all their stories.

You led all of them outside so they could see their eldest sister. They all gathered together and chatted, but then they saw Levi. Levi rushed over to his kids and gave them all hugs before he took Evan's baby into his arms. You could tell by the look in Levi's eyes he was becoming broody.

You took a seat with a drink in your hand and watched Levi running around with his kids and his grandkids. You smiled at your daughter Kuchel as she opted to sit next to you. Kuchel was always the quiet one and just enjoyed being next to Levi and you, as well as playing video games and exchanging stories.

Kuchel hugged your side and hummed. "It's great to be back."

"You're welcome here anytime you want."

"I know. Thank you."

You wrapped your arms around her and hugged her. "You're Dad is like a kid again."

You both watched as Levi lifted his granddaughter into the air and spun around with her. He put her down and picked up his grandson and threw him up and down. Next, he sprinted around with them as they threw balls at him, but Levi dodged them all making the kids laugh.

In the end, Levi fell to the floor and let the kids jump on him. The sweet laugh that came from Levi made everyone smile. Before you, Levi was a very lonely and grumpy person. After you, he smiled and laughed a lot more. Levi had always said that you taught him what it means to live. He counted his blessings every single day.

He lay back on the floor and talked to his kids and the grandkids about all the stars in the sky, along with the stories linked to them. He shifted off the floor as his kids looked after their own kids. He walked over to you and Kuchel. He gave his daughter a hug and some words of love and encouragement.

You smiled as Kuchel kissed Levi's cheek and hurried over to her brothers and sister. "You're a wonderful father and grandfather."

Levi sat next to you and hugged you tightly. "You're an incredible mother and grandmother. I love you."

"I love you too."

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x y/n #levi x you #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #dad!levi #dad levi #dadvi #grandpa Levi #levi x yn #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #jelly fanfics

[vampyrsm]

‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | YOMI

‣‣ Synopsis: Our Tale continues with the captured Zen'in diving into her very own personal version of Yomi; The Land of the Dead. Here she will face death, will she be strong enough to conquer it? Or will she simply be forced to her knees and succumb to what Fate has decided for her?

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 7.5k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, cannibalism, death, cursed spirits, fighting scenes, blood and gore, cursed energy usage.

Darkness. Infinite and finite. Inky blackness that you could sink your fingers into and find yourself lost at sea, floating, lost—forever. It moves and bends around you, welcomes you with icy cold fingers that grasp at your arms. An inescapable embrace of none other than Death herself.

You couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, if you had even lifted your arm in the first place. You couldn’t feel a thing either. Your back felt as if it were simultaneously on fire and pressed against ice, it burned in more ways than one. The fall had done more damage than you’d expected, you could feel the sticky blood that had dried down the side of your face; no doubt still minutely trickling from the gash somewhere in your hairline. 

A fall like that would’ve killed anyone, no doubt. Sugawara had spoken to you briefly before he had shoved you down into that all-consuming darkness, he spoke as if you were to be faced with Death here. Did he expect the fall to kill you or something else?

Something shifts in the darkness, the sound of flesh dragging along the stone. You don’t make a sound, nor do you move an inch when that sound continues to grow louder and more frequent. Multiple things lingered in the dark down here, things that you had only become intimately to know recently. 

You could taste their foul energy on the back of your tongue; tainted and impure. It belonged to none other than a curse, and here you are, surrounded by multiple curses that had waited for you to stir awake before they inevitably tore you apart.

The neck brace at your throat no longer burned, your cursed energy unleashed and bubbling at the tips of your fingers. Yet you knew even with the return of your cursed energy, you could not use it to escape here. Something at the back of your mind hissed at the talisman that was pressed into the walls of the pit you had been thrown into.

Scraping claws and flesh grow closer and closer until the darkness becomes tangible, misfigured shadowed figures that loom over you. This close you could scent them, death and rot, mud and rain. These weren’t your ordinary curses, because besides the obvious smell of decay — you could also smell a type of dampness you had come to recognise in the last few days locked away.

These were all once victims of the Shogun too. Cursed and transformed into the very thing he sought to vanquish, they were kept here to punish those who openly defied the Shogun.

His own men. Turned into nothing but mindless creatures that gargled when they opened their horrendous mouths, or harboured multiple eyes that would forever be witness to the atrocity they had turned into.

You’d kill him. You’d make him suffer for what he did and what he continued to do. Perhaps he too should be cursed upon his death, to be turned into something so weak in comparison to the title of Shogun. But first, you had to stop the slaughter that was about to occur.

You find the strength to finally lift your arm, and that coiling familiar feeling in your gut purrs at the idea of being used to extract punishment on something as lowly as a cursed spirit. The gangly creature that had dared to come close to you screeches at the pain, arching backwards and stumbling into what must be more curses as they all begin to scramble.

Their noises, the voices of the damned repeating over and over their last words. It’s enough of a distraction to hurl yourself up off of the floor, the pain you had once felt eradicated as quickly as it had appeared. Your cuts and bruises disappear into nothing, the scars however remain. You wish to hold onto them, a reminder you told yourself—to kill those who defiled your body.

Another swipe of your arm has their screeches choked in blood, the scent of a rotting corpse is enough to make your stomach churn. But it’s soon washed away by the taste of your imminent victory, to finally win at something, to succeed in fighting your way out instead of rotting in the corner of a damp dark cell. It was addicting.

Bodies slump and crumble to the floor in nothing but a heap of slowly decomposing flesh, bodies that soon stop their high-pitched gurgling screams. Those who still live turn their attention back to the source of their agony; you. They come at you in waves, crawling from their god-forsaken corners and with such little cursed energy in comparison to your own—they throw themselves at you. 

A wet hand grasps at your throat, sinking cracked nails into the flesh on either side of the useless collar at your throat. The pain doesn’t bother you anymore, you can’t feel the blood that it draws you from.

That curling darkness boils up from deep within, it scratches at the surface with sharpened claws and glistening teeth—let go, it bellows, until you too can feel your mouth opening to bare your newfound fangs; sharpened canines that were made for fighting, for surviving. 

The flesh you bite into isn’t that of the same calibre of human, it’s not as rich or candescent. It’s foul, rotted, it smells of something awful. Yet you continue to bite at the foolish cursed spirit who tried to choke you, to suppress you further in a world that has tried to snuff you from existence from the very start. 

The spirit grasped between your teeth screams something that sounds too far from a human, yet it still satisfies that part of your mind that bows to that violent darkness within.

You bite until it lets go, and then do you plant your hand on the chest of the mangled beast. Its body is deformed, flesh and bone curled around what was once the man's body armour. It vanishes in the next breath, nothing but a heap of meat on the floor to be forgotten. 

There’s no pause between the kill and another when something from the darkness lunges at you, it comes naturally to only raise two fingers in that direction before they’re blown back into nothing but misted blood and goop. Something deep within grabs at you, it clings to your very being and sinks its claws into you further than it ever had before.

Don’t worry, it whispers, soon you will be found.

“That’s enough.” A voice, coherent and clear, calls out from the darkness. It chills the boiling violence within until it’s nothing but a frozen chasm in your soul. Your hand still raised yet unmoving takes the blow you should’ve stopped, you feel the flesh and bone snap under the weight of a mouth with far too many teeth.

They raze through your flesh until you feel your weight shift, unbalanced and too light. Your blood is scorching against your chilled skin, and yet you still do not move. Arm missing and heart racing erratically, you stare into the darkness when steps grow closer and closer.

“I said, that is enough.” The voice scolds, and it’s enough to have you stumbling backwards a single step. “Even with such power, you’re a disgrace.”

Those spoken words rattle against your bones, and reverberate down into the pit of your stomach where perhaps if you had been given food—it would be on the floor with the spilled guts and blood of the cursed spirits. Heat shoots down your shoulder, along the newly forming bone and at the tip of your fingers you’re gifted sight finally. 

Fire blossoms at the tips of your fingers, and with a swipe of your hand in the direction of the voice—

You fall to your knees. Your heart aches violently in your chest, a battle between who you are now and who you once were. 

“No child of mine should be on her knees. You are a disappointment.” 

Your father. Cursed. He stands before you as the man he once was but also not. He’s taller, a skeleton of the man you knew him as. After the revelation that Sukuna had been the one to kill your father, you hadn’t questioned him as to why there was no body—you assumed that he was eaten, consumed for his flesh and the energy he possessed. 

Yet he stands before you, stringy flesh stretched far too thin across his chest. You can see no rise to his chest, no beating heart that struggles within a cage of bone and flesh. He was truly dead, and they had cursed him. Brought him back as something much worse, he hadn’t returned as a simple curse. 

He was too smart, too coherent and the wave of cursed energy that rolled off of him when he met your gaze was suffocating. 

Something cold and metallic tilts your head upwards, until you’re forced to stare down the bridge of your nose at the blade barely visible in the waning firelight still burning at your fingertips. Your father regards you with nothing but contempt, a rageful silence that you had been on the receiving end of time and time again as a child.

“You are not my daughter.” He snarls, and the skin on his face visibly stretches with his words. How long had he been locked in here to rot away even as a being of immortality? “A Samurai does not die on his knees. Get up and fight me, child.”

The blade that was once tipping your chin up clatters to the floor, your father fading from the light you produced until he was shrouded once again in the darkness. The offered blade is different from the one you inherited from your father inadvertently, it’s much too light to be considered his. It held no cursed energy, no imprint from your living father.

With one hand wrapped around the hilt, you use it to help yourself stand up from the ground. Blood and other bodily matters stick to your skin, a stench that would haunt you until the very day you die burns at your nose. Your feet slide through that same gore, your position shifting into one you had adopted so many years ago—the very one you had attempted to use on Sukuna that fateful night. 

You raise your arms up, a bicep covering the lower half of your face, and the sword raised above your head. You take in a deep breath, the hand lit with fire inching closer to the hilt of the blade until that light vanishes and you’re plunged into darkness that now feels more dangerous than it ever had before. 

Training whilst blindfolded was something you had endured as a child. You were told to become one with the blade, to use it as an extension of one's self. You need no eyes if the blade guides you, you only had to strike true and hard—there was no time for mistakes, no time for hesitation. Hesitation meant death. 

Without missing a beat. Your father strikes first.

He appears directly in front of you, a gust of self-made wind blowing you back just a step. You have no time to react, no time to even move when his blade comes up at you from a low-striking position. It collides with your blade, poorly deflecting his attack. But it doesn’t stop him. You can hear his feet shifting, sliding through the mess on the floor and you know what’s to come next—

His entire body spins, and the long haori he had draped over his body whips around his body. You only have a split second to twist your wrist, dropping a hand from the hilt so that you can turn the blade enough to collide with his own, they scrape noisily together with enough force that sparks trickle down the length of the blade. 

You push back, enough to break the stalemate hold over your own blade. It gives you room to breathe, to suck in a deep breath and steady your mind. But you are given no reprieve, no moment to think through your next attack. Sukuna had been going easy on, you realise, when your father effortlessly strikes at you in succession. 

It’s proving harder with each passing second to keep up with his movement, he possesses a speed that defies everything you know. Even when you pour out your own cursed energy in return, it is nothing in the face of a man who was known to be the fastest Samurai warrior in the whole of Japan. He was the Shogun for a reason. 

And that was before he had been granted an unlimited amount of cursed energy, speed and strength that would rival even Sukuna. 

He had become the monster you always saw him as. 

His blade slices like you were made of paper, it glides along your skin and digs deep in under a second. You’re struck with the pain before your body is thrown backwards into the abyssal darkness, wet and clammy hands grasp at your shoulders. Yet this time, they do not grab you to eat you or harm you. Instead—they throw you back into the fray. 

Even in Death, his loyal servants bow their heads to him. 

“You’re better than you had once been.” Your father's voice comments from somewhere in the dark. “Has that bastard trained you to fight?”

“No.” You snarl back, wiping a hand along your lips when you taste the copper there. “That would’ve been you, General.”

Condescension had never been a tribulation your father had faced in his living life, and evidently, he would not take such a tone from a woman of all things. He launches himself forward from the darkness, his blade drawn and poised to strike in a clean arc along your chest. You can only bring your own katana around to collide with his own, but something shifts within his cursed energy.

It duplicates.

There’s a single second, a pause in time and you feel your heart thunder at the feeling that bubbles over the violence within. It’s fear, you come to recognise, a feeling you had felt so many times before but this was different. It was the type of fear that came moments before death.

The air around you explodes, an expansion of cursed energy that slices at you from every direction. You feel the smooth glide of your father's katana against every inch of your skin simultaneously. You didn’t even see it coming, a move that should’ve been so easy to recognise and yet it blindsided you enough that you grow numb to the sensation of your flesh being flayed. 

“You continue to hesitate as you did as a child. That’s why you’ll die here today.” The onslaught of slashes on your body stop, and the coldness of his bloodied blade stings against the exposed muscle along the back of your neck. “Beheaded by a curse. How disappointing.” 

The blade you had been given slips between your bloodied fingers, clattering loudly in the otherwise silent pit. He had won and you didn’t even have a chance to fight back—to die to your father was worse than to die at the hands of the current Shogun. He would succeed in his plan of killing you, you’d be nothing but a smudge of ink on a page. A disgrace forgotten and scratched from existence. 

He hesitates, that darkness whispers into your ear, use it.

With what strength you retain in your arms, the muscles and nerves scream and burn in protest at being forced to move. Perhaps you would fail even to do this, as the pain is enough to cause your eyes to flutter close and your body slumps slightly with the effort.

“Fascinating.” Your father comments, however, the blade at your neck doesn’t move an inch. “You have grown in strength, even if just a little.” 

“Domain Expansion: Warrior’s Valour.”

The world around you expands rapidly, that coldness at your neck is replaced with the smoothness of a kimono you had been given by Sukuna—the one he had you wear when you were announced as his “wife”. The crisp white is a stark difference against the bloodied water at your feet, it ripples from where you now stand until it laps at the feet of your father. 

He stands before you instead, highlighted by the use of your cursed energy. Yet he does not look like the cursed spirit you had seen only mere minutes ago, instead, you see your father. The face he wears is the one you had seen before he sent you away, his body covered in his traditional samurai armour. 

You were no longer looking at the vengeful spirit of your father, but instead his soul. He stands in the domain of your creation yet it’s different from when you had last used it. There’s no field of red lilies at your feet, as they seem to be sparsely spotted around the sea of blood. 

A curious glance over your shoulder proves further that your domain had changed significantly with the new binding vow between yourself and Sukuna. Behind the Torii gate you stand beneath, there is a shrine. One of large bovine-shaped skulls and teeth; a mocking of a shrine made for a God and was instead a shrine for a demon.

“I see.” Your father draws your attention back to him, his eyes drifting away from the shrine behind you. “Despite how much I trained, I had never mastered a Domain.” 

Your father slowly lowers himself down onto his knees, and then into a kneeling seated position with his hands placed on top of his thighs. He looked weak like this, on his knees before you awaiting punishment.

And even in the face of certain death, he smiles at something. “I should’ve listened to your mother. She warned me that you would become my undoing, so I dismissed her—I was a mighty warrior, I would not crumble at the feet of my own child. Perhaps that is why the Gods took her from me, I didn’t heed their warning.” 

He laughs, and your chest constricts at the lack of emotion. “When we lost your mother, I thought she had cursed me with the challenge of raising a daughter I didn’t know how to raise. So I did the one thing I knew how to do. I raised a Samurai instead, and look at what happened.” 

“Mother would’ve hated what you became.”

“She hated me before that. Our marriage was not one of love, but convenience. Her family was dying and I was in need of an heir. Yet she did not give me one and her family still died.” His head lowers to stare blankly at his upturned palms, as if he could see the blood that had stained him for years.

“Why did the Emperor want me dead?” You ask before you can hold your tongue, and your father visibly bristles at your words. 

“He told me your mother was right. My undoing, the sword at my neck, the plague that would last for one thousand years. You. You were all of that, and I had to kill you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” You didn’t, how could one man know all of that information? It was impossible. 

“You don’t have to. It is done. You’re as cursed as I am, and you will die for it. Not by my sword, but your own. I am sorry that I couldn’t save you from such a fate.” His eyes close when he tilts his body forward more until his head is pressed just at the surface of the bloodied water and his hands cushion his forehead. 

He no longer spoke, and instead, he awaited his punishment—his penance for failure. And so, to honour his final wish to die as he wanted, you approach him. The blood wades at your feet and laps at the edge of the otherwise pristine kimono until you’re stood at his side. Your father does not move, he doesn’t move an inch when you find a sword in your hand and pressed to the back of his neck. 

“When we meet again, I hope it’s at the stream beside Mother’s favourite tree.” You comment, and you try not to focus on the way your father’s body shakes with a muted sob. “Until then. Rest well, father.” 

His words do not come forth, his goodbyes left unsaid as you raise the sword and strike smoothly. His head falls from his shoulders, dropping into the sea of blood at your feet where it openly accepts the offering of another death, another soul to add to its endless bank.

The domain fades away almost immediately, and at your feet is the body of your cursed father. His head detached and body stuck in a permanent bow. His words stung you as much as they confused you. He had told you that you were always destined for this life, to become a disaster for those who would encounter you. 

Did he want to kill you out of love, to stop you from enduring the pain you had so far in such a short amount of time? Or did he want to save his own legacy, to ensure that you were not a curse that plagued the Zen’in clan for centuries to come? 

You would never find out the truth. 

Purple flames burst up from his bowed body, so brilliantly bright that you can see the entire room for the first time. The walls are lined with cursed spirits, all of which are staring directly at you. Millions of eyes all watching, observing, waiting for your next move. 

You take a step, and they hold their breath. Something curls like the smoke of a fire deep in your chest, this feeling—it was something you had wanted as a child. When you had seen your father as the Mighty Shogun, his armies of Samurai who’d bow in his presence and not dare to look him in the eye. This feeling was power. Unbridled power, and you forgot just how powerful you are.

There’s no anger that corrodes your heart, no pain or sadness that you had removed the head of your father. Everything feels… still. Right. Acceptance perhaps would be the correct word to use, but there was nothing left to accept. You had come to terms with the terrible man your father was, and he had only furthered bolstered your hatred for him. 

A glance towards the entrance where you had been thrown shows there are no locks on the door, they were simply waiting to be opened. No one was meant to survive a fall into the pit, and that alone should have angered you. Yet, nothing came forth. 

Another step, and the room shifts with you. Dragged feet and heavy stomps follow you through the room, up towards the steep stairs where you come to another standstill. You turn to find the curses had surged forward, not to attack; but to follow. They stare at you with wide eyes, twitching fingers and you wonder just how much of their consciousness is left to follow the one they deem ‘the strongest’.

It would never surmount to the army of men they once would’ve been a part of, but it was an army nonetheless. They would die, and they would suffer greatly at the hands of the living men beyond this door but it would serve as a warning; a message to the Shogun and those who surround him that not even the cursed spirit of your father would be enough to take you down.

As you approach the door, you press your hand to the wood. It takes no less than half a heartbeat before numerous deep cut lines appear on the door—and then it explodes outwards into the hallway you had been dragged down. 

Silence follows the explosion of wood, a tension that waits to be snapped. Your foot crosses over the threshold and immediately you feel that caged darkness within burst forward. It’s enough to make you take a deep breath of relief. Here you were unrestrained, and the taste of freedom was almost as good as the blood that still coated the back of your throat. 

Your feet are saturated in blood, a trail of bloodied footprints follow you as you traverse through the dark corridor. You knew they were aware of you surviving their failed attempt of snuffing out your light, they would’ve felt the second your cursed energy roared to life. 

The weight of the katana in your hand feels heavier than it should, exhaustion is going to hit you soon. Pushing back against something that tried to nullify your cursed energy altogether had drained you more than you realised, and now outside of that place where it tried to silence you—you can feel the toll it has taken on you.

A creek of a wooden door has you turning to glance over your shoulder, the gathering of following curses stop to clear the view of who was unfortunate enough to walk through that door. A man freezes within the doorframe, his hand trembles at his side; too frightened to raise his hand and draw his blade.

You only blink and you’re standing before him, so close you can feel the shaky breath that escapes his gaping mouth. You recognise this one, he was the one who hit you hard enough that blood pooled beneath your skin for days; it was a pain to heal. 

A grin blossoms on your face at the scent of his fear. 

“You—”

Your fingers hardly brush against the hilt of the blade you had dragged with you from that pit, a burst of pointed energy that has the man before you choking on his words. The blood blossoms at his side, not deep enough to cause immediate danger but enough that it should eventually cause him to bleed out. 

Another slice of your blade that’s otherwise invisible to the naked eye has him falling back the way he came, his hands slipping through the spilt blood in a vain attempt to push himself away; out of your reach. You raise your blade this time so he can see it, the tip of it poised to strike at his heart. 

“W-Wait! Please!” He begs, a man who had laughed at your agony… begs. 

That delights you. 

Yet, you still surge forward—and your sword misses its mark. You plant it into his shoulder, shoving him down until he’s forced flat onto his back and you loom over him. He screams in agony, no doubt soon he would alert the others of his plight but you don’t remove the blade—not yet.

“What was it you said to me?” You lean in closer, putting more pressure on the katana until it twists. “Oh, yes, you said I was good for nothing but a beating and a nasty fuck.” 

His nostrils flare at your words, tears rolling uselessly from his eyes. 

“I should slice you into ribbons. Feed you your own cock to show you how little it really is.” He squirms beneath your sword, and you twist it once again until he screams himself hoarse. “But you deserve worse.” 

Shifting your weight up, you rip the blade from his shoulder… only to bring it back down against his legs. It slices deeply, not enough to sever the limbs but enough to ensure he didn’t run. His hands grab uselessly at the gaping wounds, his fingers pressing into exposed flesh and flinching at the feeling of his own exposed bone. 

“Scream well, they like it.”

You don’t look back at the man who questions your words, nor do you look back when the horror dawns on him at the approaching horde of cursed spirits. Their delighted laughs and snickering voices drown out the man's indignant screams, only for them to be turned into gurgled sounds when they rip him apart—piece by piece. Slowly.

The corridors are deserted, and for some reason, it has your blood boiling beneath the surface of your skin. Did they not deem you enough of a threat that they hadn’t come running? You follow the faintest thread of cursed energy, faded footsteps that had been left behind some time ago. 

A door is ajar at the end of the corridor, and you can feel the outside breeze from where you are. That alone has you hurrying your steps, slipping only once in the blood that trailed after you. The fresh air stings against your newly remade skin, a bitter coldness that can only come with the darkness of night.

Pulling the door open slowly, you find yourself standing in a courtyard that connects the prisoner section of the estate to the main building. It’s grand, open and wide with beautiful trees and shrubbery that had been attended to by the servants of the Zen’in clan.

But it’s not the beautiful scenery that has you stopping. It’s the gathering of men and women in front of you, their laughs and joyous yelling is the only thing you can hear over the rapid beating of your heart. They’re celebrating. 

Lanterns are lit, as well as a generously lit pyre in the centre of it all. You can scent the sake on the breeze that brushes against you once again. To let your guard down and drink… they must’ve believed you to be truly dead. They were celebrating the death of the exiled Zen’in—one they never considered part of their clan in the first place. All because you were born a woman.

A glance to your side shows just how close you are to the large estate walls, the tops of mountains loom in the distance. You could escape, get out before Sukuna showed up and fell into the trap they had formulated by capturing you. You could stop the inevitable from happening. 

Instinctively, you take a step forward towards that wall. Your eyes blink away the grime and blood that had clouded your mind, this could be it. You could get away—

Why are you running away, that dark voice snarls in the back of your mind. Do you forget what they did to you?

“No,” you whisper out loud to a voice none but yourself can hear.

Then turn around and prove their fears right, it’s a voice you’ve come to connect with the part of your soul that had been corroded away and bound to Sukuna. Kill them all.

Invisible hands curl like icy tendrils around your arms, they pull you until you take steps back from the wall—from your freedom. The celebration is otherwise undisturbed, the drunkards unaware of the looming threat that stands in the darkness of the building. Hidden from the judgement of the moon. 

A stumbling man has your attention drawn away from the main gathering of people. His eyes are glazed over, drunk and unaware that he’s stumbling closer and closer to the open maw of a starved wolf. He reeks of sake and sweat, no doubt celebrating for hours it would seem. They fully anticipated your death, to be free of the curse that was bestowed upon them.

He stumbles directly into you, reeling back at the realisation he had bumped into a person and not the door he was seeking. “Hey!” He slurs, eyes hardly open when they squint at your face. “Move out of the way, you foolish woman—”

Slowly, those squinted eyes widen and the glaze of his eyes clears momentarily when he appraises just what you look like. Drenched head to toe in both blood of your own and your enemies, it mixes in with the stained ripped kimono you were forced into during your prison stay. The sword at your side points down at the ground, still shimmering in the purple cursed blood of your father. 

His nostrils flare and his mouth opens to scream, to yell that they had failed to realise you were stronger than they pinned you for. But you’re the one who moves first, his body collides with the floor hard enough to wind him. 

Despite being drunk, the man throws his weight upwards in hopes of dislodging you from his torso. Your knees dig painfully into the ground at his sides, and you’re forced to place your hands around his throat to hold him down to the ground beneath you. It was only a matter of time, mere seconds until someone noticed the commotion in the waning shadows of the building behind you.

Unable to restrain him further, he resorts to trying to push you away. His fingers sink into the flesh of your cheeks, dragging sharp untrimmed nails deep enough to draw skin and muscle apart. He scrambles to push harder, to dig deeper, when you start putting more pressure on his throat. 

His fingers scratch at your eyes, the sharp pain that follows is enough to drive you forward. You crush his throat into the ground, the snapping of his spinal cord is a satisfying ripple that bounces down the length of your very own spine. He still breathes, however, albeit in a ragged way like that of an injured animal.

With blood in your eyes, and skin torn apart on your face, you lean into that feeling of pleasure, of joy, of hunger. You’d been starved for far too long.

He doesn’t scream when you lurch forward—can’t. Can’t air his pain when your teeth sink into the flesh of his cheek, sharpened canines that you’d known to exist there bite through the muscle and fat of his face as if it were nothing but flimsy meat. You pull your head back in one smooth motion, the rip and tear of his skin is lost to the sound of the festivities just a few feet away. 

The man still lives. You can see his teeth through the now open wound of his face, and you chew on the flesh of the man in front of you. The blood that washes down your throat and coats your skin is hot, a comforting warmth that you had not yet been given the chance to experience firsthand. 

His flesh is tough, stringy and chewy all in one but you do not stop eating, working your way through that patch of flesh in your mouth until it’s all gone. Then, when the man is on the verge of dying from blood loss, you smile down at him. With blood smeared across your teeth and the wounds on your face starting to heal, you lean down to his face once again. 

He must believe in his final moments that you’d take another bite from him, as he squirms under your body. You tighten that grip on his throat, squeezing and squeezing until you feel the tips of your fingers join—and then you pull.

His head comes free from his shoulders, a spray of blood that soaks into the muddied ground. He lies still beneath you, the warmth of his skin melts through your sorry excuse of a kimono. It wasn’t enough, you realise, that ravenousness inside of you grows only in intensity at the first taste of human flesh.

Fresh human flesh.

Your fingers sink into the hair atop of the man’s now detached head, and you stand up—over your prey. You glance away from the kill and towards the crowd of people; undisturbed, unaware, unafraid. You want to laugh, you want to scream but most of all, you want to feast.

A single step forward, and you disappear from the spot. They don’t even see you coming, nor do they have a moment's chance to react to the burst of cursed energy. An energy they had hoped to snuff out for good, one they hoped they would never have to face. 

Skin you pass by learns the bite of your sword and your tongue learns the taste of blood diluted with alcohol. They don’t scream at first, not until they realise what was happening. Not until they see you run your blade cleanly through three men all standing idly around the lit pyre in the centre of the courtyard.

Their upper bodies fall with a thud to the floor, and that silence that follows the death of another is only a heartbeat long before women scream, children cry and men call for arms. Chaos—uncontrolled chaos, and you. You’re the epicentre of it all.

A man comes at you from your side, his blade raised over his head in a sloppy attacking stance. His face is red with anger, or perhaps it’s just the spray of his own blood when you swipe your hand in his direction. He freezes in place, the sword held over his head quivers for a moment and you wonder… was that not enough? 

But your answer comes swiftly. His body falls apart in five perfectly sized slices, his eyes are wide and the blood that follows is like that of misted rain. Yes, that was more than enough cursed energy.

The sound of someone scrambling to grab at the wooden handle of a shoji door has your head snapping in their direction. A man, younger than the rest, no more than a teenager is trying to escape… perhaps in another life, you would’ve faltered. You would’ve hesitated, but to hesitate was to die, it was to be defeated—as hesitation was the cause of your father's ultimate demise. 

And so, you didn’t hesitate in rearing your arm back, the katana in your hand transformed into a makeshift spear before you launched it in his direction. The teenage boy all but screams before he slams through the paper door, the blade now pinning his head to the wall within the building. 

Now unarmed without a blade, it would seem the men assumed you were much easier to kill. They come at you in waves, their swords raised and they strike at you without missing a beat. Katanas slash through the air, the slice of them enough to cut even the air around you. It’s easy enough to defend yourself, to manipulate both your own cursed energy before throwing Sukuna’s at them.

They didn’t stand a chance against it, their fleshy bodies falling into nothing but thin strips of meat or clumps of meat when they tried to fight against the pressure of your cursed energy. And yet, this fight is only angering you further.

You knew the Shogun to have sorcerers in his midst, Samurai who could also use cursed techniques and you don’t doubt that the Zen’in clan themselves had men who were strong enough to be their own standalone unit. And yet, they don’t come at you with cursed techniques or even a lick of cursed energy. 

Did they think you were unworthy? That you were a waste of time and effort to fight properly? 

You grit your teeth, your jaw aches at the pressure and you can feel the spike in your own cursed energy. The hairs rise on the back of your neck and you can see the men visibly falter in their swings when they realise just how much you’re pouring out. Fine, if they didn’t want to take you seriously…

A sword swipes at you, and you duck down to plant your hand flat against the ground. You’d only seen Sukuna do this once and that was enough. You pour out your cursed energy into the ground beneath you, it cracks and rumbles beneath you until it explodes upwards. The men around you are thrown up into the air, rock and debris crushing their legs and throwing their blades to be lost in the chaos.

Time comes to a slow stop, their bodies hung in the air with the chunks of earth you had uprooted. But you, for the first time that night, visibly waver at the amount of energy you had just poured out. No doubt the usage of the domain from earlier had drained you, and the wound bestowed across your stomach had not yet fully healed. 

You could still feel the slightest restraints on you, deep down in your blood where it slowly boils away. You were running out of time, you had to finish this and get out. You didn’t want to, you wanted to cause more pain and suffering to those who had ripped you away from a life you were starting to love. 

Bodies crack onto the floor around you, splattering and scattering remains among the ruined earth. You had no time to kill them precisely, to make them suffer—you simply just let them fall to their deaths. 

“HEY!” A voice cuts through the buzz of your mind, and you glance up. A pair of brown eyes find yours and then… your body freezes. You feel the muscles tighten as if you had been struck by lightning, you can’t move a single finger. You grit your teeth, or you think you do but you know in reality—nothing is moving. 

The man who had called for you exudes crude pride as he strolls closer, the cursed energy that rolls off of him is muted in comparison to your own but it was enough that it had caught you off guard. You want to move, to twitch just a finger in his direction and watch him fall apart. 

They had waited until you grew weak and tired, cowards. All of them, cowards. You can feel their signatures slowly appear around you, their cursed energy roaring and ready to go. They’d rip you apart when you were down and weak… how foolish of you to go all out.

“The one with Six Eyes told us you were dead, that we’d be fine to go and fuck the local village girls instead of guarding you.” A voice, a new one, comments from your left. You can’t turn to face him, but you can feel him growing closer. His energy was hot, like a blistering fire. “But I heard that he was fucking you, and that you made a deal. You kill us and he gets to fuck you like the whore you are.”

A few shadowed figures laugh at the comment, snickering no doubt at the vile words falling from the unknown man's mouth. A hand slides along your jaw, smudging the blood that had gathered there during your short-lived rampage. You still can’t see him, but now you can smell him. He smelled like fire, smoke and ash. His cursed energy was suffocating each time you tried to take a deep breath through your nose.

“How about you let us have our way with you, and then we kill you.” He snickers at his own question, the tips of his fingers dig into your cheeks in an attempt to force your mouth open. “Hm? Give us what we want, and I promise you’ll love every single second of it.”

You want to turn your head to look him in the eye, but your muscles protest and your tongue thickens in your mouth each time you try to force the words out. You want to hiss and spit, to thrash your way out of his hold but you can’t move. Nothing is working the way you want it to, you’re utterly hopeless. Again.

You throw your cursed energy out again, forcing it to slam against the invisible hold the one with brown eyes had put over you. It falters, only for a second, but it’s enough of a second you need to move your head. Your teeth sink into flesh and bone, the blood sprays the back of your throat and you hold on with all your might when the unknown man tries to rip his hand back.

“YOU STUPID BITCH!” He howls in pain, and finally, you meet his eyes. He glares down at you with onyx eyes, and you hope he can see the death grin on your face when you lock your jaw the second he shifts his weight to pull back—his finger comes free from his hand in a loud tearing sound. The severed finger sits heavy on your tongue, and the maimed man stumbles backwards. 

He moves, and you find yourself once again unable to flinch back at the sudden wave of fiery cursed energy. His entire sword erupts into flames, not of the same calibre as your own or Sukuna’s, but flames nonetheless. 

“I’ll make sure you suffer.” He snarls, spittle snapping from his gritted teeth. You wish you could bare your teeth in return.

Instead, you find yourself nearly toppling over from a sudden crush of cursed energy, it drops from the sky with an almighty bang. The ground beneath you splinters further and the buildings surrounding you shudder. Your body moves finally, the invisible shackles you were in release and you find yourself grasping at the thing that had wrapped itself around you.

An arm. An arm with a matching tattoo to your own.

“There you are.” 

‣‣ Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

[gentlyweeps-world]

Confessions

summary: You and Logan open up after some alcohol.

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, none

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

It was well known that you and Logan liked each other, at least it was well known between your friend group.

The longing glances in crowded rooms, shy smiles being shared, always ending up besides one another, always being fidgety around each other, truly the list goes on.

You didn’t pick up on any of it, mostly focused on the fact that “he’s a Formula One driver, why would he ever be interested in me”.

“You know that’s bullshit right?” Your friend Stella says, moving around the bathroom as she adjusts her hair and makeup.

“Well I think it’s perfectly reasonable and logical..” You grumble out, rolling your eyes at her.

It was summer break, your friends and you free from University, and Logan free from Formula One for a tiny while, and with that your friend group decided why not rent out a cabin in the woods with a pool. Wanting to relax and party, let loose as some would say.

“Listen to yourself Y/n! You are completely delusional!” Your other friend, Morgan says, leaning against the door frame to the bathroom. “If I had those situations with a guy you’d be screaming at me to wake up and realize we’re perfect together..” She adds on.

After a moment of silence you finally reply, “Fair point..” You say with a small sight, touching up your own hair and makeup.

“Well I think we look hot so let’s go out and drink!” Stella says with a cheer, ushering you and Morgan outside and to the fire pit, where the other guys were waiting, beers and seltzers at the ready.

Chairs were situated around the fire pit, obviously, you take a seat next to Logan, gratefully accepting the seltzer he handed you.

“So how do you think this night will end?” He asks with a grin, glancing at you then back to the flaming fire, taking a drink of his beer.

“Hmm, Morgan and Dalton will end up hooking up again and…” You say pausing, looking around at your friends laughing and drinking around the fire, “Stella will end up relentlessly flirting with Oliver..” You finish with a grin.

“Honestly..not a bad guess..” He says with a grin and chuckle, eyes twinkling as he looks at you. Now of course you didn’t realize the way he looked at you, “So..how’s the racing life treating you?” You ask, as if you hadn’t been invited and gone to some Grand Prixs and didn’t stalk his social media.

“To be honest, this break is welcomed, and just needed.” He replies, sipping on his beer and looking at you. You give him a soft smile, knowing the truth behind his words. “It’ll let up, I know it will..” You say softly, “Anyway- let’s talk about something fun!” You add on.

“Like what? You know there isn’t much other than racing and cars to me.” He grins.

“You’re boring..” You grumble out jokingly, “Any girls in your life now that you’re a hot shot in F1?” You ask teasingly, truly just wanting to know.

Even if you asked your friends many times, and they’ve said he isn’t seeing anyone, you still needed to hear it from him. “Well..” He pauses for a moment, deciding to make you sweat just a bit. “Not currently..but there’s potential in someone, I think.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Well I won’t grill you for any more information then..” You say with a smile, drinking your seltzer.

———

Hours have passed now, you and Logan are the only two out in front of the fire now, alcohol flowing through your veins as you and Logan giggle and laugh, sharing stories back from high school.

“You know, you’re beautiful when you laugh.” The comment slips out so easy it surprises even Logan. “Damn it..I mean..” He pauses for a moment before chuckling.

You could notice his face flushing up, dimples on show as he awkwardly smiles and chuckles. “Well- you’re pretty handsome when you laugh..” You say drunkenly with a grin.

“Wait- do you remember when we were younger and- and we were having a sleep over- which why did our parents let us do that? Anyway! During that night you had fallen asleep on my shoulder- you looked so cute like that..” You mumble out, slurring your words as you smile thinking back on that memory.

“Are you saying I can still be cute..?” He asks teasingly, smirk on his lips as his cheeks are turning a soft pink. “Well yes of course that’s a stupid question..” You say, rolling your eyes.

There was a beat of silence, you could only make out the crackling fire, crickets and owls in the background. “Can I kiss you?” Logan asks hurriedly, with not much thought behind his words.

Although it was a simple question, it had left you stunned. Eyes wide and lips parted. You could make out the instant regret on his face, “Shit- I’m sorry Y/n..pretend I didn’t say that” He rushes out, regret and disappointment clear in his eyes.

“Yes..yes you can kiss me..” You speak up finally, shock and surprise wearing off.

Logan didn’t have time to think because he leans forward rapidly, his fingertips touching your cheeks and his other hand making its way to the back of your head as his lips press up against yours. He kisses you gently, wanting to take you up in his arms right now but he knows that would be going too far.

“Sorry I took so long to do that..” He murmurs between kisses, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you close.

“It’s okay..you’re doing it now..” You whisper out, moving to a more comfortable position, and tangling your fingers into his blonde hair.

Logan lets out a moan of content, placing his forehead against yours and letting himself be lost in the moment.

“Mhmm..” He whispers softly, his hands roaming along your back and down to your waist. “I have wanted to do this for so long....”

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?” You ask, eyes sparkling with admiration as you look at him.

The words are still slurred due to the alcohol and it’s effects are strong right now. “I wanted to, trust me.” He responds, eyes never leaving yours. “But I was worried your would have laughed at me and rejected me..” He replies, a small smirk playing on his lips. It was a valid reason, yet you would have never rejected him.

“Logan I’ve liked you since grade school..I wouldn’t have rejected you..” You say with a soft smile. “You liked me back..?” He asks with a shocked tone to his voice, his smile widening. “I guess I missed all of the signs you threw at me.” Logan laughs, kissing you again then resting his forehead against yours, you could feel his heat radiating against your skin.

“We both definitely missed the signs..” You say with a giggle, your body warm and tingling, not just because of the alcohol.

“Maybe we’re both just idiots.” He says laughing, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you as close as he can. Logan is enjoying this moment, and it is obvious that you are as well. You could feel his breath against your skin, his fingers tracing along your back ever so gently.

“Definitely..” You murmur out in content, happy the pieces finally came together.

“Let’s go Logan! Woo!!” You could hear Dalton cheer from the cabin. You and Logan look at each other with sheepish grins and flushed faces.

Logan gives you a grin, taking your hand and standing up with you. “Oh god that idiot..” He shrugs it off as he pulls you along to the cabin.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: A little Logan fic for you guys! Send in any requests or comments! 💙

#formula one #formula 1 #forumla 1 #logan sargeant #formula 1 x reader #f1 #williams f1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one fic #williams formula 1 #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant x you #logie sarge #williams racing #f1 wags #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #gently weeps fics #gently weeps

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘮𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦: 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘵 ★ || han j.s

★ summary: after cleaning up the amazing dinner you all had, you, chan, han, and jeongin walk to the convenience store to get some drinks. you stick close to han, thanking him for being such a sweetheart to you. the four of you get back to the house, and then the nine of you relax by the fire pit. one too many drinks later, you end up tangled in han's embrace.

★ characters: bang chan, lee know, changbin, y/n (he/him pronouns and a masculine frame), hyunjin, han, felix, seungmin, i.n

★ warnings: alcohol, drunk skz, drunken sex, unprotected sex (don't be like them, guys), they're falling in love your honor, the reader is the bottom in this one, sorry not sorry

★ word count: 3.8K (3587)

★ binnie's thoughts: welcome to part three of the mixtape: black diamonds series! we're almost to the end of the series and i'm a little sad...but no worries, i have another series coming soon!

★ requested?: X

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so enjoy! this part contains smut, so minors do not interact!

“Alright, everyone text me what kind of drink you kids want!” 

Chan’s voice rings out through the house, and you can hear various replies from the members who aren’t coming along. You shrug on your coat, watching as Han tugs on his shoes next to you. 

At first you didn’t want to walk to the convenience store, but when Han notified you that he was tagging along, you jumped up eagerly (you nearly fell when you jumped, but you played it off real smooth). You’ll take any opportunity you can get if it means you get to spend time with the younger male. 

You slip on your shoes, standing by the door with Jeongin, waiting for your leader to lead you all to the corner store. Once the oldest male appears, the four of you venture out into the biting nighttime air. You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself. You didn’t really expect it to be so cold out tonight, or else you would have brought a bigger jacket. 

Suddenly, you feel light warmth at your right side, and you look over to see Han walking beside you. There’s not much room in between you both, maybe about the width of a toothpick’s worth of room. You flash him a smile, and he gives you one in return. Jeongin and Chan walk a few feet ahead of you, the two of them locked in conversation. 

You and Han walk beside each other, your arms touching occasionally due to the close proximity you two are in. You playfully nudge his arm, making him stumble to the side dramatically with a soft laugh. He nudges you back, and it goes back and forth for a bit. The two of you stop, giggling like little schoolgirls talking about crushes. 

On the topic of crushes, you find yourself stealing short glances at Han whenever he’s near you. You often take in his appearance: his ashy gray hair, his naturally tan skin that reminds you of the summers in Georgia. His smile, gummy and wide, his eyes crinkling into squinty crescents. His laugh, so loud and joyous, it makes your heart swell. You want to make sure he’s always smiling and laughing, you never want to see him sad. You don’t want to admit that you have a crush on the younger male, considering that you’ve really only known him for a couple of hours. But you can’t deny what your heart feels, so maybe you’ll just keep your feelings to yourself until you feel that the time is right. 

“So, how did you feel about being put into the group like this? I’m just a little curious.” Han asks once you both stop nudging each other. You think about his answer for a second before replying.

“At first I was upset. I trained for three years, hoping that I would be put into a group, each and every one of us climbing the ladder to success. I was hoping to debut just like everyone else, having to get to know my group mates and finding out if our dynamics will work or not. I didn’t want to be shoved into a group that was already so close-knit.” you reply, keeping your eyes glued to the rocky street under your shoes. You kick a small rock, watching as it rolls a few short inches in front of you. 

Han hums as he listens to you, taking in your words. He may not understand exactly how you feel, but he understands that being thrown into a group that’s at the peak of its career can be quite scary for one person. At first he was iffy about having a stranger join his found family, but the more he talks to you, the more he wants to get to know you as a person. 

He wants to know everything. Your favorite color, favorite food, favorite animal. Are you a morning or night person? Do you have any hobbies? Do your freckles go past your face, do you have any on your body? Do you have more beauty marks that litter your body? 

Do you whine when someone touches your soft skin?

Han shakes his head in shock. Where in the hell did that come from? He doesn’t know what came over him just now, he’s never really thought about anyone like that before, especially not someone he’s just met. He fights the red hue that creeps up his neck and ears. 

He notices your eyes on him, and he opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it. “Han-ah, your ears are super red. Is it too cold out for you?” you say to him, a slight tease to your voice. 

He slaps his hands over his ears, shaking his head in denial. “No! I’m perfectly fine!” He defends himself with a huff followed by a cute pout. You laugh at him as you notice the bright lights of the corner store come into view. You speed up a bit to catch up with Chan and Jeongin. The three of you enter the little store as Han hangs a bit behind. This guy is going to be the death of me, he thinks to himself as he speeds up to follow you into the store. 

You walk up and down the drink aisle, taking in all the options. You wish you had some money, because there’s a strawberry margarita drink that’s calling your name. You huff and search for Chan. Once you find him, he gives you a confused look.

“Did you not want a drink?” he asks, reaching up to grab a drink for one of the other members. You tilt your head.

“No, I don’t have any money.” you say, lightly scratching your arm due to light nervousness. 

“Don’t worry about it. The company is paying for it.” Chan replies with a cheeky wink, grabbing another drink and placing it in his little shopping basket. He chuckles as you rush off to grab the drink you want. He takes the drink from you as you walk out of the store with Han and Jeongin. He remembers being very iffy about you joining the group, but now that he’s gotten to actually talk to you and he’s heard your story, he finds himself wanting to protect you. Even if he’s not an actual father, it just feels natural to him. Call it a father’s intuition, if you will.

You stand outside the corner store with Han and Jeongin, and you’re showing Jeongin some pictures of your pet hedgehogs, named Sonic and Amy (Amy isn’t even a female hedgehog, but that doesn’t matter to you), the two younger males cooing and fawning over the spiky little creatures. Once you all see Chan stepping out of the store, you turn your phone to face him. 

“Chan-hyung, look at my pets back home!” you say in English, your smooth southern accent thick as you speak. You scroll through the hundreds of pictures you have of Sonic and Amy in your gallery. Chan just chuckles, finding your adoration for the small animals cute. 

“They’re super cute. Do you miss them?” Chan asks as he starts walking back to the house they’re staying in. Somehow the hefty plastic bag gets passed to Han, who dramatically complains about the weight of the bag. Jeongin just laughs, ignoring his hyung’s cries. 

You shake your head at Han before you turn your attention back to the oldest male. “Yeah, they live back with my ma and pa. I wish I coulda taken them with me, but they woulda hated travellin’ all the way here.” you say, stuffing your chilly hands into the pockets of your puffy jacket. 

Han listens to you speak in English, and he picks up how you pronounce the words. He notices that it’s totally different from how Chan and Felix pronounce English words. He’s never heard an accent like yours, it sounds like butter, or the smoothest caramel being drizzled over an icy bowl of ice cream. He wants you to whisper in his ear, so he can pick apart your accent in a more intimate setting. He wants you to say his name, wants to hear you tell him that he’s doing a good job at pleasing you. He tries to rid himself of those thoughts, but it’s impossible when you’re having a pleasant conversation with Chan just a few steps in front of him.

Han feels Jeongin saddle up beside him. He already knows the younger is going to say something totally obvious. 

“You like YN-hyung, don’t you?” He says, the slyest of smiles painting his face as he looks at Han. Han sputters in shock at the younger male’s bizarre accusation. 

“Wha– no way! We just met him today!” Han defends himself, crossing his arms across his broad chest. Jeongin just snorts out a laugh, not believing a word that comes from his hyung’s mouth. 

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, hyung.” Jeongin doesn’t comment on it after that. But now he has some juicy gossip to tell Seungmin once he gets to the house. 

The four of you finally arrive at the house with the drinks. You step into the house, sighing deeply at the warmth that engulfs you. You slip off your shoes and tug off your jacket. You make your way into the house, following Chan as he goes to the area where the fire pit is. Han follows behind you as he slips on the slippers he was wearing previously. 

The nine of you are sitting around the fire pit, Han is to your left while Felix is at your right. You have a thick blanket draped on your lap, the other ends of the blanket draped over Han and Felix’s laps. You’re nice and cozy in your chair, your sweet drink in your hand as you listen to Changbin tell some story about his childhood. 

He’s yelling about something his sister had done to him back when he was younger. You can tell he’s becoming more drunk, his neck is starting to turn a little red and he’s kind of stumbling over his words. 

Honestly, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy yourself. You’ve never been amazing at holding your alcohol, but you don’t get shit-faced after two drinks like other people. But you can’t deny the light feeling in your bones, the sweet but artificial taste of strawberries lingering on your tongue. 

As you all begin to finish your first drinks, some of the boys retire for the night. The two youngest are the first ones to leave, and Hyunjin follows them not long after. You and the remainder of the boys are all talking and drinking, you’re telling them the story of how your twin sisters locked you outside of the house as a dog chased the three of you down the street. 

“So I trip and fall flat on my face, and the older twin, Baehwi, just ran faster towards our house. The younger twin, Dagum, she ran track at the time, was already at the house and she was holding the door open for Baehwi. I’m laying on the concrete, my nose is gushing blood, and there's a massive dog coming my way,” you say, sitting up in your seat as you retell the story, “I manage to get up and run to the house, but my knees are all scraped up and i’m still stumbling.

“I finally make it to the door and I try to open it, but it’s locked. I was freaking out and banging on the door, crying and bleeding from my nose. The dog is pretty damn close now, and it’s inches away from biting my ass. But my dad came to my rescue, he opened the door and chased the dog off with a broom. Now I’m terrified of big dogs.” You finish your story, bringing your drink to your mouth, tipping the can up, finishing the rest of the sweet liquid. 

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Changbin slurs his words as he nearly falls over in his chair with a strangled shout, making you all laugh. 

You all miss the devious look on Lee Know’s flushed face as his brain plots something. “How about I start us off?” He asks as he sets his empty drink down. He’s got this smile on his face that just screams that he’s up to no good. 

“YN, truth or dare?” 

You turn towards him when you hear him say your name. You’ve never been one to turn down a dare, so you grin at Lee Know. “Dare.” you say with full confidence.

Lee Know grins wider and crosses his arms with his eyebrow cocked. “I dare you to sit on Han’s lap for the rest of the game.” He says, earning a round of gasps and ‘ooh’s’ from everyone else. 

“That’s it? That’s too easy.” you say and get up from your seat, and you plop yourself down on Han’s lap. 

Han absolutely malfunctions. You just sat yourself on his lap as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You’re seated right on his half-hard dick and you wiggle a little to get comfortable. He bites back a moan as your ass rubs against him. He bites his bottom lip, and his hands automatically wrap around your middle as you finally get comfy. Han knows he’s a little drunk and undoubtedly very horny, because he adjusts his hips and he knows you can feel his dick through his pants and the blanket. 

“You look mighty comfortable, YN-ah,” Lee Know says, his gaze zeroed in on Han and his red-tinted cheeks and ears, “are you comfortable too, Hannie?” he teases.

Han grits his teeth at his hyung and just gives a thumbs up. 

The game continues, each of you doing stupid dares and answering stupid questions. You and Han remain by the fire pit, everyone else retired to bed. You’re still seated on his lap, but you’re facing him now. Your arms are around his neck, your chest flush against his as you lay your head on his shoulder. His hands are placed on your ass, his fingers lightly gripping the meaty flesh. 

You lift your head from his shoulder and you look at him. You take in his features, the shape of his eyes, to his cupid’s bow. You think he’s so handsome, especially like this: red-faced and his hair all messy. You run your hand through his hair as he looks up at you. You exchange smiles before you find yourselves leaning on closer. It’s not much longer until your lips are meeting in the middle. At first the kiss is just an experimental press, until you start to move your lips against Han’s. 

The two of you kiss for a bit until it becomes a full-blown make out session. The two of you are pretty much humping each other in the chair meant for one person. You’re grinding your hips against his, and you can feel his hands roaming your torso under your teal sweater. His hands are cold compared to your warm skin. It makes you shiver. 

You finally pull away from Han, lightly panting as you stare at each other. You both break out into giggles, neither of you believing that you just made out like it was nothing. 

“Why don’t we take this inside? We can use my room,” you offer, your fingers tangling in his ashy gray strands of hair. Han looks up at you, a dumb grin painted on his face. You snort out a laugh, “why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because you’re just so pretty and hot sitting on my lap and kissing me. It’s driving me crazy.” He says, his eyes closing when he finishes talking. 

You shake your head and remove yourself from his lap. He lets out a whine followed by a pout, his eyes opening once again. This man is definitely not beating the babygirl allegations, you think to yourself as you pull Han up and out of the chair. His body slumps against yours, his head in your neck. You feel him place wet, open mouth kisses on your skin, making your knees a little weak (they’re already weak because of the alcohol, but who cares). 

“Come on, I’m horny and want you inside me like, right now.” You say to Han, and those words alone make him perk up and drag you inside the house. He makes a beeline for your room at the end of the hall. He throws the door open, pushing you inside, gently, and locks it once you’re both inside.

You stumble a little as the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. Han makes quick strides towards you and he connects his lips with yours as he pushes his chest against yours. His hands are on both of your cheeks as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. You move your lips against his, your own tongue gliding against his. You can taste the sweet and semi-bitter essence of the alcohol he was drinking not long ago. 

The two of you keep making out in a different position. Han is hovering on top of you, his lips not leaving yours for a second. His chilly hands are rubbing shapes along your naked chest, your shirt long gone in the corner of the room. Han grinds his hips against you, his hard cock slides against yours through your black sweatpants. 

Han pulls away from the kiss to breathe. He looks down at your face, your eyes half-closed, your lips glossy with his saliva mixed with your own. Your chest is heaving slightly, trying to keep up with Han’s eagerness. You’re dizzy, your head is spinning with lust and intense amounts of need. 

Han tugs off his shirt, tossing the fabric behind him, not caring where it lands. You bring your hands up, gripping his pecs which makes him let out a soft groan. You grin, pinching his skin near his nipples. His mouth falls open, the slight pain from the pinches making him moan softly. You finally pinch his nipples, rolling them between your fingers. You drink in the whines he’s letting out, the sound no different than the sweetest music. 

After playing with his chest for a bit, you both move on to the good stuff. You both rid yourselves of any remaining clothes, and Han flips you onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and lifts them up until your hole is level with his face. You allow yourself to be manhandled by him, the feeling of his hands gripping your flesh tightly. 

“Your skin is so soft, and you smell so good all over,” Han says, his cool breath fanning your hole, causing you to clench a bit, “even here.” You feel his tongue prod at your hole. 

You jerk forward a bit, but Han tugs you right back to him. He holds your hips tight to make sure you don’t get away from him again. He licks at your hole some more, until he slips the tip of his tongue inside you. You whine out, the sound mostly muffled by the pillow under you. 

He works you open with his tongue and fingers until he deems you ready for his fat cock. He’s so hard that it’s becoming painful. His tip is damn near purple, a bead of precome gathering at his slit. He pulls away from your ass, wiping his mouth to rid himself of the slobber. He admires the view in front of him: your head is down, ass up in the air. The flesh of your ass is tinted red from how hard he was gripping onto you. Your hole is slick with his spit, your cock and balls hanging heavy in between your thighs. He can see the precome dripping from your tip, the semi-thick liquid falling on the bed. Your body is shaking as you breathe out. 

Han decides not to use a condom, he’s too drunk to care about using one. He just gets on his knees, lining his hard cock up with your hole. He pushes the tip in first, drinking in the noise you let out. A high pitched whine mixed with a moan. He allows you to adjust to the feeling, waiting for you to give him the green light. 

“Sunige,” you whine out, raising up to look at him over your shoulder, “please, move..” 

Who is he to deny his adorable hyung of that? He would be considered a monster. He slides his entire length inside you, his tip lightly kissing that spot deep inside you. You bite into the pillow under you, drool falling from your mouth. Han scoffs and reaches forward, tugging your hair. He pulls your head up, causing your back to arch. 

“Who told you to hide your moans in the pillow?” he asks, his voice harsh and commanding. It catches you off guard (especially after he just snatched you by your hair..). 

You cry out as he slowly starts to thrust his hips inside you. He still has a nice grip on your hair, your back arched as he rocks into you. “I’m sorry, Sungie.. I won’t do it again.” 

“Damn right you won’t. I’m the one in charge right now.” He growls out and he slams his hips forward and back, causing your body to jerk forward from the amount of force. 

He keeps pounding into your body, and you’ve already come twice. You can tell he’s holding back, not wanting to cum too early. You just happen to be more sensitive, which always leads to multiple orgasms on your end. You do feel his thrusts become sloppy, and his breathing picks up. You know he’s close, and you can feel a third orgasm creeping in your bones. 

“Holy shit. You’re just sucking me in, baby.” He says, giving a few more thrusts before he buries himself deep inside you, his warm cum filling you up. 

Your poor arms give out from under you, your upper body collapsing on the bed. You’re panting, trying to come down from such an intense moment. Han remains inside you, a little afraid that if he does pull out, you’ll start dripping all over the bed. He pulls out, quickly bringing his hand to your ass, cupping around your hole just in case anything does fall out. He reaches over to get some tissues and he starts cleaning you up. 

When he realizes that you haven't moved, his semi-drunk brain thinks he killed you. He frantically moves to see if you are indeed still alive, he lets out a breath of relief. You’re alive, snoozing away. He’s amused, you fell asleep so quickly after all of that exertion. 

“Well, sweet dreams, YN-hyung.” He chuckles and makes himself comfortable under the blankets with you. You automatically latch onto him, nuzzling into his warm body, still very much asleep. 

You don’t know what this means for the two of you, but that’s a conversation for sober YN and Han. 

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #kpop x reader #stray kids x reader #male reader #stray kids smut #han jisung #han jisung x male reader

[definitelynotshouting]

honey it's starting to storm

Summary:

"Dude, quit squirming!" Scar's laugh starts as a deep, bright rumble in the pit of his stomach, soaring from his throat to punch the air in short, ribboned strokes, each a brilliant star between them. The air here is warm, dazed, an illuminated snow globe— except the globe is his tree, and the snow drifts in downy feathers outside it, forming an intricate latticework of frostbitten fingers that crawl up the sides of his windows. They’d retreated here an hour ago— once their impromptu snowball fight with Doc had transcended from three hermits to thirteen— all shivers and chattering teeth, drenched to the bone. Now, with the fire stoked, sweaters both discarded and exchanged, neither one of them can ignore how the bedraggled wreck of Grian’s feathers are in desperate need of preening. "You're doing this on purpose!" Grian's retort is tart, but it lacks true bite, curling high as a silver wisp of smoke. "Sto— stop it, Scar, stop trying to tickle me—!"

HEY FELLAS WELCOME BACK TO THE SCARIAN TRAIN AND THIS TIME WE HAVE FLUFF!!!!!

Wing preening fluff to be precise >:] just ignore that im posting a winter fic i wrote in December at the beginning of March 😭😭😭 i actually meant this to be a sort of season 9 closer, but in reality this is just the incredibly gay wing preening fic LOL

This fic is primarily based off of THIS lovely art by @isjasz which made me wail so hard when i first saw it that i had to immediately rush to my google docs to write smth abt it. I also mightve snuck in some back kisses on @goldmusicn3rd's suggestion >:]c

As always, likes are lovely, reblogs are even better, and commentary in the tags or on ao3 will be utterly cherished and probably screenshot by me to reread over and over again whenever i need a boost. Thanks so much for reading, and i hope yall enjoy the fic!!!

#scarian #goodtimeswithscar #grian #desert duo #hermitcraft #hermitshipping #hermitblr #mcyt #wing preening #my friends told me this was so gay it made them homophobic /JOKE #actually i rlly did pour the queer heart of the sun into this fic I WORKED HARD OKAY #i cry i sob. them...... #anyway for once i bring you fluff >:] this definitely isnt so that the next chap of hunger au hits 20x as hard #shouting speaks #my fics #lnk

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 14

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: And we're back!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

You roll your chair back to your desk and sit, shoulders hunched and head down, focused on your screen. You're too embarrassed to discern any of the cells on numbers inside. Your cheeks and nape are alight with self-awareness.

"That was entertaining," Shari remarks as the wheels of her chair squeak.

"Don't…" you mutter as you click aimlessly.

You can't believe what's just happened. You're humiliated. That must be Colin's goal. To tear you down not just in your own home but every part of your life.

You hear whispers, lowered voices, and clearing throats. Your ears prick as you're certain that they're all talking about you, about the dramatic scene that just unfolded. And how could they not, it's always more enjoyable to be in the audience than the show.

Your teams bings with a new message. You tap the key to mute your PC and open the chat window. You nibble your cheek as you read Jonathan's message.

"We will discuss shortly. Take five if you need."

Shit, shit. This is it. You're going to be fired. You know it. Why wouldn't you be? You've brought your chaos to work with you.

You minimize the window without responding and go back to your mortifying trance. You sit and stare at the blur of lines, only realising as a tears breaks free that you're about to fall apart completely. What did you do to deserve this?

Not just Colin, but Jonathan. You're too nice for your own good. From now on, you should just commit yourself to a recluse lifestyle.

Another message pops up, the red dot taunting you to open your teams. But it isn't what you expect. It's a new conversation, from the district officer. Oh, oh god.

You muster what little courage your possess and click the chat. You read the message slow, several time over to make it register. You're in trouble, a lot of trouble.

'I have been informed of today's events and have spoken with Mr. Pine. I expect you to find a quiet place for our call in fifteen minutes.'

You lean back, dizzy and breathless. Your chest is so tight you fear you might be going into arrest. Oh, shit!

"You okay?" Shari looks over from her cubicle.

You gulp and let out a gurgly 'mhmm.' You grab your phone and shove yourself out of the rolling chair. You scurry away without explanation and clumsily find your way to the employee bathroom, checking the stalls before locking the door.

You set your phone on the counter. If you'd just ignored it, none of this would've happened. It's your fault. All of it. You need to learn to read boundaries but set them too. You lost sight of them with Colin and didn't have enough with Jonathan. 

Your phone lights up. Jonathan. Of course, he'll want to speak. Does he know about your meeting? You'll wait until you know if you still have a job to speak with him.

You look at yourself in the mirror and try to shake off your nerves. That pit in your gut tells you exactly how this is going to go. Well, you can at least be brave and face the end.

You swipe away the notifications without reading them. You sign into your work account on Teams and let yourself out of the bathroom. Lucy scowls just outside and you give her a sheepish look before fleeing.

You find an empty conference room along the next corridor and check the schedule hung beside the door. You jot in your name and let yourself in. You hunker down at the desk, gathering the last of your wits. This day just doesn't want to end.

If you had just kept it all inside, if you had just got over it, if you had avoided your overly interested boss, you could be going home in an hour with nothing more than a pan of frozen lasagna on your mind. That's not how it goes. As always, it must end in disaster. Just like that boy you thought you loved in high school, the one who never saw you against the wall, not until he wanted a laugh.

You take a breath and prop up your phone against a pen cup. You stare at the time, waiting as the meeting invite hovers before you. You tap it a few minutes before it's scheduled and sit in the waiting room. Dread rises to suffocate you, taking the air out of you as you prepare for the worst. You've always been good at that, you've come to expect it.

Tina Cazera, the District Officer, appears in her flawless contour on the other end of the call. You sit up and try not to let your doom burn through. You can't even smile, you're like a guilty dog, wagging its tail meekly in the corner. Two other squares appear on the screen as more members join the chat. You refuse to look at the bottom frame where Jonathan sits before the backdrop of his office. 

"Alright," Tina begins, "I have invited Jeff, our HR representative to attend today to supervise this discussion. He will be documenting this meeting to make sure that we meet all policies and standards."

You nod and Jonathan grumbles his reluctant consent. You thought he'd already be talked to. You clutch your hands together tightly in your lap and push your shoulders back.

"So, I've spoken with Mr. Pine about today's episode but I think it's only fair to get everyone's story, and it would be required for the incident report," she explains, "so, you have the floor, miss, please explain what occurred today in the office."

You swallow and part your lips. How do you explain this without it all seeming insane? You close your eyes and concentrate, flicking your lashes up as you focus on the margin of the chat.

"I was working at my desk..." your mouth is dry, painfully so, "and my neighbour arrived and had an outburst. I understand that it was inappropriate but I didn't invite him there or even encourage him. I can't explain why he showed up but when he did, he said some things and Mr. Pine arrived and they... er... they got into it."

"Alright, let's go back, what were these things your neighbour, the trespasser, said?" Tina prompts.

"He... He just suggested that I... have an inappropriate relationship with Mr. Pine, but I... I don't. I didn't do anything--"

"He's been harassing the woman," Jonathan adds.

"Mr. Pine, you've had your say," Tina dismisses, "why would these accusations be made?"

You shrug. What can you say that won't immediately put you in it? You stayed over at Jonathan's and then he stayed at yours. Nothing happened but who would believe that? Especially when people like Shari could interpret your friendliness as more.

"I don't know. Like Mr. Pine says, my neighbour has been... bothering me and--"

"And how would Mr. Pine know that?"

"Well, I mentioned it," your lip trembles through your lies. Not exactly false, but some information withheld.

"You mentioned it amid what, a budget meeting?" She challenges and clears her throat. "We've evaluated this situation and we're already dealing with enough fallout from your previous boss' mistakes and in our review. We cannot afford another controversy."

You squeeze your hands, digging your nails into your nails. You frown and stare at your pathetic expression in the frame. You suck your lip in and shake your head.

"So, we've assessed the risk and the cost of this...unfortunate occurrence. We cannot afford to lose Mr. Pine. He has shown himself an asset to this company and has the credentials that would warrant only a slap on the wrist. But as you welcomed this into the workplace and have continually crossed professional lines, we would ask that you take a leave until we the ethics board can thoroughly evaluate."

"Leave?"

"Unpaid," she affirms, "effective immediately."

"What?" Jonathan hisses, "this wasn't her. It was that man--"

"Mr. Pine, please, you would only dig the hole deeper," Tina warns, "we recommend you clock out and go home, miss."

You're speechless. You expected it and yet it's still a punch in the gut. You can only nod and eke out, "yes, ma'am."

You dare to look at Jonathan, his forehead ripples with discontent as his lips thin. The call ends just as his eyes seem to meet yours and you're left in deafening silence. What are you going to do now?

💗

You wait until you're certain everyone else is gone. You can't bear to face them or your shame. You can just imagine Shari smirking at you.

When you do emerge, it's an hour after your usual time out. You creep over to your desk and sign out. You pack up your bag and keep your phone in your pocket. You've had enough trouble.

"Ah, there you are," Jonathan's timbre halts you as you head for the door. You pause and blow a deep breath out before you face him, "I was waiting to make sure you had a way home–"

"Yep, the bus," you cross your arms.

His brow arches and his lips twitch, "now, you know you shouldn't–"

"I shouldn't have let you help me so much. I should've taken care of myself and now, now I don't have a job-"

"It is only a leave," he counters.

"Easy for you to say. What am I gonna do without a pay cheque?" You stop and pinch the bridge of your nose, "don't answer that. Just like everything else, it's not your problem."

"Darling, I did try to plead your case. I assured them it was not anything you asked for," he strides past the other cubicles. You back away and adjust your bag, "you can't be mad at me, I can help–"

"You've helped enough," you throw your hands up, "I don't need it. Okay? I'm not as pathetic as you think I am."

"I never– I don't think that," he sputters, "surely, you must realise I think more of you than that."

"I don't know. I don't. I just need to be alone," you spin and storm towards the elevator.

"Wait, but what about Colin–"

"I'll deal," you swallow, stomach flipping as you recall the pictures he sent of your trashed apartment, "I am none of your concern."

"I am very concerned," he follows you.

You push the button to call the elevator and he turns, stretching his arm across the metal doors, blocking you. You huff and look away. You cluck then turn to stomp towards the stairs.

"He will be waiting for you–"

"And?" You hurl over your shoulder, "maybe he's what I deserve."

"You cannot–"

"You are not my boss anymore," you twist around to face him once again, "got it? I quit. I've caused enough problems. It's over. Just leave it."

He flinches, hurt painted across his features. You sniff and back away, pivoting slowly to push through the door to the stairs. He calls your name but you don't react, grabbing onto the railing and hurtling down the stairs

You don't need these men. They just bring problems. You're better off alone. You should've realised that earlier.

💗

Another nasty surprise greets you at your front door. To your relief, it's still on its hinges with some scratches around the handle from Colin's intrusion but intact. Across the wood is carved a single word; slut. You sigh and quickly hide yourself inside.

You realise only too late that you don't know if he's inside. The eerie silence of the building piques your suspicions. You keep a hold of your keys and flip on the light.

The place is tossed upside down. You can barely take a step without meeting a broken shard of glass or a torn page. Dishes, books, and other possessions litter the floor.

You make your way warily across the front room. This is what you're left with. No job, no friends, and soon, you won't even have this dump.

You grab the broom and continue up the hallway to your room. Nothing there or in the bathroom. No monster lurking under the bed or in the closet.

That can't be it. He ran into your work and made a scene, fought your boss. You know that's not it.

You go back into the front room and check the lock. It still works. That doesn't make you feel much better. If he got in once, he could get in again. 

You're startled by a sudden banging on the other side of the door. Your heart hammers along with it and you peer through the peephole. Ally snarls back at you.

You center yourself as best you can and slide the chain into place before you open the door. Ally pushes from the other side as you keep your toe against the bottom. You don't even know where to start.

"Are you fucking happy?!" She hollers, "he's gone!"

"Wh-what?" You stammer.

"They fucking arrested him you fucking loser."

"I don't know–"

"I should drag you! He's spending the night in jail because you just had to get him worked up," she hits the door with her fist.

"Wha–" you blink in exasperation. "He– he did it. I didn't call the police. I don't even–"

"Whatever. You're full of excuses. You've always been so fucking lame," she blows a raspberry at you, "if I see you, don't say hi."

She kicks the door and yelps. She rolls her eyes and sneers, marching away with a limp and disappearing into her own apartment. You shake your head, confused but reassured that Colin's locked up. At least that's what it sounds like.

You close the door and twist the latch. You slide your phone from your pocket and search for a playlist. You'll be up cleaning all night. It should keep you from acknowledging the missed calls from Jonathan.

#colin shea #jonathan pine #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #colin shea x reader #jonathan pine x reader #the night manager #what's your number? #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #series #crushed

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (VIII)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 1,385

CW: angst

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n its been so long since i last wrote this, i had honeslty completey forgotton about all of my fics, i do hope the writting isnt too different and that you all enjoy! sorry its short!

Also the ages of the charecters as i myself keep getting confused (and i've changed some of the ages a little): Visenya - 17, Aemond - 18, Jace - 14, Luke - 11, Aegon - 20 , Heleana - 19

Kingslanding

Visenya

With her mother being the heir, she had expected a much grander greeting. She pictured a courtyard full of eager lords and ladies, eager to see her mother after years away from court. And yet as her mother stepped out of the carriage the courtyard was barren; the few lords and ladies that were there seemed shocked and unaware of our arrival. It was clear the once welcoming feeling had gone with them when they had left for Dragonstone. 

Their greeting party solely consisted of lord Beesbury, seemingly the only council member still loyal to her mother, it even seemed that the keep itself was not what was for their return as shown by the replacement of Valyrian symbols with symbols of the seven. The home she, her brothers and parents knew was long gone, and the short years they had been away had changed the keep and people greatly.  The Hightowers had easily asserted themselves into power, and it was clear that they now ruled, perhaps in her grandsires stead. With the court laced with green gowns, and the higher necklines that Alicent seemed to adore, all influecne her mother had had been removed or hidden away. 

Not that it was surprising, as most who were loyal to her mother had too moved to dragonstone alongside them. It seemed Daemon was right about the red keep becoming a viper pit, full of hightower loyalsits. 

She had quickly left her family to go find Heleana, in hopes to see nothing had changed between them, though they exchanged letters, though less so since the birth of the twins, the letters she received now were filled with rhymes and poems in them, a part of her feared her dreams had become to strong and overtaken her. 

She knew all about Aeogns life, a little of their children, it appeared Aegon was the only one keen to keep her updated on anything in the keep and seemed eager to answer her letters, though they were mostly stained in wine and gods know what else. 

But it seemed that in her years away from kingslanding the halls had turned themselves into a labyrinth, the muscle memory of walking throughout the castel had vanished, and she was left a wandering mess. 

Though she had eventually heard the clashing of swords, orienting herself somewhat, as she realsied she was about to approach the training yard.

She first saw her brothers, watching the duel in awe, enough awe to capture her own attention and move her sights to said duel. 

Aemond.

He had grown into what she could only describe as a Valyrian god. With his long silver hair and sharp features, he was even more handsome than she imagined,  

and even more talented with a sword than she would have expected. 

He moved with such grace and finesse it was hard to predict his next move, nor his thinking behind them. Perhaps he was just used to ser criston having a sparring partner, but the way Aemond moved to defeat him could only be described, at least the Visenya was…hot.  His movements were a dance, as was the way his face light when we one, even more so when he saw her brothers. The smirk he wore could not be mistaken as welcoming if anything it was menacing, but also gleeful that her brothers, that lucerys the boy who took his eye, could see the man he had grown into.

she also smirked to herself, proud of him in some possessive way. Even more proud when his face went from gleeful spite to its own form of possession at the sight of her.

They had not seen each in years, ever since that fateful night of his thirteenth name day. 

And it was clear he had missed her, clear as he quickly stopped taunting her brothers with the offer to duel to move towards her, as if she was the very oxygen he needed to breathe.

And yet, she made no effort to move towards him. Despite the want and longing to see him again, the desire to be with him and now seeing him in his entirty, all she felt was hurt, abandonment and pain.

Visenya had never felt more alone than when she returned from Winterfell to Dragonstone. With only the letters form Cregan and Aegon as company. The only scrapes she would see of Aemonds life were Aegons complaints at him spending too much time with a sword or book, and when he was not with them he was with Vhagar.

Though she had had her family on dragonstone she always felt like an outsider. As if she was watching them love and be loved and she was simply an audience member, watching from the outside.

Hells her mother had treated her that way since Jace was born. 

But with Ameond he never made her feel like an outsider. And so too loose contact with the one person who made you feel truley seen, well it felt like she was dying. Drowning with no one to pull her back up to the surface.

And yet he looks at her and all of a sudden she is finally being pulled free and her life is hers again.

But she can’t help but still feel abandoned. Why did it take her coming to kings landing, for their wedding, to finally be seen once more.

“My bethrothed” He proclaimed, the smug expression once again returning to his face. “Have you come to see me defeat your brothers?” he questioned, sending Jace and Luke a taunting glare. 

Finally moving into the training yard, making sure to sway her skirts as she went, she proclaimed “I have not, bethrothed” she then smirked looking over to Jace “ i do not wish my bethrothed to be so humiliated as to befeated by his bride's baby brother” she sent him a glare. A glare she hoped was filled with  years of hurt and anger to him.

He laughed “oh Princess, i do not know if you understate me or seriously overestimate your dear brothers abilities”

she shrugged, a look of nonchalant crossing her face, “i do not care which, then again i do not care much to see the outcome of such a duel” 

She was sure she heard her brothers say something but neither her nor Aemond acknowledged it, their eyes and ears only focusing on one thing.

Eachother.

“Then why grace us with your presence if you do not wish bto be so thoroughly entertained?” he questioned, his smile remaining taunting.

“Am i not allowed to wonder where i please, in my own home?” she snapped.

“my my, back for a few hours and we are already calling it home, have you missed me so truly betrothed?” he questiond.

“what was there to miss? with no letters or name days gifts to remember you by, oh i could even argue i forgot you, especially with all the bids for my hand i have received since our bethrothal” she smirked

Aemonds eye turned visicous, his smile flattering. His eye too began to show the hurt that she hoped her eyes portrayed.

He stepped forward, his sword taken from him and placed on the rack. His full focus moved away from the tauting he thought to be fun and games, and now stood and looked almost worried, and all too serious.

“forgotten?” he whispered, “ I am truly that forgettable my dear Visneya?”  His voice was quieter, more hurt, and spoken so sofltley it was clear their conversation should be held under more private cirmunsatnces. 

“i-“ she  could not say it, not now, she frankly didn’t even want to think about it. To be so vulnerable, especially when she knew he wasn’t the same Aemond she had first been bethtothed to, that she had grown alongside. 

Luckily Jace inruptupted the two, eager to end what was begining. “Sister,” she said, grabbing her arm, “we should go to our chambers and settle in, should we not?” he spoke, his eyes begging to leave.

She turned to lopl at Luke, he looked on the verge of tears almost, worried that at any moment Aemond might snap and steal his eye in an act of revenge. 

She nodded, grabbing his arm, and sending one last look to Aemond.

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

@cathy1514 @iiamthehybrid @melllinaa @aleemendoza2425-blog @cassandra1995-blog1 @deltamoon666 @aelora-a @ryiana @isa-beenme @unique7676 @adriennepoison @idontknow12346hello @taragryenmoony @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar @leavesmealobe

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targeryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targeryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan nation #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x targaryen! reader #aemond x you #hissapphireprincess

[erza155-writes]

Ok but like I'm still thinking of the Hawthorne staff. I can't say I remember their last lines but omigods they were amazing showstoppers

Jeremy Louden & "The Mess" where the meal serves as a reflection but also Jeremy had the time to reflect on the greatness he was aiming towards but didn't want and he made a mess of himself and for what?

Katherine Keller & "Man's Folly" where the meal serves to bring the women together to feast before death and practice honesty as the men are being hunted; is this too not a perverse reflection of our society?

But also I think I'm just obsessed with Katherine in general because when they're walking back into the restaurant without the men there's this amazing wide shot where you can see how all the women are wearing heels and they're kind of shaking and Katherine's solid black vans' are gliding on the floor. + when she says "killing you was my idea, I pitched that" and I immediately became obsessed with her because here she is gorging herself on her own folly as she welcomes the diners to dine with her and the staff to witness her

Elsa & the barrel: I remember her last lines because holy fuck the implications in that sentence alone!!!! "I didn't forget the barrel. He never told me about the barrel." Because even in death she's still worrying about work and about living up to exacting unrealistic standards. But she's also amazing because her power dynamics with the customers were amazing because she was supposed to the server in a place of subservience but she was in control the entire time and it was amazing

But once again that last fucking line. It's like being slapped and then spit upon because she was perfect and it wasn't enough. But also as a reflection of Slowik because he pit Margo|Erin & Elsa against each other, but did he really mean to, or is it just another careless action that leads to harm that does not concern him.

Elsa is amazing because she proves that Slowik is just like his customers even when he doesn't care to realize or confront it

The sommelier & "The S'more" I know that the s'more was Slowik's dish/masterpiece but there's this shot where the sommelier is gleefully pouring the wine that will aid the fire and that scene is so dynamic to me because the entire movie he's been this contained character who's poured the wine while extolling it's background making it worth the price tag but then in that shot there's this sort of mad joy on his face because he's going to die, but at least these customers are about to get their comeuppance too. It's the face of someone who has already dug the two graves and is snuggling into the 2nd grave because the 1st has been filled the way he planned

I don't really know the name of the other servers but holy shit they were great at building and maintaining the atmosphere too!

#the menu #the menu spoilers

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Five

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy. Word count: ~2k

Chapter summary: Daemon deals with the fallout of Melessa's discovery. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Header by the insanely talented @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The thought tempts Daemon to go after Melessa, pull her to him and demand that she forgive him. However, it is Rhaenyra’s coronation and it has been shrouded in enough uncertainty and controversy, without her uncle chasing his weeping wife through the Red Keep. The very last thing the beginning of his niece’s reign needed was more gossip.

He sighs, only realising when he looks over his shoulder that the serving girl he’d pulled from the feast is still in the alcove, pressed against the wall, wide eyed and disheveled. Pathetic. He is unsure whether it is a thought he directs towards himself or her.

“Fuck off,” he hisses, not bothering to watch as she smooths her skirts and scurries away.

Leaning against the cool stone of the corridor, Daemon sighs. He does not know how to put this right, apologies have never been his strong suit. He can put together battle strategies for entire armies, cleave his enemies in twain, and rain dragonfire down upon those who oppose him, but his problem solving does extend as far as opening his heart and admitting to his own wrongdoing.

The very thought of going to Melessa and placing himself at her mercy by pleading for her forgiveness terrifies him more than any battle ever could. He owes it to her, though; she has given up so much in his pursuit of her, even more so since they were wed, and in a single misjudged act of foolishness he has made it all seem worthless.

His footsteps feel heavy as he trudges his way up towards their shared quarters, turning over and over in his mind what he might say to her.

I’m sorry.

It was a mistake.

It won’t happen again.

None of it feels good enough. Daemon swallows thickly, his heart pounding, as he pushes open the door, preparing himself to be greeted by the sight of his wife’s mournful hysterics.

He is taken aback when he finds her seated by the window, staring out of it. She’d appear almost serene were it not for the fact that her eyes are rimmed red from crying. She doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Daemon shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. He bows his head, taking a breath, before looking up at Melessa and uttering the first thought that springs to mind.

“Forgive me,” he says softly, looking at her with genuine remorse.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she says flatly, her voice listless. “It was silly of me to assume our marriage was anything more than a political tool for you to ensure Rhaenyra’s place as Queen.”

A pit forms in Daemon’s stomach upon hearing this. He had expected her to scream at him, to be met with heartbroken tears and burning anger, he would have welcomed that. This beaten-down resignation is more than he can handle; surely she does not believe the things she says? He stands there silently, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“You’ve gotten what you needed from our union, and it is childish folly for me to expect you to not want to bed other women,” she continues. “But now you have gotten what you want, I wish to return to Highgarden.”

Bile rises in Daemon’s throat at her admission. He fights the urge to grab her, to shake her and demand that she be angry with him. He doesn’t recognise the broken husk of a woman seated before him. She is lacking in the spirited brightness he has come to adore from his wife. Had his carelessness really snuffed that out?

He opens his mouth to speak, but finds the words won’t come. She beats him to it, dull and monotonous sounding.

“Don’t let me keep you. We can make the necessary arrangements tomorrow. Go back to the celebrations. Give the Queen my apologies for my absence; I am not feeling especially jovial this evening.”

Not knowing what else to do, wordlessly Daemon turns and leaves. His mind races, fear swirling in his gut at how withdrawn Melessa is, unsure of how to coax her back out of the shell she’d retreated into. 

Irritation prickles at him as he strides through Maegor’s Holdfast, back towards the festivities. The very notion of playing at being Hand of the Queen for a feasting hall full of slack jawed halfwits, while his wife slips away from him, seems ridiculous. His jaw clenches as with every step the sounds of merriment get louder.

“There you are,” Rhaenyra calls out to him from across the courtyard.

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your loyal subjects?” Daemon asks, walking to meet her.

“I needed some fresh air,” she says matter-of-factly. “Finished with that poor girl you dragged away earlier?”

Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing in agitation. “You saw that?”

“You’d sat at the table like a petulant child for the entire feast. It was the first time I’d seen you move all evening.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Of course I saw.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “Well, so did my wife.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra raises her eyebrows at this.

“She wants to go back to Highgarden.”

“And you’re going to let her?”

“What choice do I have?” Daemon asks irritably. “I can’t very well chain her up and force her to stay here.”

“You fought so hard to get her. Is she not worth fighting to keep?”

“Of course she is!” he spits, temper flaring at the absurdity of such a question.

“Then show her that,” Rhaenyra responds softly. “Fight for her.”

“Your coronation feast—” he begins.

“—Is almost over,” she interrupts. “I need my Hand’s mind to not be preoccupied while fulfilling his duties. Fix this, so I may have your full attention tomorrow.”

Daemon nods gratefully, walking away with a renewed determination to win back the affections of Melessa.

She has moved from her seat by the window when Daemon returns. He spots her standing at the foot of the bed, folding dresses into a trunk and he cannot help the white hot fury that boils under his skin at the sight of it. She really means to leave him. He cannot bear the thought.

Storming through the apartment, he snatches a gown from her grasp, the fabric tearing audibly as he does so.

It is the first time all day—since she caught him with the serving girl, that is—that her face has shown any visible emotion. Her eyes widen in shock, quickly morphing to anger as she scowls.

“What are you doing?” she cries in an accusatory manner. 

“I could ask the same of you,” Daemon says darkly. “You aren’t going anywhere. Stop behaving like a child!”

“It is not me who is cavorting in hallways with servants. You cannot keep me here as your prisoner!” she shoots back. 

He can tell from the way her voice wobbles that she is about to cry again and his heart aches at the sound, immediately regretting how he has handled the situation.

“Petal,” he pleads, his voice softening, still holding her now ruined dress in his hands. “You are not my prisoner—you are my wife.”

She shakes her head sadly, eyes closing as tears fall from her waterline and roll heavily down her cheeks. “I was an infatuation for you, one that you have grown tired of. Just let me go. Please.”

“You aren’t; I haven’t; I can’t,” he implores desperately, letting the garment he holds drop to the floor to reach for her.

She backs away, sniffling. “You know,” she begins, voice thick and watery. “It is not the utter humiliation of what you did to me that hurts most. It is that I have spent the past half a year trying to be the perfect wife for you and still I am not enough.”

Daemon hates this. Why will she not allow him to touch her? He cannot comfort her, cannot mend the broken pieces if he can’t hold her. He aches to pull her to him, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides as stares at her filled with shame and regret.

“You are enough,” he whispers. “More than I deserve.”

“You never say it back,” Melessa croaks. “Do you love me?”

Daemon balks at this, opening his mouth before clamping it shut again. He’d never uttered those words to anyone, wasn’t even sure he knew what such an emotion was. All he knows is that over the last six months something has grown within him, something dark and urgent that drives him to be with her, as though an invisible string tied his heart to hers. To be by her side was a need, not a mere passing fancy. If that was what love was, then he did indeed feel that.

But he has no idea of how to articulate that to her, how to make her understand that in his own unique way all of his heart belongs to her. So he says nothing, watching as she hiccups a sob before walking to the opposite bedchamber, the one that has remained unoccupied since they arrived back in King’s Landing, and closes the door behind her.

The anger builds quickly in Daemon, his patience threadbare at his inability to speak his feelings coupled with frustration at having made no progress in earning his wife’s forgiveness. With a snarl of fury, he picks up a small wooden stool that has been left discarded by the bed and launches it towards the nearest wall. It breaks apart on impact, clattering noisily to the flagstone floor.

“Fuck!” he shouts, before dropping heavily onto the bed, placing his hands over his face in frustration.

The smell of her clings to the sheets, almond oil and rosewater, maddeningly sweet. For a moment he considers barging into the bedchamber she now occupies and simply taking her by force. She’d have no doubt of his want or love for her if he felt how passionately he needed her. He thinks better of it. If she didn’t wish for him to even take her by the hand, it is doubtful she’d appreciate him rutting into her like an untamed beast.

He sighs. He has everything he has ever wanted, and yet has managed to ruin it. He could never allow himself to just be happy. It reminds him of when he and Viserys were children. They had had family visiting from across the continent who’d brought each of the boys a gift. Daemon had received a wheeled wooden horse, which he’d taken great delight in dragging around the gardens. Viserys had been given a model of a castle. To Daemon, it had appeared that Viserys was having more fun playing with his castle than he was playing with his horse. He’d taken it upon himself to destroy both toys. If he couldn’t achieve that level of happiness, then no one else deserved to have it either. Is that what he’d done to his marriage? Shame wells fiery and acrid within him at the idea.

He doesn’t realise he has fallen asleep, exhausted by the events of the day, until he is awoken by the creaking of Melessa’s chamber door. He sits bolt upright, anticipating the sight of her exiting through the door, but is disappointed and surprised to see it is Maester Orwyle instead.

Daemon stands, blinking back sleep, and stalks towards him. “Why the fuck are you creeping out of my wife’s bedchamber in the middle of the night?” he growls irritably.

Orwyle bows his head apologetically, a hint of fear in his eyes as he regards Daemon, glowering and tightly wound. “Forgive me, your Highness—your lady wife was having trouble sleeping. She requested milk of the poppy to help soothe her. You need not worry; I kept the dosage small, considering her condition.”

“Her condition?” Daemon questions suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Shrinking backwards with a gulp, visibly uncomfortable, Orwyle nods his head. “Y-yes, your Highness. She is with child.”

Daemon feels as though his heart skips a beat, a combination of shock and anger flashing through him in an instant that has him yanking the maester up by his robes. “She’s what?”

#daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon stannies #the rogue prince #prince daemon targaryen #pro daemon targaryen #hotd daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x ofc #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen angst #hotd smut #hotd angst #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryem fan fiction #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fan fic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic

[sterekfests]

Welcome to our Fall round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Fall Fest will run from September 3rd - October 7th in celebration of Fall, whether you enjoy drinking every kind of pumpkin spice drink or visiting a pumpkin patch every year. There’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs. 

We also have a Discord you can join that has events running such as @sterekbingo and @sterekweekly along with @sterekfests.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Fall Fests is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in!   This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart's content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. Use the tags #sterekfestsfall2023, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestssweater, #sterekfestsbaking, #sterekfestsbonfire, #sterekfestspumpkin, #sterekfestshaunted,

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust) 

Keep reading to see all the awesome theme weeks ahead!

September 3-9: Sweater Weather

As the leaves change to a beautiful rainbow of colors, it’s time for Stiles and Derek to break out the sweaters and savor some cozy autumn days. Do they explore harvest farms and drink seasonal cups of pumpkin spice latte? Or maybe they take a hike through the woods or visit a corn maze? The possibilities are endless as they embrace the season and all the flavors of fall.

September 10-16:  Baking

It’s that time of year when cool weather brings out everyone’s love for baking! Tarts, pies, pumpkin butter, cookies, cheesecake bars, and cobblers are on the menu. Is Stiles in a baking mood with the change of the weather, getting ready for the upcoming holidays? Is Derek making his mother’s from-scratch apple pie? Maybe there’s a local bake-off for a harvest festival, where Stiles or Derek is the undefeated champion, and the other has come to challenge them to an on-the-spot bake-off. May the best baker win!

September 17-23: Bonfire

The air is crisp and autumn’s arrival is the absolute perfect time of the year to take advantage of the cool nights and starry skies and to make memories around the fire pit with friends, pack, and family. Roasting marshmallows for s'mores and getting cozy with your mate is one of the many things Sterek can enjoy this Fall around the bonfire.  Are they having a pack get-together at the rebuilt Hale house where Derek is hosting a bonfire party for the pack? Or perhaps they’re at the beach building up a bonfire to fight off the salty chilly air? Wherever you take Sterek this Fall, they’ll be snuggly and warm, enjoying the starry night together.

September 24-30: Pumpkin Patch

It’s that time of the year when everyone loves to visit a pumpkin patch! It’s one of the most Fall things you can do. Are Derek and Stiles getting ready for October, which is just around the corner? Are they picking out pumpkins so they can roast the seeds and use the rest for tasty recipes? Or maybe they’re taking their family to visit the games, including hayrides at their local pumpkin patch to support local farms and their seasonal farmers market? Perhaps the pack shows up for family photo ops for Eli’s first pumpkin patch visit! The possibilities are abundant, along with those cute adorable pumpkins we can only enjoy during the Fall season.

October 1-7: Haunted House

Phantoms and demons and ghosts, oh my! With Halloween around the corner, Stiles and Derek would certainly be brave enough to visit a haunted house or two, racing each other to see who would make it out first. Or maybe they work in one, chasing screaming patrons through the attraction. Either way, their wild energy and fearlessness would make for some thrilling entertainment.

@teenwolffandomevents @thebigbangblogproject @sterekevents

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #tyler hoechlin #dylan o'brien #stiles x derek #stiles/derek #derek/stiles #derek x stiles #sterekevents #sterek event #sterek is eternal #sterek au #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanart #sterek edit #sterekedit #pack mom stiles #teenwolf #eli hale #teen wolf movie #derek #sterekfests #sterek events #sterekfestsfall2023

[tobitofunction]

🐉 part 9

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

TW: Blood,

You watched as carriages were filled with chests of different sizes,"Everything is nearly ready" Zuko said from behind you, he was dressed in casual clothes, something which you hadn't seen him in for a while,"Nervous?", he chuckled and nodded,"We are getting married so yeah and it's only our first ceremony as well" you smiled and walked towards him,"Thank you for agreeing to do this" you smiled placing your head on his chest, Zuko wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head,"It's part of your culture, I don't want you to lose that part of you just because you are marrying into mine" he said,"Will you be taking Haku or taking the boat with us?" he asked after a while,"I be taking the boat, Haku will be flying alongside us" you said pulling away from him,"You also be delighted to hear, that plan for a dragon pit is set in motion" your eyes lit up at the comment,"A couple of fire nation architecture's and builder will join us so they can inscept the pit themselves" you smiled widely and hugged Zuko again,"Thank you again" you smiled and kissed his cheek.

Haku was flying in the air peacefully, Zuko looked up at him before looking at the red egg still unhatched, he sighed and closed the lid of the stone container,"It will hatch don't worry" you smiled rubbing his back,"Teach me Valyrian" he said making you lift a brow,"You want to learn Valyrian" you said happily,"Yes, it's beautiful, mostly when you speak it" he said making your cheeks darken slightly,"Nyke krenyikhé bodmagho ao ñuha jorrāelagon " Zuko cocked his head making you giggle,"I gladly teach you my love" you said making him smile, he kissed your forehead when a servant approached them,"My Lord we be arriving soon" he said with a bow, Zuko nodded his head,"Let the others know as well, thank you" he said making the servant leave,"By Sun set tomorrow we be married in the tradition of old Valyria" you said holding his hands,"I can't wait"

"Wow, it's so cool looking" Kiyi said holding Ursa hand, who finally let her mother be close to her again,"It is quite impressive" she agreed,"Look at the dragons" Kiyi said pointing towards a small dragon flying behind it's mother,"Can I have it?" she asked excitedly but Ursa shook her head," Y/N, where do the dragons live?" Noren asked,"Those two are wild dragons so they live in the dragon mount a bit further from the castle, dragons like Haku live in the dragon pit" you explained,"There aren't many dragon's here, including the wild ones I say we have 11-13"," That seems like quite a lot," he said,"It's nothing to the glory of old Valyria," your Uncle said making you shiver,"Dragons roamed the skies like birds did, every child of dragon rider families received an egg at birth which always hatched, now they mostly suit for decorations," he said, "Uncle how glad I am that you are welcoming us," you said as you saw your Uncle,"I'm glad you found your dragon, your father is waiting for you all at the dining hall, your other friends are also waiting," he said, his eyes drifting towards your necklace, the gift he gave you, which you are still wearing, a small smirk played on his lips.

"Fireboy, good to see you again" Top said the second you all walked in, she punched Zuko in the arm making him wince slightly." Father" you smiled hugging your father, he kissed your forehead and squeezed your hand once the two of you parted from the hug,"It's been only 3 months but you have changed so much my sweet child, I missed you dearly," he said,"I missed you too, how are you doing?" he sighed,"as good as one can after losing part of your heart if it hadn't been for you and your sister, I be a dead man" you smiled sadly,"How is my sister doing?","she is a strong baby, just like you were when you were born and now you are getting married," he said his own purple eyes began to tear up but he quickly composed himself when Lord Coryls walked over,"Everything is ready for the dinner," he said,"Good to see you again Princess," he said with a small bow,"Good to see you too my Lord".

Dinner was quiet, you sat beside your father while Zuko sat next to you,"I'm curious what does your wedding tradition involve?" Aang asked breaking the silence," It's a union of blood and fire" your cousin said before biting into his duck again, "In old Valyria, blood magic is what made us dragon riders, not every family could do it, and the only ones who could, were made powerful" your father explained,"That's why we try to marry each other as often as possible, our blood is what makes us special" you said with a nod,"But now it's about to become diluted" your Uncle snarked making you sigh and your father rolls his eyes,"It will strengthen our bloodline, and we made a pact, your firstborn children will be wedded together" he reminded, making you sigh,"Has your egg hatched yet?" your Uncle asked turning to Zuko," No, it hasn't" Zuko said,"If it that isn't a sign" he hummed,"Your dragon wasn't born to you either Uncle, you claimed him when you were 12" you said making his smirk drop,"But still I got one dear niece" he said before getting up,"Where you going?" his wife Laena asked,"I have some business to attend to" he said kissing her temple,"Well this got awkward fast" Sooka said to Suki and Toph,"I love this family" Toph added making Sooka smile and nod while Suko just rolled her eyes at them.

Zuko held the egg above the fire,"Come on hatch" he mumbled,"They are like babies, they will come when they feel like it" you said entering the room,"Don't worry, it will hatch eventually. I have a good feeling" you said sitting down beside him, Zuko sighed and placed the egg on his lap,"What if it doesn't?" you shrugged,"Than it doesn't, my father doesn't have a dragon he rules this place" you said making Zuko look up,"Wait what?","Soon after it hatched, it didn't get along with the other dragons in the pit" you said with a sad expression," He was given another egg but it never hatched and he was fine with it, cause he knows a dragon doesn't define his strengths as a leader or his place within the family" you continued,"So don't define yourself either, you be a great husband" you kissed his cheek," Zuko smiled and placed the egg back into it's container,"What did you bring?" he asked finally noticing the stash of cloth,"The wedding attire for tomorrow, be careful with it, they have been in the family for generations" you said making Zuko nod, Zuko inspected the outfit the shoulders were red like blood and it blended into the beige of the rest of the outfit, it was lined with golden embroidery,"Nervous?" Zuko asked making you nod,"Yes, but at least I got to know and got to love you before we get married, not many people in similar positions have that luxury,"My mother didn't" Zuko said with a nod,"I see you tomorrow.

Zuko was met by the Chief of the sun warriors, Zuko took a deep breath before approaching him,"You suit the traditional clothing well" he said looking down at Zuko, evidence of dislike was evident in his voice, and Zuko couldn't blame him. Even though Dragon's do still exist, his ancestors still hunted them down to near extinction. "Now follow me this ceremony has many steps," he said,"Some, you find them familiar enough as you did some of them with the Avatar", Zuko nodded as he followed, the path becoming familiar to him,"Take a piece of the eternal flame and bring it to your bride who is waiting for you by the Master's with a flame of her own" he said slamming the bottom of his staff into the ground, unlike last time it was only him and the Chief,"Is their reason for this tradition?" Zuko asked curiously," The Dragon's came to us because of them, they are the blood of the dragon, previously you brought the flame to your show commitment to fire bending, now by doing this you will show the same but for each other. The Princess without fire bending carried the flame before you came up to the master's without the use of her dragon, now you need to do the same".

The way up was more tiring than Zuko remembered maybe it's also the clothing which added to it, as they were slightly heavier than what he regularly wore. He examined the flame in hand just to make sure it was still the same size and not too small or too big. Soon enough he was where he met the Master's last time, it was as breathtaking as the last time. His friends and family were already there so were your family and the sun warriors."You made it, good" the Chief said,"She is waiting up there for you" he said moving sideways to reveal the stairs, sun warriors were standing on each step on both sides, more lined up in a circle around the base of the stairs, he looked up at you, a torch was in your hand which was burning with Zuko assumed with the eternal flame, beside you stood even more sun warriors. Zuko carefully made his way up,"I thought you got cold feet" you smiled shifting the torch slightly,"I'm here now. There are so many more Sun Warriors here now than last time I was in this position" he said nervously, you smiled,"It's not as different than what you did last time with Aang" you said trying to ease him. The Chief appeared behind Zuko slamming his staff into the ground and making it stick, both of you turned to the Chief to allow him to take pieces of the flames of you, he then handed the flames to the warriors around him. The warriors used those flames to create circles just like they did for Aang and Zuko before."What do we do with these now?" Zuko whispered, holding up his flame,"You will see" you said turning around and handing the torch to a Sun Warrior whose hands where free, Zuko turned around and saw another free warrior and did the same. The man gave him a glare but he held it anyway before he faced you again.

"Princess?" the chief said,"We are ready? Aren't we Zuko?", Zuko smiled and nodded."Chanters!" he hollowed making the sun warrior who weren't carrying flames begin chanting like last time, Zuko reached for you hand as the music continued the horn blared signalling Ran and Shaw to come out but it was a different horn from last time, soon blurs of red and blue swished around them before,"The horn is from old Valeryia, it was used for weddings. Dragon's were always present in weddings to approve their rider's partner and the other dragon. As a wedding between riders is not only to unite families but also dragons. But as we are only family alongside the velar yon it turned into just having Ran and Shaw in it as a reminder of the fall of our people" you explained to Zuko who seemed a bit nervous. Soon the two dragon's stopped flying and stood facing each other with the two of you in between. The chanting has stopped as well. Zuko quickly looked down at everyone, everyone who wasn't holding fire was kneeling. Zuko felt a hand on his shoulder it was the Chief, he handed Zuko a stone, it was nearly clear, the light of the flames and setting sun shined on it,"Let me do it first" you said gently grabbing the stone. Zuko nodded, slightly embarrassed, you slide the stone horizontally over you bottom lip making blood appear, you placed your thumb on the cut making the blood appear on your thumb, Zuko than realised what will happen next, he gave you a small nod, you smiled and smeared the blood between the space of his brows, you than handed Zuko the stone who did the same, he handed you the stone back, you than cut your palm open a small wince leaving your mouth, Zuko followed but he showed no signs of pain, you held out our hand zuko placed his bleeding hand on top of yours, the Chief wrapped a red cloth around your joined hands as he began speaking,"Hen lantoti ānogar (blood of two) Va sÿndroti vāedroma (joined as two)-" as he spoke a female sun warrior showed up with a golden cup in her hand, she held it under the cloth as your joined blood dripped down into it,(-Mēro perzot gīhoti (Ghostly flames) Elēdroma iārza sīr (and songs of shadows)-" the chief motioned to the sun warriors who where holding the torch and Zuko's flame, the woman moved the cup and handed it to chief,"Don't panic" you mouthed, Zuko nodded he was slightly confused why you were telling him not panic but he was soon answered as the warriors used the left over flames to set the cloth on fire, his skin began heat up but you seemed calm so he tried to keep the panic to himself,"- Izulī ampā perzī (two hearts as embers)-" the chief said handing you the cup of your blood, you brought it to your lips slowly taking a sip before handing it to Zuko, who slightly hesitated before doing the same,"-Prūmī lanti sēteksi (forged in fourteen fires) Hen jenÿ māzīlarion (a future promised in glass) Qēlossa ozūndesi (the stars stand witness) Sÿndroro ōńō jēdo (the vow spoken through time) Rÿ kīvia mazvestraksi (of darkness and light)" he finished removing the cloth from your hands.

You smiled and touched Zuko's face gently making him smile. Zuko's hand cupped the back of your head pulling you in for a kiss. The dragons huffed making Zuko pull away from you in concern,"Don't worry if they didn't like you, they would have killed you the first time" you joked making Zuko smile just as the two dragons flew back into their caves. He looked down at his hand, it wasn't burned but slightly red and it stung a bit. He looked at your hand but yours wasn't red nor did it seem to hurt. "Congrats Princess....and Fire Lord" the chief said.

The two of you walked down the stairs to your friends and family,"Congratulations guys, it was a beautiful ceremony, it was an honour to attend. How can you top this Zuko?" Katara said,"Probably not, Fire nation weddings aren't anything like this" he said wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing you closer,"Thank you for letting us be here, it's truly an honour to see how other nation's celebrate," Aang said," It was cool, a bit gross with all that blood but still cool" Sooka said making Suki and Katara nudge him," I'm not big on tradition but yours are cool" Top said with a big smile,"It was truly beautiful," Suki said,"So romantic" Ty Lee added. "Thank you for attending guys, it truly means a lot to me" Zuko said as your father pulled you aside.

"My beautiful daughter is now married" your father said cupping your cheek,"I remember the day you were born clearly, it was one of the happiest day's in my life, today is a day happiness and sorrow as I won't be able to see you as often now, as you are part of the fire nation now","I'm still your heir father, and I will do you proud" he smiled and kissed your cheek,"I know you will, I wish your mother could see you" he smiled sadly,"She is watching father, I know she is" you answered making smile at you. In the corner of your eye you could see your Uncle, he had his arms crossed and was leaning against the rock,"I wish you a Wonderfull marriage cousin" Laena said taking your hands,"Thank you, I hope my Uncle is kind to you" you said honestly," You know your Uncle, he loves me in his own unique way. Mostly now since I'm with child" your face light it,"Congratulations dear Cousin, I hope for the babe to be healthy and a strong dragon rider","Thank you, it means a lot. He already found an egg, it came from the clutch of your mother dragon. I hope it's okay?" you nodded,"Of course, we are family after all" you smiled at her, Laena silver curls slightly blew in the wind. Laena moved away when her father and brother walked over,"Congratulations Princess, I hope the marriage is what you wish it to be" Corly said,"Thank you my Lord","You know where home is cousin, in case you ever need it of course"his son said with a soft smile, even though the wedding between the two of you never happened it was still good to see that he was good with it and not petty.

Meanwhile, Zuko was talking to his own family,"You have grown a lot Zuko. You be a good husband I know you will" Iroh said patting Zuko's shoulder before pulling him in a hug, "Thank you for everything Uncle" Zuko said tears rolling down his cheek, "I'm proud to see the man you have become, I wouldn't change the journey we had for all the tea in the world" Iroh said. Zuko turns to his mother,"Thank you for letting me be part of this, I wasn't there for you at your lowest moments in the past but now I won't leave your side. I be there whenever you need me Zuko" Ursa said hugging Zuko tightly,"Thanks Mother"."Zuzu, the dragons were so cool" Kiyi said in Noren's arms, her eyes wide and filled with joy,"I'm glad you enjoyed it Kiyi" Zuko said pinching her cheeks gently making her giggle. Zuko looked up from his sister to Mai,"Congrats you are officially in chains" she said in her usual monotone voice,"No, I'm happy for you Zuko, Y/N is good for you" she said a soft smile appearing on her lips,"Thank you Mai, I hope you and Kei Lo happiness as well" Zuko smiled, Mai licked her lips and nodded,"So you ready to be a dad?" she said out of nowhere making Zuko,"What?","Come on Zuko, this only started because you need an heir and so is she, if you didn't need one you only be dating" Mai explained, Zuko sighed,"Yeah I guess I never really thought about it....It's probably in inappropriate time to ask but if we never broke up, would you see us being in this situation?","No, I don't like the idea of marriage or kids really...I guess we are destined not be a couple" she sighed,"And yes it's not a good idea to ask your ex at your wedding this question. Congrats again Zuko" she said as you approached again,"Let's head back to Dragonstone" you smiled kissing Zuko's cheek making him smile.

You and Zuko walked towards your shared bedroom, both nervous about what was to come. Once entered you noticed some small changes, the bedsheets went from a cream coloured cotton to a red silky sheet, more candles were brought in, thin curtains were placed around the bed,"Wow" you whispered turning to Zuko, your blood was still between his brows and vice versa,"Do you want to take a bath first? To get rid of the blood?" Zuko asked,"Yes, that be good. I call the maids".

The maids prepared a bath quickly, the tub was filled with steaming water to the brim, flower petals were floating on the top. I slowly turned around towards Zuko,"We can have separate baths-","No, it's fine, we are married now" he said playing with your outfit,"Take it off" you whispered,"What?","Undress me, Lord, husband" Zuko's cheek flushed, but he smirked,"Only if you the same Lady wife"

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #avatar the last airbender #zuko x you #avatar zuko #zuko x fem!reader #zuko x female!reader #zuko fanfic #firelord zuko