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#been thinking about a few in particular though
some-bunniii · 3 days
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Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader
・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.
xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!
~ 15k words
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When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.
For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore. 
You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.
The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant. 
“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.
He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.
You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction. 
“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.
“Ya need any help?”
“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors. 
There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.
“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby. 
Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning. 
Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.
He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular. 
Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.
When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time. 
Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain. 
You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough. 
Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies. 
Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general. 
Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.
You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.
Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.
“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?” 
“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view. 
He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.
Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.
It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.
A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends. 
What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment. 
Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?
Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.
One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen. 
When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.
When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside. 
Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese… 
Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box. 
A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese. 
Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.
You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby? 
You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall. 
Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice. 
As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.
By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room. 
Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat. 
Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.
Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.
At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.
Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you. 
Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.
“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.” 
Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.
“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.
That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.
What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor. 
Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?
That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter. 
Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her. 
The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.
You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.
You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”
“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”
“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”
“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.
You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.
There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.  
He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter. 
Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.
Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.
“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it. 
“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.
“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.
You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.
“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke. 
Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat. 
Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again. 
“How is everything going?”
“Good,” you lied. 
“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you. 
Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.
You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him. 
Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.
You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet. 
His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.
He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.
Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure. 
You just needed to prove him wrong. 
“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed. 
It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you. 
“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.
Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.
“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.” 
Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls. 
You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.
Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over. 
Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.
Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times. 
That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.
“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.
Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.
“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”
“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”
‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’
“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.
You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.
You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.
Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence. 
“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you. 
“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite. 
“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane. 
You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?
“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”
“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?” 
“Yes…” 
“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”
He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression. 
“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.
“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression. 
Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 
“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.
“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”
Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.
“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.
The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway. 
“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.
Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.
“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.
The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.
That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.
The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there. 
It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.
“How’s the kid doing?”
“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”
“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”
“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”
“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”
You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.
You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.
Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.
Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.
Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.
“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.
“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.
In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet. 
Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.
“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar. 
Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.
“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek. 
Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details. 
You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.
Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.
Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you. 
You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing. 
In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion. 
Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.
But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm. 
Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.
The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.
Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it. 
You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond. 
What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?
That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.
As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.
“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.
It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.
“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.
“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.
“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”
“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!” 
You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room. 
“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner. 
“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin. 
“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon. 
“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee. 
“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.
Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.
Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.
You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.
You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.
Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry. 
“Hey.”
You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.
Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.
They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.
“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”
“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”
His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.
“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”
You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning? 
“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.
Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.
“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”
“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.
Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.
“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.
Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.
With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.
The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.
Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you. 
You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur. 
You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.
“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.
“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.
“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below. 
Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below. 
Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame. 
Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene. 
Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.
A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.
The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance. 
Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.
He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you. 
“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.
“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”
“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips  “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”
Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”
The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–
Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.
A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.
“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you. 
He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.
You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach. 
“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.
“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.
As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.
Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.
Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.
Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.
Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips. 
What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.
But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice. 
Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.
It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.
You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements. 
“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.
Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.
Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.
“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”
Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging 
“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.
You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.
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You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.
You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle. 
Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again. 
What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad. 
You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.
The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.
You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.
You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–
“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.
This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.
“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.
“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.
“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you,  "is she asleep?” 
“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.
“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.
You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly. 
“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.
Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free. 
You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth. 
You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure. 
“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”
“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”
“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”
“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.
“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”
Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.
“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.
“Wait! Please let me-!” 
The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.
Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.
You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.
It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.
You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.
Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night. 
It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.
You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.
Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.
Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.
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Lucifer.
His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.
You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.
“Lucifer?” 
The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.
“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him. 
The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.
“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”
Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.
You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore. 
“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.
Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you. 
“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”
Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.
“Can I kiss you?” 
“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.
You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest. 
Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.
Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss. 
Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.
“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.
The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.
“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. 
Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.
“What?”
Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.
“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”
Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.
“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”
Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought. 
“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.
“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”
The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.
They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently. 
Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.
“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”
You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.
“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.
“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip. 
And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs. 
Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.
“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.
You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?
“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.
At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.
“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”
Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed. 
With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane. 
“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.
“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”
The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.
It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours. 
Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.
Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant. 
You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle. 
“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.
When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.
“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.
There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight. 
It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.
Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor. 
It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.
Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.
"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.
You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs. 
When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms. 
It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.
It was clear, from day one, that the two of you were going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back. 
Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel. 
The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.
Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.
You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.
Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning. 
That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.
You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?
Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you. 
Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.
He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh. 
“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.
“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.
You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.
You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.
“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.
Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features. 
You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune. 
Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.
“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.
“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.
“I think… that I’m in love with you.”
Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.
Lucifer in love with you? 
Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.
“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.
You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened. 
Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.
Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.
You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.
“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”
A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.
“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter. 
Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.
“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.
He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.
“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.
“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.
Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.
Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’
“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”
“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.
The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.
“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness. 
“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”
You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way. 
Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate. 
Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment. 
Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt. 
You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.
Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.
“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.
She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.
“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.
You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.
The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest. 
You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant. 
It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness. 
From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.
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“Psst, Mom!” 
You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.
“Moooooommmm, wake up!”
You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.
The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.
“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.
Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features. 
“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”
Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.
Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure. 
“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.
“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”
You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her. 
“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist. 
You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.
“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.
“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.
You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat. 
“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.
“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.
That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.
“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.” 
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woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!
what did you think? let me know! <3
tags 🏷️
@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu
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ms--lobotomy · 3 days
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How do you think the other primarchs would react to say konrad, mortarion, or peterturabo getting a significant other before everyone else
Hi! I did a poll to decide who to write for, and Konrad won fair and square! I'll write Mothman someday I promise Here's your food.
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Summary: Horus and Fulgrim come into contact with Konrad's new partner.
Content Warnings: Fulgrim existing except Horus is more annoying because I like to write him as kind of a dick, uncomfortable social situation, Konrad is also a bit of a silly billy because I am unwell
Image Credit: @squishyowl
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You'd been wandering the Imperial Palace for hours now. You'd tried to backtrack a few times, but it had never worked. This wing was a lot more refined than what you were used to, with gold tastefully added in where it accentuated a particular piece. You reached out your hand to touch one of the ornate picture frames, you couldn't help yourself. The metal was smooth underneath your fingers, cold to the touch.
You heard their footsteps before you heard anything else, a pair of them. They were far too heavy to be that of baseline humans, or even space marines. You ran towards the noise, ignoring their idle chatter. If Konrad wasn't in the mix, they could at least give you directions back to his wing of the palace.
"Hello?" you asked, dashing around the corner.
You recognized the violet armor of the one on your left first. Fulgrim. You took a step back without thinking about it. You knew he was closer with Konrad than many of the others, but there was something about his presence that was unnerving. Almost as if he was too perfect. To the right was none other than Horus Lupercal, arguably the most important of his brothers with his fancy Warmaster title. He sported clean teal armor and stood slightly taller than his brother.
Fulgrim spoke up first. "Ah... you're my brother's partner," he remarked. He stepped up slightly closer to you, and you backed away.
"It's strange," said Horus. "I never expected him to be the first of us to get a partner, but here we are. How is he treating you?" He stepped up to come side-to-side with his brother again.
"Oh," you said, shuffling your feet. "I mean, I think it's pretty nice?" you asked. "He's--"
Horus cut you off with a chuckle. "Imagine that," he said, turning to his brother. "What do you think, Fulgrim?"
"I think..." he said, putting a finger to his lips and looking down. "I think that we should let the little one get a word in, don't you think?"
Little one? "Sure thing," said Horus. He looked down at you expectantly.
"I..." you started. Sure, they were around twice your size, but did that give them the right to... it was too much effort to contest it. It was probably best to just head back on your own. "I guess he sometimes just pops up out of nowhere, uh... I just wanted to know how to get back to his wing, honestly." You turned around to retrace your steps yet again.
Horus stepped in front of you. You looked behind you, and Fulgrim had that pleasant smile on his face that almost never left.
"We haven't seen you in person yet," remarked Horus. "Why don't you stay and talk for a little? I'm quite curious to know how our brother is as a partner," he said.
"Uhm..." you started, looking to the side. I can tell, you thought to yourself, though you wouldn't dare vocalize it. "I... he..." you started, sinking back into yourself. You felt your face go warm, and you fiddled with your hands. Horus looked down at you expectantly, a dickish smirk on his face.
You heard your name from a familiar voice. You snapped your head around to see none other than Konrad, hastily adjusting his armor. "You got lost," he said. You nodded, closing your eyes. "I see you've met my brothers?"
"Your partner is a delight to talk to," said Horus. "They should stay on Terra a while, I'd like to get to know them."
"I think they'd like to go," he said curtly. Horus stepped out of the way, and Konrad grabbed your wrist. You felt Fulgrim's stare at the back of your head, slightly bemused. "Isn't that right?"
"Very well," said Horus. "Talk to you later, I should hope?"
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conkers-thecosy · 1 day
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Five Fic Feedback!
Tagged by: No one! Seen this floating about a few fandoms, and decided to bring it over to bagginshield!
Rules: Pick five fics you've written, then tell us about how you feel about it vs how readers have received it!
1 - Bad Blood
My Thoughts: This one is way bigger than I meant it to be! It was going to be about 5k words and the only scene I had in my head was Bilbo biting the elven guard, haha! Readers: People really seem to love this one! I feel like feral Bilbo is always a crowd-pleaser, and this fic got much more attention than I ever expected it to! - 2 - Soldier My Thoughts: I'm really proud of this one. It was my first bagginshield fic, and it was after a loooong break from writing. Even though it's a bit weak in places, I have such a soft spot for it. Readers: I ended up re-posting this one after some harassment kicked my confidence down the toilet, but since then the reception has been very positive! - 3 - Poet My Thoughts: I'm sorry to say it, but this is probably my least favourite fic I've written. If it wasn't so popular I'd have removed it and altered the end of Soldier so it was just one fic! Readers: This fic seems to be very popular, and was the first time someone made art of my work - and more than once! I remember posting the first chapter and not expecting very much, only to come onto tumblr and see random posts where folks were super excited to see it was updating! It was such a lovely feeling! - 4 - My Ego Dies My Thoughts: I genuinely love this one, I think it's probably my personal favourite. I really enjoy playing about with the idea of "forgiveness" between Bilbo and Thorin, and this fic really scratched a particular itch for me! Readers: Probably my least popular fic - statistically, at least! I've found most folk weren't into it for one reason or another, but the people who love it, really, really love it! -
5 - Stealing Moments, Moments Away My Thoughts: I wish I'd taken more time with this one in some ways, but in others it really is the reshirement fic I wanted to tell. Again, I got to tinker with that "forgiveness" trope, and have a good look at what survival might realistically have meant for Thorin. Readers: This one is a quick read, and it's soft and fluffy, so I think readers enjoy it for that reason, though I believe some found it a bit boring. It was being updated almost daily, and the folks who were invested came back to comment and read practically every time I updated, which was just amazing to me! - 6 - Backs To The Wall (Sorry, I've written six, so I wanted to do all of them!) My Thoughts: I wrote this because it was something I wanted to read, and couldn't find. It's been amazingly fun, and I told myself when I started (knowing it was going to be fairly long - even if I didn't realise quite how long at the time, haha) that I wasn't going to take it too seriously, and I was really only writing this for myself, as the most self-indulgent kind of nonsense, ever! Readers: I can't begin to tell you how utterly blown away by the response to this I've been. Like?? It's just crazy to me how much folks are enjoying this, how excited and supportive everyone has been! I've been so grateful for everyone reading, and genuinely shocked down to my bones, haha! 💛 - No pressure tags for: @fantasyinallforms @lucigoo @lordoftherazzles @domesticgoddesswriter @thatfancygirlinwhite @lauramkaye @sass-y-squatch @mintedwitcher (and honestly anyone else who sees this and wants to do it, *waves a wand* you are Tagged!)
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feybarn · 3 days
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And I return with some ghost Obi. Thanks @queenaelinwildfire!
Spinning off of Sparky, ghost Obi haunting Jango Ooo bonus points if it’s smol obi wan
When the boy first appeared, Jango had been sure it’d been the spice. Hallucinations were hardly new and the young boy who stared at him with frightened eyes was hardly the strangest thing he saw. In fact, the boy who whispered warnings about when the slavers were coming, and told him that Neeva—the young togruta girl a few slaves down—was dying, and told him stories about men in white armor who died forgotten heroes, was perhaps the kindest hallucination that Jango experienced.
Except the boy didn’t go away. Not when Jango killed the slavers. Not when Jango detoxed. Not when Jango left behind all but the scars of his time with the slavers.
Jango hadn’t quite believed in ghosts before, but he had no other explanation for the boy that followed him unerringly from the slavers’ ship to Concord Dawn to the ugly, worn down ship he eventually acquired.
“You have a reason for haunting me, kid?” he asked.
The boy frowned. His hand came to his neck where a collar rested.
Jango had tried not to think about that particular accessory too much.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I… I don’t remember how I got here.”
Jango was going to guess that the answer included ‘dying’. “You need help moving on?” Jango asked. Though he had no idea how he would help some ghost move on. Jaster would have, though.
Jango blocked out the thought.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I don’t think so. I think I’m here for a reason.”
Great. A reason. That explained so much. “What’s your name?”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know.” The boy sounded alarmed, as though he’d just realized he didn’t have a name.
Well, there went trying to track down where the boy had come from. All Jango had to go on was the rough mining clothes the boy was wearing, several sizes too large for him, and the collar around his neck.
Mining colonies weren’t exactly sparse in this galaxy. Even narrowing it down to mining colonies that used slavery didn’t help.
The Republic might claim that slavery was outlawed, but that didn’t mean much, Jango had discovered.
“Do you have a name you want me to call you?” Jango asked, because while Jango could keep calling him ‘the boy’ it seemed…
Wrong.
If Myles were here, Myles would have already named the kid. It’d probably have been something meaningful and well thought out.
If Silas were here, he’d have helped the kid come up with a name on his own. He’d have turned it into a game, until the kid didn’t even remember he was upset.
If Jaster were here…
Jango tried not to think about what Jaster would have done.
The boy frowned and Jango could tell he was thinking. “Obi,” the boy said finally. “I think… I think I like Obi.” 
“Obi,” Jango agreed. He wondered if it was the kid’s actual name, hidden in the depths of his mind. “You going to keep following me around?”
Obi tilted his head. “I think so. I don’t want you to be alone.” Obi’s gaze was piercing. “Are you going to go home?” he asked. “Now that you’re free?”
Jango swallowed. “I don’t have a home to go to.”
Obi’s eyes echoed with a terrible sadness. “You’re afraid.”
Jango closed his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, words coming out short. 
“Sometimes I dream I can’t go home either,” Obi whispered. “In the dream, I want the desert sands to strip me to my bones.”
Jango flinched, but added the piece of information to the possibility of where Obi had come from. Though, there were a spare few mining colonies on desert planets. The combination was rarely conducive to the most valuable of mining operations.
“It’s not the same kid.”
Obi stared at him. “I think they’d want you to come back.” His hand rubbed at the metal collar around his neck again. “Wherever home is. They… they probably miss you.”
Jango scoffed. He’d gotten so many of their people killed, the ones that remained could hardly want him back. “Not likely, kid.”
“In my dreams, they died because of me,” Obi whispered.
Apparently being a ghost made the kid telepathic. Jango was not a fan. But it was… it was a kid, a dead kid. Jango didn’t have the heart to try to get rid of him, unless it was to bring him home.
“Just a dream, kid.”
Obi looked away. “What if it’s not? Do… do we never get to go home?”
Jango sighed. “Come on, let me teach you how to navigate in and out of hyperspace.” He’d noticed that the kid looked like he enjoyed watching Jango in the cockpit. Sure, the kid would never need the skills himself, being dead and all, but Jango didn’t know what else to do with the dead kid that was stuck with Jango.
Obi nodded, following Jango back to the cockpit. It was the end of the conversation.
Or it should have been. 
The question haunted Jango as the months passed. Would he ever get to go home? With the sins that weighed so heavy on his shoulders? It’d been years. Years as a slave and now nearly a year free.
He looked at Obi, who hadn’t aged since the day he’d found Jango in the hull of the slave ship. Just a kid. Always a kid. A dead kid that couldn’t go home. Whose closest thing to home was Jango and Jango’s ship.
Jango had been determined not to think of it, of what he’d lost, of what was gone, of what he could never allow himself to have again.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid was stuck as a ghost? Had he told himself he was never allowed to go home? Had he trapped himself in some sort of eternal punishment.
Jango had never heard of it happening before, but he wasn’t a scholar, and this universe was full of things stranger than Jango could believe.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid had found him? Because he saw Jango’s punishment as his own?
Because this life Jango lived now, constantly chasing the next bounty, with nothing but a ghost at his side… was it a life? Was Jango just as much a ghost as the dead kid that haunted him.
“Where are we going next?” Obi asked when the next hunt finished.
Jango stared at the controls on the cockpit’s dashboard.
Do we never get to go home?
Did he? 
The kid needed a home. Jango… Jango couldn’t give him the one he’d been taken from. But…
“Concord Dawn,” he said.
“Where’s that?” Obi asked. “Is there a hunt there?”
Jango shook his head. “No, kid. We’re going home.”
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tw1l1te · 2 days
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Stay with me
Sal Fisher x Reader
This is the long awaited sequel to blueberry! I'm finally getting back into my Sally Face phase for a bit, so I hope y'all enjoy this one! <3
Tagging: @atashi-najimi, @kofiwuzhere , @kaldwiner, @zc000ter , @night-shadowblood-writes2
🪐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
You never thought you'd come back.
You'd accepted it years ago, on that fateful night on the roof of Addison Apartments.
And yet... you found yourself driving back the familiar road, passing by a sign that read "Welcome to Nockfell!"
Finally seeing the decaying beuilding ahead of you, you ease off the gas pedal, parking on the side of the road closest to the complex. You were only here to pick up some of your father's old things, as he passed about a year ago, you not getting the chance to get his things until now.
Shutting the door, you reluctantly made your way down the main path, hands nervously twitching against your legs. Even after all this time, the eerieness never left. You open the main door, the hinges creaking at the movement. They clearly haven't been greased in a while.
You look to your right to see the mailboxes, room 403 having letters and notices practically bursting out the tiny metal box. Using your key, you unlock the tiny door, letters and papers spilling out onto the floor. With a sigh, you lean down and start picking up papers, halting when you see a letter from a very familiar person.
Sal Fisher.
You shove the letter into your jacket pocket, opting to read it after you make it into your own father's apartment. Hopefully the elevator still worked.
Taking out your keycard, you slide it against the card reader and press the button, not having to wait long for the elevator doors to open. You hum softly as the elevator shakes a bit, the old creak making the place feel ancient. If you weren't used to the apartment's "charm", you probably would've had a heart attack in here.
Once you reached the fourth floor with a soft ring, the doors creaked open, allowing you to step out and quietly walk over to 403. A gnawing thought comes up in your head, the question of whther or not Sal still lived here, much less in Nockfell. Perhaps his dad was still around?
No matter, you had things you needed to do. Being back here was already doing a number on you, the impending gloom and decay clouding your emotions.
Unlocking the door with a click, you walk into your old home.
So many memories come flooding back, the scent of old smoke and lumber making your eyes tear up slightly. It's been a while.
Sighing heavily for the millionth time that day, you walk in and try to flip the lightswitch, the dull yellowed light flickering to life. You walk into your dad's old room, the room being slightly cluttered, though you knew he was never the type to keep it perfectly pristine.
You took about two hours to organize and pack up your dad's belongings, finding some old photos of him and you when you were in your highschool years. There were some photos with the gang, a particular birthday photo making you smile.
It was your 17th birthday party, taking place in this very apartment. You had invited all of your friends from your small friend group, all of them smiling and laughing in the photo. All of you were at your tiny kitchen table, a circular cake with candles right in the middle. You were in the middle of blowing out your candles, the photo capturing all of your happiness and surrounded by the people you love.
You look at Sal in the photo, smiling at how he was looking at you. His eyes were glued to you. You remember clasping his hand under the table in this photo, as it was taken a few weeks after you'd confessed to each other.
Now that you think about it.... you both never officially broke it off. Obviously your relationship was over, but part of you always wondered if he still waited for you. If he was still here.
"Oh shit- sorry, didn't think anyone was here. I just saw the door open and-"
You turn around at the voice, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.
Sal.
"Y/n?" he asks, voice wavering.
He looks... older. Taller, hair still bright blue. Not the boy you'd left behind.
"Sal." you breathlessly whispered. You didn't ever think you'd see him again.
"I-I thought- I thought you didn't live here anymore?" you ask, voice starting to waver. You could feel your vocal chords giving away.
Sal stood there, still as could be. He was in shock. Fully convinced you were a figment of his imagination. A dream.
"I-I don't, I mean, I'm still in Nockfell. My parents still live here."
"Right."
You take a moment to breathe, your heartbeat hammering within your chest. You want to embrace him, kiss him, but your feet don't move.
That's over. You ended it by your shitty departure.
You could feel your tears streaming down your face, not noticing them until now. This was all too much. The memories, the feelings-
"Hey, hey. Shhh..." Sal whispers, swiping your tears away with his thumbs. You shiver at the contact, not having felt it in almost half a decade.
"I-I'm so fucking sorry, Sally. I'm so sorry-" you hiccup, your vision blurry from all the tears. Sal embraces you placing his head on your shoulder, rubbing your back slowly. He was there.
"I know, Y/n. I know. I'm sorry too."
You both stay like that for what feels like an eternity, you staining his sweatshirt with your salty tears.
After calming down a bit, you reluctantly pull away, your face close to Sal's. You wanted to stay like this forever.
"You've grown." you chuckled, a stray tear falling from your waterline.
"So have you," he muttered, his gaze focused on you. You'd cut your hair shorter and dyed it a darker color, the color making your eyes all the more enticing and brighter. You'd changed so much, and yet, he felt like he was looking at the same Y/n from highschool who hung out on the playground during lunch.
He wanted to kiss you, even if you left right after it, he needed that goodbye. He needed the seal to confirm that everything that had happened was in the past and that you both could go your separate ways.
You were about to say something, but he took it as a chance to do the one thing he'd been dreaming about for years. Unclasping his prosthetic and dropping it on the carpet, he holds both of your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into him. You don't protest, craving his touch for years.
Your plush lips meld with his scarred ones, the kiss feeling so natural. So right. Like puzzle pieces finally being slotted with each other, completeing the final image.
You bring your hands into his hair, lightly gripping onto his blue locks. A small groan reverbrates through his throat, making its way into your mouth. His tongue licks against your lower lip. More, it means.
You were running out of oxygen, so you pull away reluctantly, placing your forehead against his, panting for air.
"S-Sal, fuck, I-"
"I love you."
You look into his eyes, his good eye's pupil being blown wide from your actions. His half-lidded gaze flickering between your parted lips and your teary eyes. You were so fucking perfect. He should've never let you go.
"I should've never let you go, baby. Do you know how often I stayed up, wondering where you went? How often I stayed up, wishing I could go back, make you stay. Stay with me, Y/n."
You were going to start crying again. His words were so heartfelt, every ounce of love and repressed feelings pouring out for you.
"Stay. Stay with me."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing softly at you. You could see his younger self in those eyes. His younger, yearning, boyish self that you loved oh so deeply.
"I'll stay this time, I promise."
🪐‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
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raelyn-dreams · 3 days
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Where did you find the full tl for Ibuki? Not doubting you (HappyEle is notorious for mishandling minorities), but I've only been able to find bits and pieces for the new characters
The tl I read for Ibuki wasn't his idol story (I don't think that's been fully tled yet), it was his profile, sorry for the confusion! I should have worded that better 🙏
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MireiArchive had this rough tl for his profile, which matches up with the machine tl of "Born in Okinawa, and raised in America" (though you should always take machine tls with several handfuls of salt, I believe this one is accurate, as it matches up with the info provided by other translators).
They also provided a rough overview of his idol story, during which the incidents that are being talked about take place.
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We know this part of the rough overview of the story is accurate due to being confirmed by several sources (the jp and eng fandoms are talking about it quite a bit).
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These parts specifically are the ones where he claims to experience discrimination due to being Okinawan or American (any foreigners face potential discrimination due to a homogeneous society), though his current nationality is Japanese. The first two kanji after the question mark in the first screenshot is the word for "Okinawa" (I'd screen record this part, but unfortunately my phone's audio quality is abysmal 🙃).
Getting a bit into Okinawa's history, the Ryukyuan people are native to the Ryukyu Islands (part of which make up modern-day Okinawa), and they were annexed by the Empire of Japan during the Meiji Era. As Japan did with other ethnic groups, such as the Ainu, the vast majority of the Ryukyuan people were stripped of their culture and forced to assimilate. During WWII, after America invaded Okinawa, the US occupied them for several decades, and there are still US military bases there that are a topic of strong debate, due to their environmental, cultural, and political impacts. Ibuki's family likely has ties to America due to these past events (many Ryukyuans have immigrated to Hawaii in particular, due to it being a straight shot across the Pacific, something which started in the early 1900s).
After WWII, Ryukyuans supported Japan more strongly due to increased resentment towards Americans, causing a further decline of people who spoke Ryukyuan languages (the vast majority speak standard Japanese, like Ibuki) and other aspects of their culture. Ryukyuans are now mostly split between the Okinawa and Kagoshima prefectures. "Okinawan" as a term has become one meant specifically to refer to the Ryukyuans (Wikipedia and other places have great sources for further info on these topics), which Ibuki is.
Therefore, we come to the current discussion around Ibuki's identity and what that means for his writing going forward.
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(Tweet from mika_enstars discussing it, a well-known livetweeter and translator)
Overall, I'm hoping Akira has learned his lesson from the Amagis (and Adonis, while we're at it) and that the poor writing choices will be few and far between this time around, discounting this story, though of course I won't exactly be holding my breath. We'll have to wait and see until more stories drop, but yeah, that's the gist of the situation!
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Can I ask if you have any Boone headcanons? I’m a little bit obsessed with the strong, silent, devoted-to-my-love sniper and there will never be enough content about him for me haha
This ask is wonderful and I thank you for it by smooching you on your forehead 😻
Also, I am so sorry for my ramblings about him, I've loved him since the game released + love all interpretations of him, so I smushed all my favourites I've seen/developed over the years into one (sfw) post.
(I also might've been a little high as I wrote these out, so sorry if I repeat anything or it's misspelled.)
Anyways, enjoy below the cut!
Boone HCs:
-around 6'-6'5" (shorter than Arcade, who I hc as 6'9"); frankly think he's 6'0" solid but built like a brick house
-Bulky, built with wide hips and wider shoulders
-he has ass. I don't make the rules, you can SEE that ass in-game just like you can his meaty tits. I speak more on tits later.
-Soft stomach (the type that you can lay on and spills over his pants some when he bends over or sits down)
-brunette with thick hair, but just shaves it all down.
-INTENSELY bisexual (preference for men, likely just because he was around more men than women in the NCR. But if he likes you in any capacity, you're fair game to him regardless of what you've got)
-very, very tanned. He's not a very pale man and wasn't ever really pale
-GREEN EYES BAYBEE!! Vibrant green, actually has central heterochromia. Green with brown around his pupils ✨
-dimples. He has dimples. Fight me.
-i have this HC that all wasteland-born folks have sharper teeth- he absolutely does. He opens his mouth and he's got four sharp canines and six additional incisors that are shorter but equally able to tear through gecko and brahmin meat
-can and will use that 7 strength stat, and also that matching 7 agility
-this mf is FAST and can sprint like hell
-big hands and arms and thighs- this man doesn't have visible abs, but he's got SO much strength under his softness
-his pecs are soft and heavy. Give that dilf the tits he deserves.
-ABSOLUTELY the strong, devoted silent type
-however, that doesn't mean he isn't playful. He can totally be a snipe, sassy, snarky man, as well as a tease.
-he'll side eye someone he cares about after he's opened up and teased just to see their expressions when he quips when they aren't expecting it.
-him and Arcade get along well, and Arcade talks with him about the world enough to convince Boone that the NCR is better as a military which serves the people, rather than a major power to run the Mojave.
-boone comes to agree easily, but only once they've known each other for a few years
-thinks Arcade is beyond genius, and the two sassy men mutually snark at others when well-deserved
-is more inclined to take off his beret in the Lucky 38 around the other companions, but still is particular about when and where. He likes it and will always stay on him when out and about
-but if the Courier takes it off of him, once they've been through a lot together in the first year or so, he'll let them do it. he knows and trusts that they'll take care of it
-considers it an extension of himself, much the way he considers his rifle and extension of himself, so it's very intimate in its own way
-achingly fond of sweet cakes
-wears sunglasses because his green eyes used to freak people out. They are incredibly sharp- and quick- and can catch movement across miles of desert sand.
-couple that with his agility and happy trigger finger, he makes one of the finest snipers in the wastes
-doesn't sleep well for the first little while after meeting the courier and their companions- keeps thinking he'll wake up to something happening
-does finally manage to relax though, and starts sleeping better than he has in years most nights
-his dog tags ever come off. Can and will stab a bitch for trying to touch them
-very good with combat knives and straight-up punching someone, but forever prefers using his rifle and being a ranged shooter.
-talked more at one time to the courier after defeating Caesar and taking down the camp than he ever had before
-actually fond of having Ed-E around during their missions
-lots of body hair, the shorter hair this mf has is on his head. Prefers his hair short mostly because of being NCR; it just gets in the way of his beret
-polishes and cleans his gun NIGHTLY. If he doesn't have the right wax for the barrel, he will go out and either trade for some or will slaughter for some. He doesn't care which he has to do, so keep it around. A small tin goes a long while, but make sure to keep it closed ✨
-wears a .50 caliber shell around his neck with his tags on the same chain- it's an old soldier's way of remembering their mortality as well as those lost, and he can move entirely silently so the metal doesn't click together as he walks or runs
-comes to find that he loves heavy military rifles
-give him a power fist or brass knuckles. I beg you. This man will fuck someone up at long and close range.
-could kill you with his arms AND thighs.
-sits with his thighs spread apart because he hates when they touch- texture nightmare for him
-can straight up rotate his irises around his pupils. Can ALSO retract and swell his pupils to make them larger and smaller at will- helps in the desert sun to keep his eyes from taking in too much light, but it also makes his eyes focus different, which can be useful
-hates alcohol, but will drink to forget
-started smoking cigarettes because the smell made him physically ill as a child- it was the only way for him to stop being sick. Now it's a bad habit he can't kick
-mostly it's because it's such a long-standing habit, but also he's got the 'tism and an oral fixation which requires him to have smthn in his mouth at all times. Will hold anything between his lips- an unlit cigarette, a toothpick, a bullet shell, the rare wasteland lollipop lmao
-this guy is big enough he can palm a milk jug like it's a can.
-prefere combat boots to anything else, especially steel toe combat boots.
-hates round laces, they've gotta be flat or he loses his shit and seethes internally.
-has tattoos. I don't make the gd rules, he's a military boy- he has ink. You just can't SEE any of it because it's under his shirt/pants.
-would actually have wanted an eyebrow piercing or the like pre-war and I will die and kill on this hill. He wouldn't have many piercings, but he would have a few, I feel. I think he'd get both eyebrows so it'd be even, maybe his nipples, and another secret one 👀
-doesnt like people much, very much a silent, brooding type. Doesn't open up for a LONG time, but when he does, he's warm
-affectionate as hell, but only once he's gotten to the warming-up point
-he more he opens up, the more snark he sends outward toward those he doesn't give a damn about. Will open his fat mouth and those brooding inside thoughts quickly become outside thoughts. Knows when to stay quiet as always, though.
-big spoon or little spoon, he doesn't care. Careful though, he runs VERY hot and will tuck a hand against your stomach to KEEP you against him, even in sleep
-likes tucking his face into someone's throat and WILL wake a lover to kisses on the shoulder and neck
-likes kisses and likes holding hands whenever able.
-hand will always be on lower back. If you're standing on something, he'll have his hand there in case. If you're sleepy and stumbling into the Lucky 38's kitchen, his hand is there to make sure you stay upright as he guides you along. If you're dealing with folks who are shady or make you uncomfortable or make Boone uneasy, his hand is right there to soothe you both.
-only puts his hand on the lower back of two people- the courier and Arcade. I take no criticisms.
-can kill for those he loves. WILL kill for those he loves.
-when cuddling with him, tuck your hand over his heart or around his dog tags and he'll melt in your hands. It's very important to him to silently be with someone, and he's hopelessly devoted to the few people he cares about.
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lesbianpegbar · 1 year
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i wanna start get started on learning another language but idk which one hrmmmmm
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lady-harrowhark · 1 year
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What do you imagine weddings in the nine houses are like? Do you think they still wear white or abide by any more traditional pre-resurrection customs? Since Jod drew so much inspiration from both Rome and Catholicism (Catholic wedding doctrine is based on the ideas of free will marriage that were tradition in ancient Rome) I think it's likely but there has to be some insane necromancy element too. Maybe a riff on the eucharist from wedding masses? Also, how do you think it varies from house to house? You always have really fun and creative ideas about the world, so I thought I'd ask your opinion about one of my favorite random headcanons to think about. (P.S. I hope the eras concert was fun!!)
Oh gosh, first of all, that is incredibly flattering lol. Second... I actually hadn't given this just a ton of thought before getting this, so it's been fun to thing about!
I think they probably resemble Christian/Catholic wedding ceremonies enough to be recognizable as such, but I would love it if they were like, the funhouse mirror version of that. I LOVE the idea of the Eucharist being involved prominently, but maybe even at a more symbolic level? Like we could obviously tie that to the whole "consume the flesh" thing, but I just feel like Tamsyn could come up with a really cool play on that concept that would never even occur to me lol.
I kind of doubt they wear white; I don't really have a good rationale for this other than vibes. Just thinking about how we see a decent range of aesthetics across the clothing of the Houses, especially in color, it would track that they have differing customs for wedding/ceremonial attire as well. Like, I can't really imagine that the Sixth whole gray librarian thing translates into formalwear the same way that say, the Third does (although using the Third as an example feels like cheating, because I suspect they go over the top for EVERYTHING so no one was gonna be doing it like them anyway lmao).
As an aside, I'm pausing for a moment to push one of my most indulgent AtN bingo card items, which is Harrow wearing white. I know the Lyctor robes are like, iridescent white, but I mean purely white. With Alecto getting so much imagery around light, and how Harrow describes her in the Tomb as wearing wearing "a white shift", it could be a cool parallel. Oh also, now that I think about it, the whole thing about Harrow being a nun, i.e., "betrothed to the Locked Tomb". Plus like, there's something there about the way it would be close to but not exactly like the iridescent white of the Lyctor robes, like, John was trying to emulate that and could only achieve a flashy approximation. And something something Harrow setting aside the black of the Ninth something mumble. But mostly, I'm heart eyes over more wedding/marriage imagery for her and Gideon 🥰 (Idk what to make of that in contrast to the white that the Tower Princes wear, but it's entirely hypothetical at this point, which means that I can ignore anything that doesn't fit my agenda.)
On my last reread, one of the little details that I was actually really taken by was that Magnus is noted to be wearing a wedding ring. So that tradition still stands, at least for the Fifth, and I absolutely melted over it.
I would kind of assume the vibe of a wedding ceremony varies from House to House, maybe along the lines of what we know about the cultures of each and what they tend to emphasize. If that's the case, I would LOVE to see a Seventh wedding; I bet it's gorgeous and deliciously fucked up. I'm really really curious about the wedding that Tamsyn has mentioned being in AtN, especially because she mentioned party dresses, and you know how I love putting blorbos in outfits. I suspect that her saying that is a bit of a red herring... Like if I'm giving my best guess, there WILL be a wedding (an actual one, not just a symbolic Lyctorhood whatever wedding) BUT I don't it will be the focus. I could see it being used really neatly as backdrop for some heisty business, more of a plot device to get people all in one place or as a distraction. I'm not getting my hopes up to see the actual ceremony, I guess is what I'm saying. The real action might be happening in the next room over.
(and P.S. THANK YOU! It was AMAZING and honestly, probably the best night of my life and also I cried for basically the entire thing, I still cannot believe I was lucky enough to be there. I got to go with my best friends, who live quite far away from me and I hadn't seen since January, which made it that much more fun. We went to the second night, and we mostly stayed off our phones/away from any social media so that we could go in and be completely surprised without having seen anything about it, and I'm so glad we did! I wouldn't have held out if we were going to a different date lol.)
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stardestroyer81 · 1 year
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Mega Man 10 features a triad of playable characters— Mega Man, Proto Man, and Bass. Unlike the former two, Mega Man 10 was Bass's first 8-Bit outing (Not counting his very minor cameo in Mega Man 9), and his faux NES sprite is... off. It's not a bad sprite by any means, but his color palette and posture being much too close to Rock's never quite sat right with me.
But what would Bass look like in my spriting style? Well... here's your answer! ✨
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throttlegainwell · 5 months
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It's like I blink and another WIP manifests...
#writing tag#i'm not actually sure whether i'll write this one because it's *very* outside my typical range#i don't usually write substance abuse stories#but it just feels very plausible to me in a very sad way#but i'd like to approach it from a non-sensationalizing and non-angsty direction where the whole thing kind of sneaks up on him#and it's not super dark in tone just mature#i dunno i've gotta work out logistics but it's not a priority WIP just an idea#i think it goes without saying that this is yet more sad shit i'm planning to put one jonathan byers through#he's just the one character i've gotten really into where i'm interested in exploring this and see it very clearly#and he could slide into a real problem without anyone noticing#(totally outside the pot i'm thinking more a scrip for the back injury that turns into a problem from not addressing it)#(so a few years down the line the UD shit is over but he finally gets an MRI and yikes)#it'd be really a lot to write emotionally though and i'd want to get the balance right & not be gross and exploitative#because holy shit are there a lot of really horrific & cruel opinions on substance use and with opioids in particular#anyway i dunno i've just sort of been thinking about it all year#and like i know i keep sending him to therapy in my future fics#but what if he doesn't work on his shit y'know? what if he just keeps on keeping on like he knows#and through a combination of unresolved emotional wounds and very real chronic pain... well you know
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potpiehead · 6 months
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ive been more depressed lately
#if you cant tell#during the summer i had some zest for life and felt actually happy lol but with the turn of the season it just disappeared.. so annoying lo#i keep having thoughts that boil down to "id be happier if i were happier' like lol#i know that spending time with my friends and family; always having something going on; engagine with my interests and keeping myself busy#all make me feel good and i think those things came easier over the summer#when im doing something of interest i just feel this whole world open up and everything feels lighthearted and easy and then when i fall ou#of those habits and start doing less everythig just feels dark#the depression i have now is 100x better than the depression i had as a teenager though. i didnt have the life experience to know that#things could be better#it does make me feel good to know that there are things that help#i just feel so mentally weak like there are times when i think of the thing i want to do but the effort it would take is monumental#and it stresses me the fuck out#i applied to a couple of jobs today because i just need a change of fucking scenery and i feel stagnant.#evereythig feels bleak and meaningless but i have moments where i feel everything open up. idk#i have hope for myself lol just that today in particular has been shitty like a concentrated version of the past few months#but i did apply to jobs which is something i was stressing about! and i bought some shit i needed to buy that i kept putting off#i often have so much on my mind and am so overwhlemed i cant even think of getting shit done. this shit is ruining everything#catastrophizing was my specialty in early high school ive been here before its just that being a young adult is a new frontier.#and i feel like ive been sitting in one place not moving even though i have been doing things i need to CHANGE things#i have moments of strength but i know that overall im struggling.#anyway thanks for reading. i have work tomorrow gn!
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risingsunresistance · 2 years
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my aunt's sunflowers finally bloomed but. well im no expert but they look like they could use some work kdhfjhd. it's been raining way too much and the heat has been insane so maybe that has something to do with their skinny petals. it's her first time trying to grow flowers on her own tho, she's so happy they bloomed :]
here's some more flowers from her house, just bc they're pretty and i wanna share
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this one was just wild up in the hills :0
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elceeu2morrow · 2 years
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just my silly thoughts on why i love the latest igtv.
#i wasn't sure what i thought of the latest igtv but after after watching it again i really enjoy it#it's like a love letter to latam fans but also his fans in general#even though we didn't get much stage footage until the last few seconds it was filled with content that joshua films of fans before the sho#this is what louis sees through josh's lens and as josh said this tour has been unreal never documented anything like it#and while josh puts the videos together we know that louis is involved and gives final approval so this is what LOUIS WANTS TO SHARE WITH U#i love getting to listen to him speak about how he feels : how he felt prior to going on tour not knowing if it would even happen#then to the reception he has had all over the world and in particular latam#this igtv was his moment of reflection his moment to take it all in as he has done during this leg of the tour when he watches the crowd#at the end of beautiful war and shakes his head in amazement#so yes it was only a 3 minute igtv that didn't share as much bts or stage footage but to me it showed so much more#again he's telling us the insecurities and uncertainties that he had at the start of his solo career (like he did in the afhf2021 doc)#he's telling us how he thinks about the tour and how they continue to work on the show the staging and how he feels that he himself#as an singer and performer has evolved over the last four month#and most of all he tells us how he feels about stepping into a each city and the reception he gets not just on stage but off stage#he feels the love and support we give to him as a SOLO artist#so yeah i wish we got yacht footage but i am grateful that louis took the time to do a reflective video and ultimately#it was the perfect leg of the tour to do it#so thank you louis for sharing a piece of you with us#if you made it to the end thank you for reading my ramblings#lt igtv#6.10.22#mine#ltwt2022 latam
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icykalisartblog · 10 months
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DDoS Attack Against AO3: Correcting Misinformation
Normally I don't make any posts like this, but I have an interest in cybersecurity and sadly I've seen people are being really ignorant about this recent DDoS attack against the site AO3 (Archive of Our Own), so I thought I'd remind people of a few things:
Anonymous Sudan appears to have no actual link to Sudan at all, or to any previous hacktivist groups that once operated there. This masquerade is probably based in anti-immigration and other racist sentiments, and utilizing those sentiments in other people to scare people and set up Muslims and Sudanese people as a target. This should be obvious from the language used in their note, but this was already known prior to this particular attack.
This so-called Anonymous Sudan has actually been very active recently—remember that they claimed to attack Reddit, Flickr, Riot Games, a huge number of Microsoft web portals like OneDrive and Outlook, etc. before AO3, so AO3 was totally a logical target for them since they've gone after smaller entities before. DDoS attacks like this are easy for any script kiddie to set up, so it's not weird that they'd go for a smaller target like this.
Honestly this group of posers probably just wants money, everybody. They sent AO3 a ransom note asking for Bitcoin (and just in case people don't know, do not pay a ransom if at all possible if this ever happens to you).
My advice to people who've noticed this attack is two-fold: calm down since this is part of a larger pattern that has literally resulted in basically no loss for the end-user of any of the sites, and... I don't really know a better way to put this, but don't believe everything you read. A religiously-motivated hate group wouldn't use terms like "LGBTQ+" and "smuts," and it's so blatantly obvious that the timing of every single one of these attacks is being used to smear Muslims and Sudanese people if you think about current events for like. One second. And if you look up Anonymous Sudan, you'll see their string of attacks and how all experts know that they have nothing to do with Sudan at all. Even AO3 itself told everybody that the group is lying about their motivations... though I think I'd go further than that personally because even their name itself is almost certainly a total sham.
To be clear: this post isn't targeted at anyone in particular. I've just seen a lot of people falling for this overall or not realizing this is part of a pattern, and I also wanted to remind everyone that this isn't anything to be concerned about. What is something to be concerned about is not doing research or thinking critically and then unwittingly spreading racist ideas.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months
Text
MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend
Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.
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Ghost
Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.
You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.
He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.
It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.
There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.
More on this later 👀.
He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.
Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.
Expect a lot of praise in bed.
Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.
Other times, he’s not so gentle.
Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.
His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.
“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”
He’s very protective of you.
He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.
Scary dog privileges.
Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.
That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.
He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.
As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.
However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.
And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.
“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”
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König
Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.
But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.
He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.
When he feels like it.
He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.
You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.
Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.
Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.
He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.
Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.
A little bit silly.
And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.
Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.
One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.
He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.
Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.
Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.
It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.
Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.
“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.
“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”
His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.
“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.
“Inch by bloody inch.”
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Valeria
You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.
That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.
Sexual or otherwise.
She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.
Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.
In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.
“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.
“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”
She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.
She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.
Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.
Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.
Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.
Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.
You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”
You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.
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Price
He’s so father-coded fr.
He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.
Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.
John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.
Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.
The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.
When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.
A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.
On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.
E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.
He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”
“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.
“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.
“And all mine.”
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Horangi
You’re the only thing that matters to him.
At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.
Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).
His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.
In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.
You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.
You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.
Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.
Unless you push him too far.
At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.
He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.
“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”
He never fails in the aftercare department, though.
Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.
Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.
A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.
Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.
Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.
Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.
“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”
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Alejandro
Pre-established passionate lover.
One who is fiercely protective over you.
If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.
He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.
You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.
He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.
A thorough lover is how you might describe him.
Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.
You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.
Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.
Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.
He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.
“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.
Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”
Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.
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Rodolfo
His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.
As he should.
You want it ? You got it. 
In abundance.
You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.
That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.
He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.
Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.
Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”
Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.
It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.
“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.
“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.
“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”
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Graves
This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.
Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.
He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.
E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.
“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”
He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.
He never expects anything from you in return.
He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.
Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.
Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.
On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.
He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.
“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”
On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.
#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.
He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.
“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.
Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.
“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”
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