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#or to keep it from making a sound when it hit the ground
saiidahyunie · 11 hours
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fight night
hirai momo x f!reader
synopsis: momo makes sure you hit the canvas, and the bed. 
warnings: strap-ons ; breeding kink mentioned ; just dirty, filthy, disgusting smut >:)
a/n: started writing this at around 10 am btw
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“i want another round! let’s go for another round!” 
despite how enthusiastic it sounded, it certainly won’t be the last time you hear that sentence tonight. 
“momo,” you call out to her from the opposite corner of the ring, raking your hand through your slicked hair, muddled with all of the sweat procured from the intense sparring session you just went with her just now, “i thought i told you that i was only gonna do four rounds with you tonight.” 
she tosses her headgear into the middle of the ring, a glove at her side with the wrist-wrapped hand sliding across the divot in her abs. “just one more bout, we’ll do a minute this time since it’s already late.” 
watching your girlfriend move up the ranks in her weight class for the boxing division that she was competing for, in the slightest, was probably one of the most frightening experiences momo has put you through since the start of the relationship with her.
that being said, momo is, and always will be, a fighter - there’s even times where nothing else matters if she gets beat down to the ground by someone else because fighting is the only thing she knows how to do. she’ll get up, and keep going - to no end, even if her body is screaming against it at will, it’ll be until the very last bell when she gets her final say. 
“fine, just this once only because ryujin isn’t here with you today.” 
momo squeaked over before running across the opposite end to trap you in a hug, sweaty lips against yours while your free hand sweeps her lower back. she deepens the kiss but forces her weight on you, just enough for your back to meet the ropes, letting a small groan escape into her mouth. 
you’re not the one at fault to get momo riled up with moments like these, but for the sake of your girlfriend’s sanity, you made sure to not be in the gym with her that much - especially with the goddamn sparring sessions because she’s always looking to see if you’re watching her beat or get beat. 
a simple two tap out signals momo to stop for a second, landing another few kisses swiping your bottom lip, “fuck–momo, it’s not that big of a deal.” you say, calloused ridges of your palm feeling the subtle warm heat on her cheeks to the touch. “let’s get this last round in baby, then we can have our fun.”
“oh yeah?” momo challenges, her free hand beneath shorts kneading your ass, a light gasp of the chipped armor she finally manages to break, “and what do i get for knocking you out in sixty seconds?” 
“well…” it’s a tempting proposition, she knows your body equally as hers. the subtle touches in areas that lifts that sly smile of yours, the moans that shake loose off her lips when you’re all over her aching, needy–
“if you can knock me out by then, i’ll be free of use for you when we get home.” 
momo coos, finger and thumb at the peak of your chin when the soft chuckle leaves your lips. “i do like the sound of that.” 
“if you don’t, then nothing will happen.” you add, pressing a finger to her chest, pushing her away to the other corner. “i’m not like your sparring partner ryujin, so i don’t plan to go easy.” 
“you were never an easy girl to appeal to.” 
“tell that to richard’s fighter that put a number on you three weeks ago.” 
“oh, fuck you.” 
“you probably will.” quipping, “headgear on, we don’t have all night.” 
momo is structured, but always forgets. 
and she definitely forgot about the right hander you had when she’s on the ropes. 
stumbling out, and you’re laughing, mocking her. you’re all for the taunting and trash-talking. it’s something you picked up from momo’s trainer, jihyo, constantly berating her all of the different kinds of things that even whittled down to ‘you’re shitty because you’re fucking breathing!’ there’s so many stories you’ve herald from the other fighters in the gym, so you’re working your magic to get momo to let her frustrations out. 
“you call that a southpaw? c’mon, where’s the momo that i know who can land a better hit than that?! is it because i’m your girlfriend and you’re giving me slack?” 
momo wipes her chin, studying everything that you’re currently modeling right now. your left hand is up to your midsection, right hand lowered, shoulders slumped like they’re relaxed, skipping in place on the balls of your feet, staying light and quick. it’s only been ten seconds into the round and momo needs one way in. 
“you’re all talk for someone that’s not a boxer.” she says, gloves hitting against each other signifying that she’s good to go. 
“don’t go easy on me.” 
you get complacent, momo surges forward with a low blow to your stomach. luckily your right hand swings forward to parry the hit before reeling back to the flying left hand momo sends after. right hook is sent to momo’s head and she takes it, good, shuffling back against the corner where you’re in the driver's seat. she has to play defense, and you have free reign with firing the relentless jabs to any open area on momo’s body. 
momo’s hands shield her face, elbows protecting her stomach as best as she can while you’re sending a flurry of hooks left and right. she sees the window of opportunity when you’re sending another uppercut when she hits the area where your liver was at, making you slightly disoriented. that was the second she needed, and all of the sudden the momentum shifted in momo’s favor, sending a right hook, a left jab, two quick hit in the same area again before the haymaker right to the left side of your face. 
that was momo’s strength, her fast reflexes and punches gave you little to no time to adjust and before you knew it, you’re doubled back on the canvas, falling to the right before rolling over and laying upwards. 
you’re zipping up your duffel bag when momo hugs you from behind, with an ice pack in her hand. you hum at the peace offering, taking it and putting it on your forehead to soothe the pain from momo’s killer hook. 
it was so cute to see your boxer girlfriend tend to your care and yes, she felt bad. she needed the motivation after taking that loss in that fight with the up and comer making a name for themselves in the boxing scene. the loss was hard for momo at the time and she really took it to heart, but like all things in life, we move forward. 
“sorry,” momo says, palming your head while you give her a soft smirk, accepting her apology right away before she schpiels out on how -  “i didn’t mean to hit you that hard, and you were giving me a lot of crap which was annoying and—” 
“momo,” hand up to stop her from tumbling her words, “it’s fine. it’s okay, you gave me a run for my money.” and momo shuts up, defeated that she beat up her own girlfriend out of a bit of anger. “besides, you’ve been slacking since the third or fourth round, so you made it up with that.” 
“did i?” 
“you really couldn’t tell?” you ask her, tapping her cheek to cheer her up. “i could see it in your body language.” 
“i know.” 
“and i did challenge you to something, so i didn’t forget.” 
“you also said that.” 
lowering the ice pack from your forehead, you lean in for a chaste kiss. momo flings the small towel over her neck so that her hands can slide into your waist. the touch and feel of her hands all over you was comforting, eagerly like it’s the last thing she wants to lose on her mind: feeling you, tender lips, that breath caught from the bottom of your throat, hands on her neck keeping her gravity centered towards you. 
momo being cool, swings the towel from her neck around to yours when you try to pull away, trying to keep her sanity in check before the booming call of lust shelters her heart for wanting, needing, satisfying. the lip lock and swipe of her tongue only makes you take into her, the downfall of that euphoric bliss flooding over you like a fucking flood, hands roaming freely over her soaked back. 
she’s quick to attack your neck, inciting a soft moan–her favorite sound–from your lips before you tap her breast twice, pulling away with lidded eyes and the intertwining line of saliva now visible in the small space between heads. 
“remember, free use.” you whisper, permissively, and momo is reminded of the reward she earned. 
(look, it goes without saying: some things are quicker to come sooner than you actually realize. sure, the detailing of momo’s rough hand all over your thigh on the car ride back would be enough information with additional detail to suffice, but really - this is just the blip or flashforward in the event. besides, who really wants to speed things up in the rush of a fucked mind waiting to happen–
oh wait, that’s you.) 
the term gentle is completely thrown out of the equation. it’s also apparent with the fact that your back hits the door leading into the shared bed of you and momo’s. arms are discarding things everywhere, you yelp into her mouth at the fact that she’s quick to rip off that large shirt in one take, pushed onto the bed while momo slips out of her leggings and shirt - she never liked the idea of wearing bras especially when it came to going out (risky, but she could care less.) 
sprawled, you twitch at the reemergence of momo’s hands canvasing your body, exposed and open for her to drink in the sight. 
“too stunned to speak?” you finally say, hands upheld like a model in a photoshoot, catching a glimpse of momo licking her lips ready to tear anything in it’s path. and you’d let her. take you in for something that’s cast aside and make you whole, like new. you’ve broken her down to the point where she could give you everything you wanted, and she will. 
momo leans down, sinking by the feel of her lips on the little spot underneath your ear, eyes wobbling shut while you hum with a sound of satisfaction, melting into putty by the second. you know she likes this, to have control, to be in the front of this bout where she belongs because by the end of everything, you’ll be sputtering her name out like there’s no tomorrow. 
“i’m gonna use you to fuck myself in every way.” she stops to say down the canal of your ear. 
fuck. 
“how are you gonna do that?” eyes tracking her silhouette in the darkness while your hands nestle themselves over your chest, thighs pressed together to sate the ache that’s bothering between your legs. “tell me more baby, i wanna know all of the things that you’re gonna do to me.” 
“you said free use, so i’ll do anything to get myself off to you.” 
“anything?” 
“don’t make me repeat myself.” 
fuck.
you lean back as deep as you can, momo elevates herself over your body, and your hands naturally find their way clutching her ass, dropping kisses up her inner thigh. not even letting her speak, but already ahead of the curve of what she wanted. 
“you-fuck, i fucking hate-” momo snaps, trying to ignore the humming of momo’s skin laving your tongue at the moment, gripping your hair suddenly to stop you before pressing your head back into the mattress. “always having your way with things, huh?” 
“got a problem?” 
“this is your doing. now open.” 
“mo–” 
she shuts you up with the harsh grinding of her cunt at max speed, the subtle slide of her wetness soaking onto your face. she tastes good, there’s no denying that, but shit the post-workout meal and shower can wait, because this was entirely better than whatever was the initial plan before coming home. 
“yeah–yeah, yeah, yeah, hng–fuck, y/n.” momo gasps out while her hips buckle from the pressure, dropping forward while your hands hook around the midpoint of her hips and legs meeting, giving you an anchor for you to pleasure her. momo looks from under, only seeing the top of your head, moving left and right repeatedly, cupping your face while you keep your head up into her cunt. 
“christ baby, your fucking mouth–” 
“mmmmph.” you manage to say, mouth full of pussy that grips your tongue so well. you could lose and back out now, flip her over and just fuck momo, but she knows that you’ll do the honor system justice, staying true to your word. momo’s fingers are on her clit, nearing that peak she desperately deisred, shooting up right again and forcefully fucking your face with her cunt, whining and whimpering before she clenches her legs against your head, as if it was a watermelon in between, screaming. 
momo collapses behind, ass on your stomach while she tries to recover from her climax, chest heaving while lickking the slick off of your face, sucking shamelessly and the noises that momo hears coming out of your mouth are completely fucked, she’s just left staring. 
there’s a pause, an intermission that only lasts for a few seconds - that fucking pit stop that sounds stupid as it is, and momo has something in her hand that sends your cunt aching again for more. 
a vision–a vision out of your wildest dreams. there was only one instance of this occurring and count yourself fucking lucky, because it’s happening again. 
“please,” you’re asking momo, the urgency of fulfilling your fantasies coming to life again-you’re gonna do it right? right? a break in the script to rewrite it into something new. “i know you’ve been waiting for–”
“jesus fucking christ, y/n.” momo swears, sounding helpless, but the feeling of it has never felt better. “you’ve been waiting for this to happen again, haven't you? for me to use this in your poor little pussy for my own sake. always getting what you want–” 
fuck. fuck. fuck. for fuck’s sake godddamnit–shit–
“please,” you’re asking again. “free use baby, just use me. this pussy is yours to ruin.”
momo lets the urge finally take over, splitting your legs apart before diving in to get some of that craving that she’s been holding herself back for a bit, spitting on your cunt before slipping a finger in your folds. you’re squirming at your touch, mind racked with the unnecessary teasing that’s pulling on you, to get riled up before–
“you want it so bad don’t you.” the head of the silicone cock tapping along your walls, dipping an inch just for good measure, and jesus you’re already annoyed by it. “i’m gonna ram this little pussy of yours.” 
she slides - all the way in. you don’t even know if this was real life or a dream. 
the languid moan of being filled up to the brim, slick coating the plastic in you like it’s the one thing that only matters and for this time, it did. momo strokes out before letting the first rail back leaves you choking for a second. “my little slut enjoying this now?” 
“god, momo, ma-” you barely manage, shimmying down on momo’s silicone cock, fucking yourself down the length, cunt gripping with all of its strength. momo internalizes this, testing the limits of how much your pussy could handle, but why play it safe - that’s not the whole point of getting here in the first place. 
“how does my cunt feel, ma’am?” you ask, wanting everything from momo, waiting for her to give it a few blinks to settle. starting with more fewer strokes, then upping the tempo, and up, and up–
“you look amazingly pretty,” momo breathes out, coming as a growl in your ear when she lays on top of you, hips hitting that spot inside you perfectly, the sounds coming out of you for momo to hear only makes her want more. she’s going slow, deep, soft, and then–
“harder, ma’am. please. just fuck me.” 
she gets you. it doesn’t take much for momo to give in, letting the strap swallow you up in the same repeated manner. the beat of momo’s heart synchronizing with yours while the slaps of skin fill up the dim room. there’s steady pace, the back and forth banter of grunts and moans leaving yours and momo’s lips. 
your pupils are blown out, half smiling, half gasping, looking up with every bit of strength left to see momo turn you undone. “so–hn, fuck–yes, i can’t–keep dicking me like that.” you croon, the sharp inhale leaving your lungs as momo’s strap sinks into you again and again and again and again. 
“imagine how good–” momo breathes out, “if i had a real dick, instead of a strap?” and the delirium tumbles down. “stretching you out so good–so well. my perfect slut.” 
“god, momo, i–”
“you’re perfect for me. my fucking cocksleeve.” 
in the name of the lord of heaven above. 
“such a good girl, my good slut, god, i want to stay inside you forever.” 
your eyes meet hers, smiling astonishingly beautiful while being fucked. “is this what you wanted?” 
“y-y/n—”
your legs wrap around momo’s hips, keeping the pace up of her thrusting inside of you. “filling me up? the idea of cumming inside of me so badly? dumping so much to the point that you could leave a baby in me instead of this plastic strap?” 
momo nods, not letting up her strokes, fucking you fast and deep, slamming like it took everything out of her. “breeding…” momo husks out, “sounds so fucking good…”
“c-close, mo. i’m shaking.”
“cum for me darling, you’ve earned it.” momo says to you, lips on yours again while she continues to fuck her strap into your tiny cunt, slowing her pace when she feels you clenching around the plastic. she’s quick to knead your breasts while you’re sobbing, savoring the feeling while the lingering orgasm leaves your hips. 
momo lets out something breathy, unrestrained, relaxing when she hears the whinpers leave your lips, sliding her strap out of your well-fucked pussy. you have a sleepy smile in appreciation mixed with satisfaction when she hobbles over to your side, arms scooping you into an embracing hug while you’re leaving peppered kisses on one side of her chest. 
“amazing.” you barely say, and momo just chuckles. 
“we’re definitely doing this again.” 
115 notes · View notes
mikobeautifulheart · 2 days
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Hiii, can I request a fic of nanami(established relationship) if he caught to in the act of trying to kill yourself. I get it if you won't do it though..❤
There is like nothing I won't write for I'm that desperate. Plus I have so many ideas.
Tw: self harm, destructive tendencies and depression (angst to ig)
They say you can tell when someone is going to commit. Obviously it isn't true.
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You were the brightest person in the room, every morning when you were all getting assigned missions you would smile and greet everybody.
Nanami didn't know how you did it, always smiling when your job puts you to the dirtiest work of the world. Hell the day you stopped smiling was the day the world ended.
Maybe that's why he was so in love with you, you had so much affection to give him as he had for you, you could always smile brighter for him, laugh louder for him, all you ever did was make him happy.
"Y/n?" He said knocking on the bathroom door.
"Are you okay in there?" he said with little to no concern.
He had come home an hour ago and thought you must have still been on your mission because of how quiet the house was. That was until he heard noises in the bathroom.
"Mmmm" he heard muffled mumbles through the door, not even close to a proper response.
"Y/n i'm coming in okay?" He turns the handle but the door wont budge.
Another sound came from the other side of the door but it was louder like glass smashing on the tile floors.
"Stay away from the door, Do you hear me y/n? I'm going to knock it down"
He wastes no time before he takes a step back before kicking it the first time.
The door makes a splitting sound but dosen't open.
Second Kick.
Again, its more likely he's going to put a hole in the door before he breaks it down.
This time he slams his shoulder into it ripping the hinges off the wall and finally making the door weak enough to rip off the frame.
He pulls the door toward him so he dosen't hit you, and looks into the bathroom to see you on the floor, red around your torso, hair in your face.
He nearly took a step back in shock to see the horror infront of him. Still he went in and lifted your upper half off the ground to see where the blood was coming from.
As his eyes scanned you body you let out a groan.
"Sorry..." You said before quickly shutting your eyes in pain when he touched your arm.
"I didn't want you to be the one who found me..." You said before your mind gave out and your body went limp.
"Y/n? You have to keep your eyes open okay, can you hear me, Y/N" The longer he stayed the more of his composure he lost.
There it was, two long lines of red down both your arms. He rolled your sleeves up to get a better look.
"I'm going to get you to Shoko okay? Just hold out for me, please." He said scattering things all over the floor and pulling out things from the draws until he found bandages, if he didn't stop the bleeding now you would get to Shoko dead.
Carefully he starts wrapping your arms tightly, becoming worried but relived when you hissed in pain. He hated to see you in pain but at least he knew you were alive, alive enough to feel.
When the bandages were secure he carried you down to his car where he dialed Shoko right as he placed you along the passenger seats in the back. Even though it was late at night he knew Shoko would come in and save you.
He rushed you in watching to see if you were still breathing before laying you down in Shoko's clinic.
He waited out side and next to your bed all night, playing with the ring on your left hand.
As the sun came up the warm beams of light made your eyes open slowly.
''Morning" He said.
Nanami did'nt really know how to approach this, dose he ask questions now? Comfort you? Pretend it didn't even happen?
"Kento..." You said, voice groggy.
"Yes"
You reached your arm up to caress his face, a shooting pain ran down your arm and you gasped slightly before feeling tears prick the corner of your eyes.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
"You shouldn't really use your arms right now" He said holding your hand to his face.
"Ken...I'm sorry I didn't want you to find me like that, I never wanted tou to suffer because of me I-im so sorry." You said letting the tears go.
"Shhh, you don't have to think about that right now, your being put on a break. No working for 2 weeks, then we can talk okay?"
You nodded trying to hold back your tears as he pressed a kiss you your cheek.
But really he felt more insecure. Was he not enough? No. He just kept taking. Your smile, your laughter and your happiness.
From this day on he would give you everything he could, anything for your happiness.
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AUTHOURS NOTE: If you don't like he ending that's cool because I have a similar fic here with a sadder ending, it's appart of my 5 stages of greife series.
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gaycragula · 17 hours
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Hello there
Please could i request a child male reader (around 9-12, maybe younger idk you can choose) x 141. Platonic obv. Reader is being held hostage for reasons and they have to go on a rescue mission. When reader is saved he’s scared of them all except ghost who he just clings onto LMAO
cheers mate 🙏
Lost and Found
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Pairing: 141 x Child Male Reader (Platonic!!!!) Warning(s): Heavy implication of parent death, politician family, child reader, locked in a basement, he gets fed i promise, i have no idea how the military works, angst? Word Count: 2069 Masterlist
The walls were an ugly, cracks running along them, and you’re sure there was mold growing in one of the corners. The only light in the room was a small lightbulb in the center of the room that was rarely left on. The only door leading out of the room was locked from the outside. You’re not sure you exactly wanted to leave the room. Not with the heavy thumps of feet that stomped through the first floor of the home.
It was a nice summer day when it happened. You’d just finished a nice dinner with your parents when the sirens began to blare. The sound cut your ears and you covered your ears, trying to block out the noise. You were whisked out of your chair by your dad before  you could get up yourself.
Hushed words were shared between your parents as they rushed through the home to the basement. Your father’s grip was tight on you as he toted you down the stairs, your mother right on his heels. 
Dad set you down in a corner, trying to keep you out of direct sight of the stairs. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, your mother doing the same. 
“Be good and stay here,” your mom whispers, giving you a pained smile. Her lip quivered as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Mom and Dad love you. We always will.”
. Then, they left you, footsteps receding back up the stairs into the home. You heard the door shut and a silent darkness covered you. The silence only lasted for a moment. 
Something crashed upstairs and loud bangs made you cover your ears again. You curled further into the corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. More crashing and something heavy hitting the ground sounded before it fell silent again. It was over… right?
The basement door slammed open and you gave a full body flinch. A flurry of steps rocketed down the stairs. Way too many to be just your parents. 
Five or six men came into your sightline. Each of them looked like they were armed to the teeth and it sent a jolt of fear through you. These men just ran through your house. Where your parents were. Where were your parents? 
They scoured the basement, flashlights leading their guns as they searched. For what? You weren’t quite sure but you hoped they would just look over you. The fear surging through your body was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe, each breath fighting to force its way out silently. You tried to stay hidden for as long as possible but their flashlights soon exposed you.
They said something you couldn’t understand before moving on and returning upstairs when they finished. You heard the faint click of the lock to the basement and you were left in the basement by yourself again. You tried to fight the tears that began falling down your cheeks as you curled in on yourself. It wasn’t a very long fight and your face soon became wet with your tears. It hit you then that you’d probably never see your parents again.
It had been a week since it had happened. The men would leave food for you at the top of the stairs. You spent the majority of your days sitting under the light in the room, playing whatever you could find. Trying to distract your mind. You were suddenly happy your parents kept a chunk of toys down in the basement for storage.
Totes of toy cars that you pretended to race with, some toy dinosaurs you’d gotten years ago, left forgotten in the basement until now. There were planks of wood you’d dragged over that you drew on with some chalk your parents kept down there. The chalk worked well on the walls as well.
Drawings littered the small walls of the basement. Cars and dinosaurs littered the floor. Your house.. Your home, your family. Where did it all go?
You’ve tried to talk to the men on multiple occasions but they only either looked at you with disdain or spoke in a language you couldn’t understand. 
On the eighth day of the occupation, you heard those loud bangs and the shouts of men again. You started crying again, you didn’t even have a chance to try to stop it as you scrambled  back into a corner in the room again, hopefully out of sight. Out of mind.
It felt like ages before the house fell silent again. You heard the doorknob wiggle, muffled voices coming from the otherside. Light filtered into the basement as the door creaked open. “After you, Sergeant,” a gruff voice huffs, a hint of teasing to the tone.
A short laugh followed the words before steps were coming down the stairs again, flashlights dancing over the walls as they descended. “Ohhhh hell, look at this, LT,” a second voice whispers, a light lingering on the drawings on the wall. Silence fell again as the sound of more boots started down the stairs, flashlights whipping around the room before one fell on your form. 
—-----------------------
Clearing the home was easy. The bastards inside weren’t expecting an attack for a while. A home far outside any city line would surely work as a temporary base, right?
They thought so at least. So when the Scotsman barged through the door followed by six others, the occupants weren’t prepared. The firefight was short. The men inside scrambling to get to their weapons as fast as possible. 
It was Roach who’d noticed the door to the basement, calling over the rest of the team. “What d’ya thinks down there?” Soap chuckles as Ghost takes a hand at picking the lock. “More guys? Prisoners they been keepin’?”
“If I had to take a guess, probably prisoners. Family who lived here was big in the political field here. Probably kept them as hostages for ransom,” Price says, gesturing for two of the guys to stand guard at the front and back doors. 
The door clicked open and slowly swung open with a nasty creak. “After you, Sergeant,” Ghost huffs, nudging the Scotsman forward. Soap let out a short laugh before starting into the dimly lit basement. Ghost close behind him. Soap’s flashlight scanned the floors and walls. He noticed dinosaurs and cars littering the floor around the bottom of the stairs. He initially thought nothing of it. They knew a young kid lived here. 
He was almost to the bottom as his light scanned over a big drawing of a home and a family of three drawn in chalk. 
He felt his heart drop at the image. Soap was no master in chalk or anything, but the drawing looked pretty new. “Ohhh hell, look at this LT,” he says, nudging the other. Ghost went rigid for a second before gesturing back up the stairs for the other three to come down quickly. 
Flashlights scoured the basement, Soap wandering towards the darkest part of the basement. His light danced over the stone floor before the body of a little boy was illuminated.
“Over here,” Soap calls out, almost missing the way the kid jerked in response to his words. Soap handed Price his gun before crouching down next to the boy. Your eyes were locked onto him, tear stains evident on your cheeks and fear clouding your eyes. “We’re here to help ya,” Soap says, trying to offer his hand to you.
“Back off the kid, Soap,” Ghost mutters. “He’s scared shitless.”
Soap let out a quiet, barely audible sigh as he stood back up and stepped back to join the rest of his team. 
Your eyes shot from man to man. Your breath was heavy in your chest and you could hear yourself wheezing because of it. “Where are my parents?” You almost sobbed. Your voice was hoarse, throat tight as you waited for an answer.
The men felt their hearts drop at the pure pain in your voice. This kid, no older than 11 or 12 had his life turned upside down in a matter of fifteen minutes just a week ago. 
It was Ghost who made the first, well technically second, advance towards you, much to the surprise of the rest of the team. Just as surprising was the way you sat up to be face to face with him as he crouched down. 
He pulled a small picture out of pocket and handed it to you. It was a picture of your parents and yourself that you’d never seen before. “I don’t know where your parents are, but I do know that if you remain here, you’ll never find them,” Ghost spoke lowly. Just loud enough for you to hear. 
You nodded in understanding, shoving the picture in your pocket as Ghost stood up. He went to turn back to the team but paused when your hand grabbed his. You avoided his gaze when he looked back at you but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he picked you up and maneuvered you onto his back. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, laying your head down on his back.
Ghost turned towards his team who were all gawking at the scene before them. “Get goin’ and quit starin’ at me like that,” he huffs, nodding towards the stairs before turning to speak to Roach, Gaz, and Soap. “Get the kid some clothes and we’re gettin’ out of here.”
“Aye, L.T,” Soap almost stutters, pushing Roach and Gaz towards the stairs. Price chuckled to himself before heading up the stairs after the three, rounding up the other two that he’d stationed up there. 
“What’s your name?” Ghost hears you ask quietly.
“They call me Ghost,” the man answers as he heads up the stairs. He felt you nod against his back and you fell silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”
You tell him your name, which he already knew but he wasn’t going to tell you that. That started a short and quiet conversation between the two of you. You asked how long he’d been in the military, where he was from, what his family was like and Ghost answered you and asked you the same questions in return. 
It was a stark contrast to what the 141 was used to. Ghost was generally quiet on these kinds of missions. “It’s gotta be the kid,” Gaz whispers to Soap who nods in agreement. 
“Yeah but what about this kid is different from others we’ve found?” Soap whispers back, rubbing his jaw as he watched you and Ghost interact. Gaz shrugged in response before Roach chimed in.
“Maybe he reminds him of a family member? Younger brother or nephew?” Roach suggests and it was like a lightbulb went off in the other two’s heads.
“That’s gotta be it,” Soap nods. “Does anyone know anythin’ ‘bout his family?” 
Gaz and Roach shake their heads and Soap sighs. He opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when he saw Ghost shoot a look over his shoulder at him.
“Quit chattin’. Be on guard. We’re still in hostile territory,” Price mutters, ignoring the noise of complaint the three made before begrudgingly doing what they were told.
It was your first time on an aircraft. You were glued to Ghost’s side, eyes locked on the floor in front of you. Soap had tried to get your attention a couple times to no avail. If you did make eye contact with him, you were quick to look away as quick as possible. 
The others didn’t have much luck either. Roach had tried to speak to you while Ghost was carrying you and all you’d done was bury your face into the fabric of Ghost’s shirt. 
Price had been the most outward about it, asking to actually carry you so give Ghost a break. That was the only time you’d spoken to anyone besides Ghost. “No,” was all that came from your mouth as you shook your head. Ghost had chuckled and told Price he was good to carry you the whole way.
Ghost had given you his hand to basically ‘play’ with. You braided his fingers, bending them and whatever else you could do to keep your mind calm. The rest of the team couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces at the sight.
Who would’ve guessed. The big bad Ghost had actually a big softie.
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skepsiss · 2 days
Note
For Steddie prompts -- I'm always a fan of older Steve and Eddie, like them in the 90's and still pining type of nonsense
That or them as camp councilors, for Summertime for us Northern Hemispherers ♥️✨
Pining in the 90s.... hmmm, as in they're not together yet? I'm going to take this in a rather AU way, hope you like it! Ooops, it's almost 2,000 words.... but whatever. (Anyone can send me a prompt! Please do) --
Eddie hoisted his guitar up his shoulder, grunting as he picking up his duffle and staggered away from the bus. It was a mild summer day, and he was pleased he had gotten in early to camp, even if he missed getting the extra sleep.
Eddie wasn't exactly 'a morning person,' but mornings came with their perks as Eddie took in the familiar sight of Camp Callingwood. He had never frequented the camp as a kid, but he had started as a seasonal camp counsellor in the late 80s as a last-ditch effort to not be homeless for the summer. It turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life because he had met some of the best people in the world. It was 'one of those perks' and Eddie couldn't help but look around to try and catch a glimpse of the guy he was looking for.
Like a sunbeam on a cloudy day, Eddie caught sight of Steve Harrington making his way down the dirt path toward the bus drop-off. He was talking to a younger woman who was also wearing the counsellor uniform, but Eddie didn't waste time waving Steve over. It took a beat, but Steve smiled wide when he saw Eddie.
"Hey!" Steve called over before saying something quickly to the young woman and then trotting up to Eddie. "Hey, man. I wasn't sure if you'd be coming around this summer."
"Wouldn't miss it," Eddie said cheerfully, letting Steve grab his duffle bag so they could start walking toward the cabins.
"No big break yet then, huh?" Steve asked, saying a few quick hellos to the other counsellors that had just been dropped off.
"You seen my name in the tabloids?" Eddie joked, only feeling a small pinch of embarrassment over Steve's comment. He hadn't made it big despite how much he talked up his music. He knew he was good, but there wasn't always an agent who could see that in the music biz. Still, he was nearly 26 now, and without a break soon, he feared he wouldn't make it at all.
"I guess not," Steve laughed, talking easily with Eddie along the quiet forest path. "Definitely would have taken notice to seeing you. You still selling songs?"
"Yeah, doing pretty good there," Eddie admitted, shyly glancing at Steve as he tried to gauge his attitude toward all of this.
Eddie was doing well in the 'selling songs' department; he could churn out hits for anyone, but it wasn't the music he wanted to play. It sucked that metal didn't seem to be in fashion right now, but no part of him wanted to change his whole personality to fit what was 'popular.'
"Wrote one for Whitney Houston recently," Eddie proclaimed, feeling a bit proud of that sell.
"No shit?" Steve asked, sounding surprised before he bumped his shoulder into Eddie's. "Good for you, man. Cool."
Eddie smiled stupidly, liking the roughness and how boyishly charming it was. When he had first gotten to Camp Callingwood all those years ago, Steve had already been a seasoned veteran at the game. From what Eddie knew, he ran the site year-round now, and maintained the grounds during the off-season too. Eddie was only a temp, but Steve seemed so pleased to see him every year. And every year… Eddie always tentatively sussed out whether or not Steve was still single.
"Any interesting changes?" Eddie asked, glancing at Steve from under his lashes, trying to keep things casual. "No… well, I got a dog," Steve smiled, opening the door to Eddie's cabin for him. "Pepper--she's great company during the winter. It can get pretty lonely up here by yourself."
"New dog, but no lady?" Eddie joked lightly, hoping the answer was no.
"No, no lady," Steve laughed, dropping Eddie's bag on the bunk bed. "They tend not to be great company in the winter when they have to rough it--in my experience."
Eddie laughed lightly, unable to hold back the little bloom of heat in his chest. Steve really was 'one of those perks' and Eddie could hardly wait for camping season to begin so he could sign up as a counsellor again. He liked the kids, and he had fun teaching everyone how to play the guitar, or hosting the 'in-door activities' for the kids that didn't quite fit in with the others, but the real reason he kept coming back was Steve. He wished it wasn't just a temporary thing, but he chickened out asking for more every year he was here.
"Don't get too comfortable," Steve offered, swaying and leaning on the pole of the bunk bed, looking casual as could be. "We've got a lot of kids these first few weeks so I might need to move you into the big house. You don't mind dogs, right?"
The big house was Steve's permanent residence, and it was a proper home rather than the bunk rooms the counsellors and kids usually slept in.
"No--yeah, dogs are fine," Eddie said quickly, "wouldn't mind meeting Pepper though--if you're not up to anything else right now?"
"Sure, I'll see if I can find her. She's probably running around somewhere. She's a bear dog, you know? Well, not for like attacking bears or whatever, but she does a good job of keeping them away," Steve explained, motioning for Eddie to follow him.
Eddie put his guitar down on the bed and followed Steve out, not sure if he knew what Steve meant by 'bear-dog.'
Almost as soon as they got outside Steve was yelling Pepper's name and whistling as he walked toward the mess hall.
"Did you get some new tattoos?" Steve asked as they continued to walk around the camp. Other counsellors were moving about and setting things up or settling into their cabins, the site a hive of activity.
"Yeah, one on my arm and one on my thigh," Eddie said, twisting to show off his new ink. That was another thing he liked about Steve: he didn't seem bothered at all that Eddie had tattoos, even though they were still considered quite scandalous to most employers.
"One more too on my chest, but I'll save that one for later," Eddie joked lightly, pleased to be asked about his ink.
"Later for sure," Steve retorted with a smile, and Eddie blinked at him as he tried to decipher what he meant by that. Later how?
Eddie didn't get the chance to dwell on that thought though as Steve hollered Pepper's name again and Eddie watched as a large white mass bounded toward them through the trees.
"There she is," Steve said pleasantly, crouching down to greet the dog.
Pepper was a Great Pyrenees and far too big for Steve to be crouching down for.
She bounded into him and turned happily, letting Steve rough her up with pets and scratches. He was cooing and making pleasant sounds of affection at her as she wagged her tall and rubbed her head under his chin.
"She's still a puppy, only a little over one year old," Steve explained as he stood back up and Pepper turned her attention to Eddie.
"She's big," Eddie said, a little surprised by the dog's size as she bumped into his hip, looking for attention. He gave her a few good scratches, unable to stop himself from smiling.
"She's friendly--might try and sleep with you," Steve joked lightly, motioning for Pepper to sit.
She obeyed quickly and Eddie grinned as he watched her pant happily, looking for more commands.
"So this is her first summer with the kids?" Eddie asked, crouching down like Steve had before and scratching and rubbing Pepper's neck.
"Yeah, well, in this amount. We get some winter scouts and groups like that, so she has been around kids and she's great with them, but she'll probably be excited to have so many people to spoil her."
Eddie laughed, charmed by how in love Steve was with his dog. If Steve was still single, and he was pouring all of his affection in to a dog… Eddie couldn't see why shooting his shot would hurt. He had backed off every year since he met Steve, but he was feeling determined to at least confirm that Steve wasn't interested in him. They were pals, and sometimes they wrote to one another during the year, but Eddie really wasn't sure how receptive Steve was to the whole… queer thing. He did know that they'd had queer kids at camp before, and Steve had always been gentle and accepting of them, so his attitude couldn't be all negative.
"Let's go grab your keys," Steve said suddenly, and Eddie stood up to follow him. "I'll just give you a master this year, easier that way. It opens all the bunk houses and the utility rooms--and the big house. Easier than trying to sort out all the rings."
Eddie nodded, feeling a small flush creep up his cheeks. It felt rather intimate to be given a key to Steve's house, even if it technically was part of camp property.
Steve handed him the kitschy keychain and Eddie quickly added it to his own keyring.
"Don't lose it," Steve said, sounding only moderately strict. "I only have three of those. You and me are the only ones that'll have them, I don't want to hand out the spare."
"Oh," Eddie frowned, glancing up at Steve. "Are you sure you want to give it to me?"
"Yeah, I trust you, man. Plus, I don't mind you letting yourself in whenever," Steve grinned, walking over to his desk and rooting around the papers there.
Eddie pinched his brow in with confusion, not sure how to react to that. What did he mean by 'letting yourself in whenever'? It sounded so off-handed, but Eddie had no clue if he was supposed to take that seriously or… flirtatiously.
Steve had always been friendly, but this felt like it went a bit beyond friendly.
Eddie swallowed lightly, mustering the courage to speak as Steve turned back around with a clipboard in his hand.
"I could move my stuff into your place now, if you want," Eddie asked, idly picking his nail polish. "Easier than having to do it later. Just… make it my spot for the summer."
It was Steve's turn to stare as they stood there quietly for a beat, before Steve seemed to shake himself from his astonishment.
"Yeah! For sure---that's cool, let's do that," Steve agreed quickly, smiling again but not making a move toward the door.
"You want to show me the room I'll be staying in?" Eddie asked, feeling his confidence grow a bit.
"Yes--yeah," Steve waffled, sounding pleased but a bit surprised for some reason. "Follow me."
Eddie chewed his lip lightly and looped his arms behind his back as he followed Steve out of the cabin. He wasn't certain, but Steve had seemed sort of… flustered by the prospect of them actually sharing a living space. The idea of that encouraged Eddie, and he grinned privately to himself as he thought about retiring for the evening with Steve in his little cabin in the woods. It felt… romantic and it really did set Eddie up to succeed.
Eddie was going to make this summer the summer he asked Steve on a date. He wasn't going to chicken out again.
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Present mic x student!reader - keep an eye on you
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Hello there! I hope this message finds you well. I noticed that you had a request for a story involving Present Mic and a student reader. In this particular story, the reader is a werewolf and a foreign exchange student. They are struggling with living in the city and dorms, which is causing them to become increasingly angry, aggressive, and snippy with their classmates and some teachers. Their quirk remains a mystery to everyone. One day, as the reader is walking away from a situation or person, they accidentally bump into Aizawa, All Might, and Mic. In that moment, all three of them catch a glimpse of the reader's eyes, and the reader growls at them with their veins turning black, similar to the television show Wolfblood. - Anon💜
Slamming Bakugo into the lockers, you glared at him harshly.
“You want to go?!” He shouted.
“Guys cut it out!” Kirishima yelled.
He stepped between you, and you stepped back, taking a few heavy breaths, letting out a small ground as you looked at your hands.
“You can’t fight me!” Bakugo laughed.
You swung your hand back, hitting him in the face before you walked away, keeping your head down and hands balled tightly in your hands.
You didn’t want to give in, you didn’t want to get angry.
You took quick and small breaths to try and control your anger, but you could feel rising to the surface, itching to get out despite your attempts at fighting it.
Too busy staring at your hands, you didn’t notice the three teachers walking down the hallways until you walked into one of them, and you stumbled back a few steps.
“Woah kid! Are you good?!”
You snap your gaze up, bright yellow eyes meeting Present Mics.
“(Y/N)?” Aizawa asked.
You barged back the three of them, letting out a small growl, the black veins travelling up your face.
“Wait! What’s the matter?” All Might called.
“Get lost!” You snapped back.
You stormed down the stairs, kicking the main doors to the school open, and the moment you were outside you broke out into a sprint.
Your heart raced in your chest, and you could feel the change coming, despite how much you tried to hold it back it was getting harder and harder.
The three teachers had run after you, splitting up to try make finding you easier.
You had gone to one of the training grounds, I are of the little robot that was alerting the teachers to where you were.
You growled again, clenching your hands tightly as you tired to focus on your breathing, closing your eyes to block everything from the outside world out.
You focused on the sounds of what was around you, come birds, the wind, some things being blown by the wind.
You focused on them, until you could hear the sound of somebody shouting your name.
“Come on kid! This ain’t funny!” Mic shouted out.
He used his quirk to shout your name, and you winced, placing your hands over your ears.
“SHUT THE HELL UP!”
Mic snapped his head to where you shouted from and jogged over, slowly down to a walk when he saw you and he smiled a little bit.
“Yo, you got us all worried for a sec there.*
You let out a deep growl.
“Go away.” You warned
Mic shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets as he gave you a gentle smile.
“No can do, what’s going on? This ain’t like you.”
He looked at your yellow eyes, he wasn’t sure if he should ask about it or not, right now you seemed stressed and on edge and he wanted to try calm you a little.
“Go away!”
“I can’t do that, I’m sorry.”
You growled again, getting more irritated with him, and you snapped.
Your body quickly changed, now a brown wolf pacing back and forth in front of him, snarling and snapping your jaws.
Mic laughed softly, crouching down, resting his arms on his knees.
“Well that’s one cool quirk you got there (Y/N).”
You growled, slowly pacing, keeping your eyes solely fixated on you and he rose his hands.
“Now, I know you’re angry, but this ain’t the way to handle this.”
You growled again, crating a wider circle that you paced around him, keeping a close eye on him.
Your quirk wasn’t one that was usually considered dangerous, but since you couldn’t control it yet, it meant you mainly went into an animalistic state of mind.
Right now looking at your teacher, you were struggling ti distinguish between friend or foe.
Mic smiled at you, staying crouching down.
“You wanna run laps? Go ahead, still ain’t going anywhere kiddo, sorry to break it to ya but ya stuck with me for now”
You kept pacing back and forth, and Mic titled his head a little bit as he watched you carefully.
He looked up as the other teachers slowly came closer, and he held his hand out to tell them to stop, looking back.
Mic got up, taking a few steps backwards towards them so he could talk to them.
As he walked away, you seemed to relax a little bit, and you slowly started to wonder around, checking a few things out, though still a little unsure about the three teachers.
Hearing a noise, you put your head up, ears flicking a little bit as you listened, and you began to pad in that direction.
The three teachers saw something had caught your attention, and they began to follow you in concern.
You kept your light pace as you kept going across the training ground, paws hitting the grass softly, and you finally came to a stop at the stream, stopping for a small drink.
Aizawa, All Might and Mic all spread out, just keeping an eye on you.
You kept wondering the training grounds, and they took turns to follow you, the other two teachers trying to keep the curious students away from the grounds.
Aizawa would just walk alongside you, All Might was a bit more nervous and would trail behind you, offering you some food, Mic would do a mixture of both.
Evening was around, everyone had gone back to the dorms, and the three teachers were with you again as you laid under a tree, head on your paws watching them.
“Do you want a sandwich?” All Might asked.
He held it out and you lifted your head a little, ears perking up which made him smile as he leant forward, giving it to you.
You took it, slowly eating it.
“Are we really going to leave the kid like this?” Mic asked.
“I can’t erase the quirk because I don’t know what it would do. I don’t know if it would hurt, if it’s safe. Right now they seem calm, so we’ll play it out and wait.”
Mic frowned a little but nodded his head, looking back to you in concern.
You’d been like this for hours now, no sign of changing back any time soon, so with a sigh he went back to watching you.
You had long since calmed down, but you didn’t didn’t feel like talking to them, so you hoped maybe they would’ve left.
So, you kept hoping for a little while longer.
Eventually All Might left, and Aizawa left as well, leaving it just you and Mic.
You were hoping for him to leave as well, so you curled in on yourself, decided to take a little nap.
Your little nap turned into you full on sleeping, and you had shifted back in your sleep which made Mic laugh when he saw.
He quietly walked over, covering you up with his jacket and he picked you up to take you back to the dorms.
He wasn’t going to wake you up so he could talk to you, he was just happy to see you were awake, so he took you back to 1-A dorms, putting you on the couch.
“Finally turned back?” Aizawa asked.
Mic nodded, walking over to him.
“Yeah, they seem tired though, must’ve taken a lot out of the kid to hold it for that long*
Aizawa glanced to you.
“Keep an eye on them, when they’re awake we need to talk about their quirk.”
Mic nodded, sitting on the other couch, doing some his paperwork while he kept an eye on you.
You weren’t usually an angry person, or aggressive, so your behaviour earlier in the day worried you, and he wanted to make sure you were alright
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wehangout · 2 days
Note
7 for the prompts ask!
Send me a number prompt and I’ll make it smutty
7. holding their hand under a table
"And then we had to go back again because we got the Chadwick cherry tomatoes instead of the Sweet Million tomatoes!"
Ian laughs, and it sounds genuine, but all you can do is frown at Jill and Alan and wonder why the fuck Ian agreed to this bullshit dinner. Jill and Alan. Ugh. Fuckers have been judging you since you threw the chairs into the pool, which, sure, not you're best move, but mostly fuck them.
And fuck Ian for agreeing to this ... whatever the fuck this is. Double date? Casual get-together? No fucking clue. Definitely not a casual get-together, though. Ian made you wear your good jeans and fuck him for that, too.
You shift in your chair and try not to make it obvious. Ian likes this shit and you love Ian. It's that simple. If he wants to go to a nice restaurant with your shitty neighbours, then you go to a nice restaurant with your shitty neighbours.
But when Jill and Alan - seriously, fuck those guys - start talking about Jill's crazy cousin who spent a month in a nut house because she's a fucking psycho ...
Well, fuck those guys.
You literally feel every moment of your body tensing up. You get tight and your hands curl into fists. You want to hit Alan and yell at Jill, but Ian. Ian won't want you to make a scene. Ian doesn't want everyone to know his shit. Ian can fight his own fucking battles.
Slowly, trying to keep your rage from showing, you pull your hands beneath the table and let them curl into fists.
And Ian - fucking Ian - knows exactly what you're thinking and how you're feeling, and his hand follows, reaches beneath the table, grasps one of yours in his own.
Squeezes.
It's not a calm-the-fuck-down squeeze, or a don't-fuckin'-think-about-it squeeze, or even a let-it-fucking-go squeeze. It's an I-got-you-we're-fine-I-love-you squeeze.
It's reassurance and it's grounding.
You grip his hand right back, thankful that the subject quickly changes to some artsy fucking movie Jill and Alan want to see. Ian asks questions about it, his thumb stroking your knuckles the entire time, and it's good. It helps. Ian helps.
You give his fingers one last touch and go back to your food. Everyone else is almost done because you've been too pissed off to eat the shitty portions of shitty food, but you need to catch up. You need to pretend everything's okay.
Kinda hard when Ian's hand stays beneath the table, when it flattens against your thigh, when his long fingers stroke along the inner seam of your jeans.
You look at him, eyebrows raised, and the smile he gives you in return is totally calm, shows nothing but love, and considering the way he moves his big hand to cover your crotch as he does it, it's a fucking contrast.
You turn back to your food, hands gripping your utensils a little too tight, and, for once in this stupid double date bullshit, try to pay attention to the conversation. You listen to the words and take in the subject matter, nodding along at appropriate times, because if you don't you'll focus solely on the way Ian's hand slowly massages at your hardening dick and that would just be - be ...
"Shit," you mutter.
Everyone stops talking and looks at you - Jill with mild disgust, Alan in confusion, and Ian in concern - even as his hand keeps moving behind the tablecloth.
"Everything okay, Mick?"
You swallow and nod. "Yeah, just thought I forgot to do something."
Conversation continues and Ian doesn't stop. He doesn't stop and he doesn't stop, and he continues to just not stop until you grab his wrist and force him to because you're close to coming in your pants like when you were teenagers and would rub up against each other because that's all you had time for. Only then does Ian stop. He lets you breathe. He waits until you've had a sip of your beer and then moves in again.
You glare at him. He ignores you. He moves his hand up and down your hard cock, using his nail to trace the tip through the denim of your jeans, and it's good, it's so fucking good that whatever the fuck yoga bullshit Jill's talking about doesn't matter. It just doesn't matter. Because Ian's rubbing you through your jeans and it just doesn't matter.
But then you stop him again. You have to. Fuck. You're literally panting at the table - quietly, but panting nonetheless. And they just keep talking. Even Ian, his voice calm and smooth, and that - the contrast of everything he's doing above the table and the filthy shit he's doing to you below the table is too much and not enough.
He moves back again and you look at him, face slack, eyes wide, because he can't be, he can't -
Fuck.
You still have to get through dessert.
He meets your gaze, and even though his smile is still soft and warm, his eyes ...
You know that look. Jill and Alan won't have a fucking clue, but you recognise the heat and want and command in them.
He is. He's going to keep going. He's going to take you to the brink again and again, right at the table, knowing the risks, knowing you could possibly make a fucking fool of yourself at the shitty dinner table at the shitty restaurant in front of your shitty neighbours, but also knowing that it won't happen because he won't let it. He won't let you come until he's good and ready and you - shit - you won't come until he lets you.
You pick up your beer with shaking hands and down it in one.
It's gonna be a hell of a fucking night.
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When I come back home from an appointment, I feel like I have just been briefly transported to another dimension.
It is such a horrible awful sensory experience of being out in the "real world" with real other people. It reminds me of just how impaired I am. Of how my dream-selves and imagined realities only exist in my own mind, and don't reflect my level of ability at all. Wow - you would think I would have better awareness of how disabled I am, with the 19 years of experience.
And brings back all the bad memories of how I was left alone abandoned to "drown" every day, for so long - and all because I can't communicate, in the first place.
It is this strange loud bright place where nothing can be processed or understood. My brain gets stuck in thinking loops, triggered by tiny details I see and hear. While that happens, I am dragged away from what is happening around me and completely miss entire chunks of conversation.
People talk talk talk with their mouths. How do people even make those shapes and sounds with their mouths? Sitting up hurts.
Why is it so loud? My brain feels like it is on fire. I can't move. Why can't I move? I need to get out of here. They are still talking. Why won't someone notice?
That bit of floor is peeling up. People are talking. What are they saying? Why can't my eyes look over there like I want?
It is loud and hot and I can feel every bit of dust and dirt on the ground touching my feet. How do other people live in this world of sensory hell and utter overwhelm?
I want to be part of this conversation - I know I have important things to say. What if Dad forgets the important things? Panic. I can't remember what he has already said. I can't say anything, my device is over there. Oh, it is on my lap now. Why can't I say anything, still? Why can't I think in words?
Who is that? Why is he here? Think back - what did she just say as he walked in?
What is happening now? How do "normal" people keep up with how fast it all is?
I have to stay still. It is quieter now.
Oh, I have to make a choice now. I already signed "I don't know". Decisions are hard. More words from the people. I don't know what I want, but I guess I will point at the same one - I remember doing that last time. I don't know if it is what I want. I just want to be finished now.
They are still talking. It is completely nonsensical noises now, I can't even try to work out what it means. I want to leave. Is the room tilting? I can't feel where my body is.
What was that noise? Oh, I hit the door with my wheelchair. Why is it so hard to drive? Is it safe to drive, when I can't even think except "get out, get out, get out"?
And then I am suddenly back home in bed and I can't quite remember how I got here or how it all happened, or if it even happened at all. The only way I know that it did happen, is the exhaustion and the tense uneasy discomfort that my body is left with.
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Phic Phight - How Not To Resurrect A Half Demon Lord
@lexiepiper @Ghostfox_fuyu
Being both an adventurer AND technically a monster wasn’t exactly the best mix to avoid fights, so it’s a good thing Danny actually LIKED fighting even if he couldn’t exactly ‘go hard’ against humans to avoid, you know, KILLING THEM. Other adventurers though? Yeah they didn’t exactly enjoy fighting what they thought was a weirdly powerful dungeon spawn.
Danny runs, skidding across the ground on his claws, the scrapping sound is loud but nowhere near the volume of the explosion happening right behind him. His tail nearly gets nicked! He’s not happy, not one bit. “WOULD YOU STOP THAT!”.
The mage with a frankly obscenely large hat damn near growls at him, which hey, growling was Danny’s thing. “Silence! Foul demon!”.
For fucks sake! Like yes, he gets that he looks like a demon. He gets that. But could people please just stop assuming that he belonged to whatever dungeon he and they happened to be in? This place was a goddamn lava dungeon, he was an ice demon with a black and white theme! Use your brain! Why would a fucking ice demon be in a lava dungeon!
Which, to be fair, him going into a lava dungeon wasn’t exactly smart or using his own brain; but Sam and Tuck thought this one would get them some sick ass gear so off they went. Of course they wound up getting separated, and of course Danny wound up running into other adventurers with the same idea as his party, and of course they mistook him for a dungeon beast. That’s his classic luck right there, everybody!
Ramming one set of claws into the wall and climbing up the hot rock as fast as he can, channeling some ice to his palms to avoid burning himself, it also was making some super cool-looking mist sizzle off of the rock so that was a neat bonus.
The adventurers trying to annihilate him seem to agree, the dude in black armour muttering to another mage with super orange hair, “hey if I equip ice gauntlets you think I could do that, it looks cool as Hell”. The mage whacks him over the head, ha!
Danny snorts to himself, jumping on to a ceiling stalactite of solid hot magma, ow ow ow ow ow, stupid ice core, stupid Tuck and Sam dragging him into a lava dungeon, stupid him for jumping onto solid magma, stupid stupid stupid. Ugh. But Danny does what Danny typically does when presented with pain, quips, shouting down, “why don’t you give up if you keep misting me!”. Ha! Good one, self. Ow.
The armoured guy chuckles, “I love it when monsters have a sense of humour, makes it so much more fun”, and hurls a goddamn spear at him. Nice, Danny can do spears and show off a little.
Danny launches himself down, grabbing the spear in between his teeth, fangs making it easy to keep the spear in there, and uses the spear head stabbing into the ground below to allow him to basically land going face down before gripping the shaft with his hands and spinning himself into an upright position. Him yanking it out of the ground and spinning it dramatically, grinning meanly, “oh I love free gifts, how’d you know it was my birthday?”, it’s totally not, he’s just being an asshole.
Big hat mage scowling at armoured guy quickly, “nice going, Salient”, then glaring back at Danny. Okay so armoured guy is named Salient, weird but okay. She shoots a fire last at Danny, Danny bats it away with the spear head snickering all the while. Then the other mage hits him with a holy-blast, because of course she does, and sends him into a wall.
He absolutely dropped the spear. Damn. He wanted to add that to his collection, which sure was definitely something he wasn’t doing before the whole resurrection gone wrong crap happened and he some how wound up getting his human souls wires crossed with Hell itself. A fuck up of hellish proportions.
Him shaking off the burn and sizzle from the holy power, at least still being kinda human and alive would stop that shit from outright smiting him, just burned and hurt like a motherfucker. The biggest annoyance his holy sensitivity usually caused him was not being able to use holy based healing potions… which were the cheapest kind aka the kind his party usually used to buy. Demonic based healing potions were the shit for him though, especially since he never had to worry about them debuffing or cursing him.
Orange hair mage huffs, “damn it, that didn’t do it”, scowling, “this place has some seriously strong demons, we might have use a hearth stone if it keeps up like this”.
Danny sticks his hands out to the side, tail twitching, “or maybe! Think a little and realise I’m not from this freaking dungeon!”.
“As if we’d believe a snake tongued demon!”.
Okay that’s just rude! It took him a very long time to learn how to talk with a forked tongue and he had to put up with a lot of mocking from Tuck! He sticks his tongue out at the group before having to climb up a wall again to avoid some thunder bolts from big hat mage and an arch of fire from Salient’s sword. At least he’d learned not to throw solid objects that Danny could grab, progress; progress for them and not him specifically. A very unfortunate specific.
Danny sending out a bit of icy flames that glowed black with his demonic energy to destroy another flame arch from Salient while moving sideways across the wall, he hates this dungeon it’s too fucking hot, goddamn. Zipping up to the ceiling and smacking his claws and palms on it, sending out a powerful wave of pure cold to force the ceiling to start snowing, which of course turns into very hot burning rain by the time it gets down to ground level. The party starts screaming and ducking for cover, that was surprisingly more effective than he expected and he absolutely had not intended to basically rain down boiling demonic water on them. Oops. He figured the snow would melt but not to the point of becoming boiling hot! How much energy was his core expending just to keep him fucking cool in this goddamn hellscape?!?
Danny skittering his way across the ceiling and in-between a gap between a stalactite and the dungeon ceiling, shouting a quick, “not trying to boil ya! Sorry!”. As he goes. Maybe they’ll be too busy hiding to realise where he’s tucked himself away. That would be nice, real nice.
“What kind of demon says sorry!”.
Don’t quip back, don’t quip back, don’t quip back. He’s trying to hide and quiping will fuck that up… “MY SORRY DEMONIC ASS!”, ah goddamn it, why does he do this to himself? Unsurprisingly the stalactite his hiding above gets fucking shot at by a holy bullet. That’s… that’s not great. Those sucked to get hit by and he’d one hundred percent need to be resurrected again if that shit hits his core enough times. But hey! Maybe that would un-demon him! Stupid plan, but hey! At least it is a plan! Plus that did not work when he accidentally fell into a pit of pure holy water. That had been the worst.
The stalactite gets shot at again, this time piercing through it and skimming his shoulder; him making his lip bleed by biting down to avoid yelping. Still hissing out a, “bloody hell”, though, because he could never just shut the fuck up could he? Also, he is officially panting, because it is too fucking hot here and his breath is making a bunch of mist aka giving away his spot more than his stupid quip did. Fuck him entirely.
He’s got three options:
One: start killing adventures like a proper full demon.
Two: overheat and pass out, possibly falling into hard ground or a pool of lava only to be descended upon by adventurers who would definitely hit unconscious him with a holy attack.
Three: leave his hiding spot and start looking for cooler areas while avoiding getting hit or doing any major hitting.
Four: use a hearth stone to teleport out of the dungeon, seems like the obvious choice right? Except when Danny’s half demon ass did that he wound up in Hell every time and Sam and Tuck would have to go through the hassle of getting him back out of there. That crap always resulted in them having to track down yet another ice dungeon and use forbidden demon summoning magic. Meanwhile he’d go throwing hands with demons for however long it took his friends to get him. Not ideal.
Then it turns out that there’s actually a fifth option, a wall blowing up and sending his bullet hole riddled stalactite crashing down towards the ground and exploding in hot semi solid magma. OW! Danny sputtering and shaking himself off aggressively, “oh fuck! Bloody hell! Me damn fuck it! Stupid fucking lava dungeon! Stupid fucking adventurers! Where’s my teammates when I me damn need them!”.
“Shit since when do goddamn demons team up! We need to hurry this up!”.
Then there’s a very loud thump, Danny squinting his fucking burning eyes up at the noise, fuck yeah! It’s Tuck! Nice! The guy’s landed directly on top of the orange haired mage, pointing his fricken lightning cross bow right in her face. The Salient guy getting hurled into a wall by vines seconds later, and a few more seconds and said vines are on fire and brunt to a crisp.
The big hat mage jumping back from the newbies assaulting her group, “great, how many different kinds of demonic vermin does this dungeon have!”, her creating an explosion with electricity to make something of a smoke screen for her to grab Salient out of the hole in the wall the guy made.
But! BUT! That puts their backs to Danny, and Danny might object to killing people but he did not object to bruising them up some. Meaning he launches himself at them, grabbing the back of both of their necks, and slams them into the ground; using his tail to tie their ankles all together. He also grabs the hat mages hat with his teeth and eats the fucking thing as a probably insane looking show of superiority.
Tuck, not looking at Danny and still staring violently down at orange hair mage, “you good, Danny-man?”.
Danny growling, “I’m annoyed, burnt, and vaguely considered making y'all haul me outta hell again for dragging me to this shit ass place”.
Sam walking calmly through the destroyed wall and into where they all are, “honestly I hate this place too. My plant magic is completely useless and I wrecked my helm”.
Danny snorting, “ha! Serves you right!”, he gets elbowed in the chin by Salient for being distracted. But well, an elbow, even armoured, isn’t gonna do much to Danny, so he just growls down at the man while said elbow is being pressed up into his chin.
Tuck snorts at the scene, “I’d stop that, Danny’s an obsidian rank combat warrior”. The mage beneath him scowling, “that is a demon spawn or are you fucking blind?”.
Danny takes offence to that, demon wise he was on par with a demon lord! Not a freaking basic hell spawn! “Excuse you!”. But Tuck laughs at Danny’s expense, “that’s what you get for never fighting back, moron”. Danny sticks his tongue out at the guy.
Sam shaking her head as she walks over to Danny, “seriously, if they attacked you first who cares if you hurt them”, grabbing the unconscious ex-hat mage out from Danny’s grasp, shit he hadn’t actually realized he’d knocked her out. Whoops. Sam pointing a finger at Salient, whose elbow is still pressed into Danny’s chin, “you wouldn’t be holding your own for shit if Danny took you seriously”.
“Pfft, I could take him”.
The orange hair mage snapping, “are you serious right now?! You are literally being pinned down you idiot!”.
Danny nodding, “glad we’re on the same page on that”; rolling his shoulders as he can feel some of the burning healing itself, he’d be healing a hell of a lot faster if he wasn’t in this damn hot lava dungeon though.
Tuck rolling his eyes before staring down at the orange hair mage, “look. Danny’s an adventure, he literally has a license on him right now. The only reason he’s in this dungeon is ‘cause we heard there was some bomb ass equipment in here, same as you guys probably”.
Sam laughing a bit meanly as she gives the ex-gay mage a healing potion since Danny probably gave her a concussion, “Danny’s not a ‘hell spawn’ he’s a fucked up resurrection spell gone wrong”.
Salient snorting, “prove it! And how the Hell did that happen?”. Danny snickers, “hell happened”; Tuck moving his crossbow out of orange hair mages face specifically to shoot Danny with it.
“Ow! You jerk!”.
Unfortunately orange hair takes that opportunity to blast Tuck nearly point blank in the stomach with a holy blast, sending him smashing up into the ceiling. Oh Hell fucking no, attacking Danny was one thing, he was a demon-looking mother fucker and could take hits like a champ; attacking his friends was a whole ass nother matter. At least Sam catches Tuck with some vines as he starts falling down from the ceiling and Tuck wasn’t knocked out by the attack.
Still though. Danny is none too impressed. And he refuses to tolerate a repeat of that, so just as the orange haired friend hurting asshat gets herself up off of the ground Danny lets himself loose more than a little bit. Limbs extending, spines pulling up out of his upper back and shoulders, second set of kudu horns extending out, ribs cracking and expanding through and over his torso skin to settle into a bigger form, that stupid gharial crocodile skull boiling and forming out of and off of his head; him all but shoving orange hair back into the ground and pinning her there with a single hand. Slamming the other hand down near her face, using a foot to keep the Salient guy pinned. Danny snarling, snout opening right over the mages face, “shoot at me all you want but you don’t get to hurt what’s mine”.
Tuck’s shaking off all that holy power, grumbling about stupid trigger happy adventurers as if he wasn’t one himself and stomps over to fucking shoot orange hair in the face with some sand; her unable to do anything about it because of Danny.
Salient muttering, “holy fucking shit, goddamn”. While Sam stops over to him, Sam smacking Danny’s ankle, “give over your license, you demonic horror”. Danny huffing out an icy breath in orange hairs face, moving his tail to use the many little quill hair spines on it to grab out his license from his torso inside his ribs, slipping it into her hands, “thank you”, she shoves the license in the probable warriors face, “see? Adventurer. You really think Clementine would approve him without goddamn checking him and his bullshit out?”.
He grunts from under Danny’s foot, “fair ‘nough. You tryin’ to crush me here?”.
Danny huffing another icy breath, “maybe”. Sam smacks his ankle again so Danny, with a shrug, lifts up his foot and lets the guy up. Danny thinks some mild crushing is totally deserved in this case, even if that was maybe influenced by these guys hurting his friends and making him feel all possessive and shit. Demon crap could be so annoying; being in this hot ass place only making it more annoying.
Salient rolls over and sits up, rolling his shoulders, “ow yeah, definitely not a spawn, damn”, eyeing himself over, “aw man, you cracked my shoulder pad. License doesn’t look fake though so”, looking up at Danny, “bad ass ability though”.
Danny tilts his skull head at the guy before looking back down to orange hair, “you gonna keep trying to annihilate me?”.
“You’re a demon”.
“And?”, lifting the hand that isn’t pinning her and waving it around dismissively, “it’s only a by half thing anyway”.
Tuck chuckling down at her, “need I point out that Danny could absolutely just crush you right now? Yeah, okay, so he’s sorta a demon, and sorta dead and not dead, but he’s not confined to a dungeon or Hell and he’s an adventurer. adventurers run into weird shit all the time, it’s not his fault he is the weird shit”. The girl glares but sighs, clearly giving up, so Danny basically forces himself to compact, puffing icy steam everywhere. Tuck grinning, “so dramatic”.
Danny pointing a normal standard human length clawed finger in the guys face, “hey, if there’s one thing I do well, besides confusing people and myself, it is dramatics”; if he was gonna be stuck as some weird dead but not dead, from the afterlife Hell but not from Hell, then he can be an overdramatic asshole about it.
Orange hair gets up immediately and moves over to the still unconscious ex-hat mage, muttering, “good, they didn’t poison her or anything. Damn demon worshipers”. Oh for fucks sake, was it really that hard to understand that he was a good guy and just a weird but typical adventurer? Ugh. Plus! He’s definitely a higher rank than her, so rude.
Salient standing up and shaking himself off, shouting at his teammate, “Lily good?”; nice, Danny’s got another name.
Orange hair sighs, “yeah. They didn’t do anything to her besides knock her out”. Oh everyone’s a critic.
Danny rolling his eyes and huffing, “you say that like you guys weren’t trying to fucking destroy me. Again, you gonna keep doing that shit? ‘Cause I’m positive all three of us outrank you guys, we just don’t exactly want to start having to fucking kill people just because people keep thinking I’m a me damned dungeon monster”.
Sam shaking her head and moving to be over by Tuck and Danny, “at least they didn’t think you were the dungeon boss this time”.
“Oh Hell that had been such a pain”.
Salient chuckles and looks at him, “you make a lot of ‘Hell’ comments and shit”.
Danny shrugging with a smirk, “hey if I’ve gotta be slightly, vaguely, hell bound then I might as well take the piss outta it”.
Orange hair glaring at Salient, “seriously? You’re making friendly with it now?”.
Danny pouts, “hey, rude much”. While Sam and Tuck laugh at him meanly.
Salient shoves her, “chill, aren’t adventurers supposed to at least try to get along. At least he’s not another psycho paladin who's just using his god as an excuse to commit way too much murder”.
Danny’s entire little party nodding, “yeah fuck paladins”. Earning them a scowl from orange hair, “we all know why you demon-lovers wouldn’t like paladins”.
Then Lily groans a little, sitting up and holding her head, “well at least I’m alive”.
Danny snorting, “yeah I have a thing against committing murder”.
“That is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard a demon say”.
Danny pouts at her. He gets that demons have a terrible rap, an earned terrible rap, but cut a guy some slack will ya? It would be so nice if he could shapeshift to look fully human, he bets that in some other universe he definitely could and he is jealous of that version of him. Stupid fucker probably got all the super sneaky useful abilities. Like being able to turn invisible or something, that would have been so useful today. Ugh.
Lily looking to her party members, “so care to explain what’s going on here?”.
“Demon dude is a legit adventurer, licensed and everything”.
Orange hair just grumbles incomprehensibly.
Sam crossing her arms at the three, “I’m Sam, platinum rank herbalist and green mage. The one with the crossbow is Tucker, silver rank earth mage and gear smith. And the half demon, that you are to stop attacking, is Danny, obsidian rank combat warrior as already mentioned; he’s also a weapons smith and death magic apprentice. Yes he’s a resurrection spell gone wrong, he did it to himself somehow, but people screw up spells all the time so whatever”.
Danny shrugging, “I mean, typically they don’t screw up so impressively they fuck up half their genetic species but yeah”; Sam swats him one, expertly avoiding the horns.
Salient snorts, “you’re a death magic apprentice and you made your self half dead? WOW you suck”.
“Hey!”, Danny puts a hand to his chest, “technically it’s useful, this way I can actually go to one of the death planes now without slowly dying”.
Lily shakes her head disbelievingly, “ridiculous and inane”, gesturing at herself, “Lily, steel rank lightning high mage”, gesturing at Salient, “Salient, silver rank knight”, gesturing at orange hair, “Gemine, iron rank white mage and apprentice priestess”. Tilting her head, “why is an obsidian with a platinum and a silver? He’s three and four ranks above you two respectively?”.
Danny waves her off immediately, “eh, I was gold before the demon shit fucked my shit up. And I am the leader so it’s not that odd”. Sam nodding, “if anything it’s weirder that an iron is travelling with a silver”.
Gemine scowling, muttering to herself, “of course the demon is the leader, disgusting”. Lily cuffs her over the head, making the girl pout. Lily nodding, “demons are more powerful than the living so I suppose that is logical, and a lower rank priestess will best any higher rank warrior”, glancing around, “where’s my hat?”.
Sam and Tuck stare at Danny judgingly, him rubbing his neck, “I ate it?”; it was a heat of the moment thing okay! He makes really dumb decision when he’s put on the spot!
Salient nodding with a smirk, “yeah, it was pretty weird”.
Danny pouting, “I’m not paying you back for it”, twitching, “and can we get the fuck out of this hot ass place already?”, looking at Sam and Tuck, “if you found nothing good I’m gonna be so annoyed”. Sam rolling her eyes and digging in her bag, pulling out a little unassigned demon core. Yum! Him brightening up immediately, “oh nice! This was so worth getting shot by holy bullets!”.
“Danny!”.
“Dude what!”.
Danny grabbing the core and biting into it, much to the disgust of his unwitting onlookers, “eh it was just a shoulder nick and I am literally covered in lava and holy light burns so that’s kinda not what I’m focused on”. Basically dumping the demonic energy down his gullet with a happy purr.
Salient pulling a face, “wow that is disgusting, awesome”. Lily sighs tiredly before gesturing at Danny’s party, “so are we good to just go our separate ways?”. Danny’s down for that, his burns were healing much better now even if he was still hot as hell.
Sam crossing her arms, “depends on if you’re going to keep harassing Danny”; Danny’s just content to lick his chops in demonic satisfaction. Gemine pouting, “I won’t be able to vanquish him so fine, I won’t”.
Danny giving her a thumbs up, “that’s the spirit, now let’s get the hell outta this furnace before my core decides I deserve to over heat”. Sam and Tuck roll their eyes at him and laugh, Tuck patting his shoulder as they all turn to wander off to the exit. The other party of adventurers awkwardly heading deeper into the dungeon.
Danny stretching a little, going all demon always made him feel like his bones were all fucked up and needed a stretching, “so find anything else?”.
“Lightning bolt in a bottle”.
“Bone dagger. Lots of bone daggers”.
“Oh and a whole ass dragon hide, it’s in the dimensional pocket”.
“We did put all the random gem stones in there too right”.
“Uh…”.
“Damn it, Tucker”.
Danny laughs to himself, shaking his head. This day was some bullshit but at least they didn’t leave empty handed, and wasn’t finding treasure and getting to throw fist-a-cuffs the whole point of being an adventurer? Even if he’d rather be beating up dungeon monsters than constantly having to duke it out with other adventurers.
---
Of course they don’t even make it a full day before running into the very same party. At least this time they’re at the adventurers guild so there’s no way he’s gonna get attacked again.
Gemine blinking at Danny, “so you actually can leave the dungeon”.
Danny rolling his eyes, “yeah it’s almost like I was telling the truth or something”. Hell, he seldom lied about shit, people just thought it was all too ridiculous to be true.
Lily looks to the desk lady, quirking an eyebrow then gesturing at the demon in the room. Juhe blinking and smiling, understanding quickly, “yes the demon is welcome here, yes he’s an adventurer, no you’re not allowed to vanquish him, and no he’s not mind controlling anyone”.
Salient chuckles, putting a hand on his hip, “wow it sounds like this happens a lot”. Tuck shaking his head, “you have no idea”; before Sam goes up to make their report to the guild master. Technically Danny’s supposed to do that, being the leader and all, but head office had a barrier around it and they refused to take it down just for Danny’s sorry ass, meaning compromises were made.
Danny nodding at the guy, “anytime we go into a dungeon and run into a party that hasn’t met me before, it turns into a fight”, rubbing his neck, “which has earned me the title of adventurers bane since I keep basically having to beat down adventurers until they give up”.
Juhe nodding, “and he helps out the enforcers sometimes, since he can be quite the intimidating presence”.
“Boo, having a demonic aura isn’t my fault, and if just a simple demonic aura is enough to scare someone they probably shouldn’t be an adventurer”.
“You forget most adventurers do gathering quests and less dangerous dungeons”.
“Pah!”.
“You also forget that your demonic aura is that of a demon lord not a simple spawn or lesser demon”.
Danny’s only response to that is a pout.
Lily had been about to go up and make her own report, one foot stopping in midair, “that one is… a demon lord?”, and looks very concerned at Danny. While Salient grins to himself, “sweet, I got to fight a demon lord. Man that’s cool”.
Danny blinks, shrugging, “I was a wee bit miffed about suddenly being very literally in hell one time, not the time I fucked my resurrection up, and went demon killing happy. Two might have been demon lords and one was definitely a death god”.
All three look at him in shock, horror, or looking just plan impressed in Salient’s case. Lily shaking her head, “alright, you very well could have annihilated us”.
Johe glancing at some paperwork, “you three are silver, steel, and iron? Yes, you would not have stood a chance if taken seriously by him. He’s officially listed as obsidian, but he’s closer to iridium, which still stands as our highest class”.
Danny blushing, “aw shucks”.
“Don’t you ‘aw shucks’ me, if you’re that flattered then stop leaving your tail quills in the lobby wall”.
“Hey! It has a mind of its own”.
“It’s still attached to you, ain’t it?”.
Danny pouts at her, tail twitching near the ground, he’s half tempted to stab the wall with it just to be petty. He did petty very very well after all.
Lily shakes herself before finally going up to give her report; Danny absolutely hearing Sam whisper a threat at her, “Danny’s a lot nicer than the rest of us, don’t pull that shit with him again or else I won’t hesitate using a mind vine to make you break your party members”, as they pass in the stairway. He makes a point to roll his eyes disappointedly at her when she makes it down fully.
His friends were great but so over protective and possessive of him, it was nice but also a pain. She rolls her eyes right back at him as the three of them head out, waving bye to Salient and Gamine as more of a form of pleasantries than genuine fond fair-wells or whatever. They ain’t friends and weren’t gonna suddenly become them, something Danny was frankly fully uninterested in. He had his Sam and Tuck and was definitely not interested in sharing them.
End.
Prompts: Fantasy/rpg setting. Danny died, but the resurrection spell went wrong, and now he’s trapped as something not quite dead but not fully alive either. Not that he’d ever let that stop him from becoming an adventurer, even if he does get mistaken as a resident dungeon monster by other adventuring parties every now and then… Demon!au
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urfavlarry · 2 days
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I really wanna see a Ashlyn x Reader where the Reader gets bullied and Ashlyn hears this and comforts reader while the other group members deal with the bullys?
Ashlyn Banner x bullied!reader
warnings: mentions of bullying, swearing, bad grammar
A/N: really hope I wrote this well, I tried my best and sorry if it seems rushed :,) <3
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Ashlyn knew something was wrong the moment you came to class with a bruise under your eye. You weren’t acting that different, you flinched more often but you were still pretty cheerful. She only decided to confront you when you came to her house after school had ended all bruised up with your nose bleeding. You explained to her how things have been getting hard at school, that there were rumours spread about you and people bullied you. She of course was there for you, letting you cry and talk your heart out for hours. You both didn’t go to school for a day so you could relax and have some time for yourself, talking about it and what you want to do about it and here you were, in the present day, about to go to school with the rest of the group.
You sighed and walked aside Ashlyn as the rest of the group chatted about something you didn’t really took interest in. Today you were going to confront your bullies, well at least try to. The ‘plan’ was for you to confront them if they tried anything and Ashlyn would help you out while the rest of the group kept watch in case anything went wrong. You slipped a note into one of your bullies locker and headed to class.
After long and painful 6 hours of school, you walk to the bleachers behind the school where you told them to meet you, and to your surprise they were already there. Ashlyn wasn’t with you since you just wanted this to be over with so you went without waiting for her. “Look who came guys! The weird stalker.” Yeah, the rumours were about you stalking some girl from their group. They thought you were stalking her after “copying her” and just showing up at the same place she was for a week straight. And the copying was literally just wearing something similar or the same colour as her. “For the last time, I’m not a stalker.” You say and clench your fists. They all laugh, making your face heat up slightly. The girl you ‘stalked’ came up to you and smirked. “Well, if you didn’t stalk me, then tell me your sorry of an excuse of what actually happened.” She says and looks at you with a scowl. Your legs start to tremble a bit but you keep up your stern expression. “I did not stalk you, everything was just a coincidence and I also didn’t even wear the same things as you! And just because I wore the same socks or had the same necklace, that let me inform you, half of the school has, doesn’t mean I’m fucking stalking you—!” You get pushed to the ground and the girl gets on top of you, punching you right in the nose. You fight back, holding her fists so she can’t hit you but her little minions help her out, making you defenceless.
Meanwhile Ashlyn was frantically searching for you, trying to hear at least some sound of you anywhere. The group was right behind her when Logan yells for everyone. Everyone rushes to the back of the school and Ashlyn doesn’t waste a second and throws the girl off of you, grabbing you by the hand and drags you away. She whispers something to Tyler and he nods, waving the others over. You don’t know what happened after that since Ash dragged you to sit at a bench in front of the school. She takes out bandages and starts to clean your wound. “Ash it’s just a scraped knee..” You say and she scoffs; “So? It can get infected.” She says and gives you a tissue for your bleeding nose. You shrug and look away, too embarrassed to even speak.
Ashlyn decides to break the silence and says in a stern voice; “Why didn’t you wait for me? I told you we would go together so nothing could go wrong!” She says and raises her voice slightly. You frown and stutter out a response; “I.. I thought I could.. you know, do it by myself? It’s my ‘battle’ not yours.” She grabs you by the shoulders and makes you stand up. She pulls you into a hug and you sigh, wrapping your arms around her.
“Hey, I’m fine..” You say and pat her back. She lets go of you and cups your cheek. “Y/N?” “Hm?” You look her in the eyes, falling in love over again, getting lost in her beautiful emerald green eyes. “Promise me, that if anyone bothers you ever again that you will tell me. Please don’t keep these things to yourself, I, I mean we care about you and don’t want you to be alone during these times.” She says and you nod, smiling at her. “I promise.” She nods and you see the rest of the group approaching you. You wave and notice some of them are bruised up. Your eyes widen and run over; “Hey, what the hell? What happened?” You say frantically and Taylor pats your head. “We took care of them.” She says and Tyler interrupts; “They won’t ever lay another finger on you.” He says and squeezes your shoulder. “Yeah! We got their asses good!” Aiden yells and jumps on your back, making all off you laugh, Ashlyn slightly jealous. You smile at the situation, you had the best group of friends you could ever wish for along with your wonderful girlfriend. Maybe everything went well after all.
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ellafushiguro · 3 days
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“Not bad…” Chapter 2
(Links to: Prologue & Chapters 1 & 3)
You didn’t bump into Hange on the way to the mess hall this morning. Huh, maybe she’s already there waiting for me. Oddly enough, she wasn’t there either. In fact, no one was. A completely empty dining hall, other than the cooks. You picked up a cookie and ate it on your way out.
Carrying your Captain’s morning tea in the usual tea tray, you knock on his office door. Nothing. You peep your head into, also, an empty office. Was there a meeting you weren’t notified about or something? You leave the tea on his desk, eager to investigate. It’s too quiet around here…
You run into Mikasa and Armin, on their way to see the medic. Finally, someone! “Hey guys, oh god, Armin what happened?” He looks up at you, holding onto Mikasa with one arm, the other holding an ice pack to the side of his cheek. “Goodmorning Lt” he groans, “oh yenno the usual… got my ass kicked hah… nothing too serious!” There was a training session today? Why weren’t you notified? “Ah I see, I didn’t know. I thought I was going crazy for a sec. I couldn’t find anybody.” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “Captain Levi didn’t tell you?” Mikasa asks. “It wasn’t on his calendar” you shrug. “Huh. But anyway, they’re all out back in the field. We’ll catch ya later.” Armin says with a soft smile. They give you a quick salute and went on their way. You had some documents that needed Levi’s signature ASAP. You make your way to the woods behind the castle.
You start to hear faint groans and the sound of sticks click clacking the closer you get to the training ground. You’ve never been back here before. You never really had a reason to. Making your way through the trees, bugs buzzing all around you, branches poking out at you in all directions, getting caught in your hair and one getting caught on your skirt. Ah shit. You try to pull it out, and while doing so, it ripped the side of your skirt creating a side slit. This is why you work in a frickin office!!!!! You’ve turned into such a mess while in this damn forest. Fuck it, you’re in too deep to turn back now. You’ll explain yourself later. You grumble under your breath.
You breathe a sigh of relief as you finally make it out, in one piece. You see all of the younger cadets spread out on the open field fighting, teaching each other, throwing each other, some even doing all kinds of kicks and flips trying to dodge hits. Ah, those were the days. You thought back to when you were once a cadet. For a 15 year old, you were a quick and eager learner and turned out to be an even greater fighter. But that was years ago. You’ve been working in administration since you were 18. You’ve been sidelined for the last 7 years. You haven’t picked up a sword or even thrown a punch ever since. You wonder if you still got it. I mean you’re only 25, it’s not like you’re old.
You search the crowd for Captain Levi. From across the field, you see him standing next to Commander Erwin, Hange, Miche, and Nanaba deep in conversation. You raise your arm up as high as you can, trying to wave him down and get his attention. But nothing. You can’t exactly go around the cadets since they were so spread out. It’s too early for this shit. You were running around the castle all morning, left out of the day's schedule, it’s hot, your legs are sweating in your leather boots, and you were almost just devoured by the damn forest. Your good mood has quickly turned sour, and just keeps getting worse by the minute standing here in this heat. I just need him to sign these damn papers. All this shit just for some frickin documents! But they’re important ones… and they need to be mailed out by lunchtime… so you suck it up. You make your way towards the middle of the crowd, feeling yourself get worked up. The deeper you get into the crowd, the more dusts of dirt fly around into the air, making it a little hard to see. You use your hand to try and fan it from your face, but through the dust someone grabs your hand and throws you down. “What the hell! It’s me, Lt L/N!” I guess they didn’t hear you because whoever it was, wasn’t finished with you. You roll yourself away from them and bump into someone else who grabs your arm and lifts you up, finally someone coming to my rescue, you thought, only to see a fist flying toward you. You quickly dodge the punch leaning to the right, fuck this I’ve had enough! You clench your right hand into a fist and swing, knocking whoever it was to the ground. Damn that felt good. You felt something awaken inside of you. You turn around to start walking again but was met with the same thing… again… and again… and again. Blind with rage, you blacked out.
Once the dust had cleared, you found yourself standing a bit further away from where you last remembered, which was the middle of the field. Panting, you looked down at your hands. Knuckles bruised and bleeding. Your clothes were covered in dirt with a bit of blood that for sure wasn’t yours, the top two buttons on your blouse finally gave up and is now showing more of your chest, and the slit on your skirt from earlier was torn even higher exposing your whole right thigh. Surprisingly your satchel was still hanging around your neck. What the… Then it hit you. You blacked out. Just like the incident from 7 years ago. You look around the field only to see half of the cadets knocked out, and the other half groaning in pain. “Oi, Y/N.” You looked up and locked eyes with Captain Levi from where he was standing with the others. You turned to look at Commander Erwin, who had a look of satisfaction on his face. Hange, eyes practically popping out of her glasses. Miche and Nanaba, trying to hold back their amusement. The skin in between Levi’s eyebrows scrunched together. You dust yourself off and exhaustedly walk over to him, pulling out a pen and the documents. “I need you to sign these sir.” He looks down at the papers in your shaking hands, and then back up at you. His heart skipped a beat. Our dear Captain Levi was speechless. A rare occurrence. And the others noticed too.
She’s a fuckin mess. A beautiful… goddamn mess…
Yeeesh, he looks like he wants to rip my head off…
“I’ve been wondering when I’d finally be able to see you in action Lt L/N.” Commander Erwin finally speaks up.
“Not bad.”
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kirythestitchwitch · 2 days
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Klaroline WIP Wed - fake sexy lamp au
Okay so like the basic premise of this fic is that Klaus finds out about Elena and in order to keep an eye on his doppelgänger, comes to town before Stefan and fake woos her in the guise of a college student. He just doesn't count on her extremely opinionated best friend Caroline butting her nose into everything and messing with all his plans and getting under his skin.
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It was astonishing what a thousand years could do to a place. The last time he’d seen the village that would become Mystic Falls, it had been a half burned wreck, a testament to the sins of fathers coming to roost on the sons. Now? 
Well, it was no longer on fire, Klaus thought blandly, looking around the town square. One could term that an improvement. It was disgustingly picturesque in that true Southern Americana way. 
As he flipped through the file folder he’d had liberated from the Sheriff’s file folder drawers by a convenient deputy, he rubbed at his jaw absently, fingers missing the usually present stubble. Going undercover, at his age. The temptation to burn this town to the ground—again—and take his doppelgänger and go simmered pleasantly in his veins, except for that one pesky loophole: the ceremony had to be completed in the birthplace of the doppelgänger. From all accounts, that was Mystic Falls, VA. So here he was, blending in. 
Was this how the average American youth wore their clothes, so ill-fitting? He hadn’t worn anything that hadn’t been tailored for him in the past several centuries that he hadn’t taken in desperation on the run from Mikael. It seemed rather ridiculous to complain of one’s trousers being too tight when your own father figure was trying to stake you through the heart.
Kol had managed it, both the too tight trousers and the complaining. Probably he should have spent the majority of the 80s daggered instead of doing enough cocaine to keep El Padrino in business, but his little brother’s terrible fashion decisions aside, he didn’t think they had ever stooped so low as to buy off the rack. 
The jeans and t-shirt Klaus wore, along with the thin zip-up hoodie, and converse sneakers were designed to make him appear younger. Those, and the addition of a paint smeared backpack slung over one shoulder, seemed to be performing the desired result: before he’d compelled him, the deputy had asked Klaus if he was taking classes at Whitmore. 
Which brought him back to the contents of the folder: the drowning deaths of Grayson and Miranda Gilbert, and the mysterious rescue of Elena Gilbert. It was clear the car accident was just that, an accident, but what flummoxed the good members of the Mystic Falls Police Department was how his Doppelgänger got out of that vehicle. Indeed, she had no memory of having done so.
Where in town, he mused to himself, would I locate the one person who could rip open a car door with their bare hands?  Closing the folder, he slid it under a second folder, flipped it open to see a paper clipped photo of a square-faced young-looking man with green eyes and light brown hair. An odd little brush of memory hit him as the man laughed, an arm around his shoulders, the sound of jazz in his ears, blood and gin mingling in his throat. Blink, and it was just a photo again. 
A shadow fell across the page. “Nik, I’m bored.”
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duuhrayliegh · 5 months
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consequences
a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO
also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW
other works
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“You want to what?"
"To open our relationship."
You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.
"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."
He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.
"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."
You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.
"I still can't believe he said that to you."
The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.
"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"
The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.
"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."
You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.
"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"
You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.
"Focus on me, Peanut."
Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.
Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.
You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.
“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.
“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”
Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.
“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”
You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.
“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.
"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."
This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.
"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."
You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.
"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."
There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.
"I call bullshit."
Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.
"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"
Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."
Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.
"You can't bullshit my feelings."
He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.
"Uh, yeah I can."
He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.
"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"
You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.
"I don't know, four months?"
“Four months, twenty days."
Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.
"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."
He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.
"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."
His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.
"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"
"But he--"
"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."
"He didn--"
"Yes, he did."
Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.
"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."
Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.
"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."
You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.
"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.
What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--
"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"
"What if we end up not working out?"
"What if we do?"
The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.
"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"
You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.
"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."
Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.
A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.
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venuslut · 3 months
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FANTASIZING ABOUT being fucked by Sukuna’s stomach tongue ♡.
He’ll beckon you over, feeling generous, and loosen your kimono to where you’re basically naked, hanging on by your obi. Sukuna grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you straddled his waist. The mouth on his abdomen formed and opened with a sinister grin, its lips parting as if it were ready to devour you. The elongated tongue that emerged from it was slick and glistening, invitingly beckoning you closer.
“Go ahead," Sukuna rasped, his voice filled with dark desire. "Ride me, brat."
Hesitantly, you lowered yourself onto his mouth. Feeling the wet warmth of his waiting mouth against your most intimate parts. His tongue, long and sinuous, flicked out to taste you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation was both invasive and exhilarating, the slickness of his tongue gliding against your folds, teasing your sensitive clit sending shivers down your spine and a weak cry left your lips.
Sukuna gave you a few seconds to stew in the feeling before his hands tightened their grip on your hips, and brought you down to fully sit on his mouth. His tongue curled and twisted inside you, hitting all the right spots, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Each thrust of your hips brought you closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building within you like a raging storm. Making your breath hitch and your body tremble with need. Sukuna uses his lips and tongue to worship your most sensitive areas, alternating between delicate licks and harder, rhythmic strokes. Sukuna's hands, warm and possessive, slide up your sides, his fingers digging slightly into your flesh. He keeps his touch firm, grounding you as you ride the waves of pleasure. His mouth and tongue work relentlessly, building the intensity of your pleasure with every passing second.
As he devours you with his sinful mouth, he keeps his eyes locked on yours, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy. He wants nothing more than to bring you to the peak of pleasure, to feel you quiver against his lips, and to drink in every drop of your sweet release. “God, you’re so…pathetic,” he bloviated, amused at your shameless display of eroticism. While you are in your own world of pleasure, Sukuna raised one arm from his top set and one from his lower set to cup your breasts that were bouncing enticingly in front of him. You didn’t think too much of it outside of the usual stimulation until you felt a wet and slimy feeling touch your breasts, and you realized that he was using the mouths on his hands to lick your boobs.
You mewled as his mouths began sucking and teasing your hardened nipples with his tongue. Lavishing attention to your sensitive peaks. Your body arches, your chest poking out to push deeper into his hands. It is intense. His tongue alternates between your cunt and your clit before focusing on the sensitive bundle of nerves, abusing it til you see stars. Your feedback is choppy, like your brain can’t comprehend how good his ministrations are making you feel. Only broken moans escape your lips and you shudder. “You love getting used like this, huh?” He remarked in a condescending tone, smirking because he knows you can’t even register what he’s saying. “Moaning like a bitch in heat, you must love getting used like a whore,” he continued.
The sounds of your moans reverberated through the grand hall and Sukuna loved how dumb you were acting. Taking the experience to a new level, he took his free hand from his lower set of arms to reach behind you and place a hand over your ass. He was slick, coming in slow and then when you least expected it, he opened the mouth on his hand and stuck his tongue in your asshole. Your eyes that were downcast and glazed over immediately shot open and you shrieked in surprise. That was the catalyst to your orgasm and you released all over his tongue, the slithery appendage lapped up every drop of your juices eagerly, not letting a single ounce go to waste. The taste of your climax on his tongue is like ambrosia, and he relishes in the way your body tenses and spasms against his mouth. And when your release was done, went back into your cunt to resume fucking you to your next orgasm. You quickly began to squirm in his hold and tried to move away from the hand that penetrated your puckered hole, but was held down by Sukuna’s imposing grip.
He grinned evilly at your reaction, “what? You’re telling me you’ve never had anything in this hole?” You shook your head frantically as tears began to well in your eyes, uncomfortable at the sensation of his tongue wriggling around in your asshole. “No… it’s dirty,” you sniffed, feeling shame creep up on you. “Well, I’m happy to be the first. You should be honored, I’m teaching you how to be a proper whore for your husband,” he mused. His tongue extended and curled deeper into you, pressing into sensitive spots you didn’t know you had. This all so knew to you and it came so suddenly, all you wanted to do was run away from this newfound pleasure. His words only served to embarrass you further and make you want to try harder to get away.
Sukuna narrowed his eyes in annoyance at your incessant squirming, smacking your ass with his only free hand. “Behave.” He commanded, his voice deep and domineering, sending a fearful shiver of dread down your stomach. His command making you still immediately. But as you still, all the pleasure comes at you, receiving stimulation from the tongue in your cunt, the mouths on your nipples, and now the tongue in your asshole. Being confronted with all these different types of oral stimulants, you cum quick and without warning. You feel the pleasure burn through your tummy and legs. You cry out, unable to control your voice or your shuttering, digging your nails into his chest and leaving long red scratches. Sukuna could heal those easily, but he wants to leave them there to heal on their own, so he can parade them around like a trophy. He revels in the way you lose control, in the way you let the pleasure consume you, and he wants to have those moments etched into his skin.
And while he appreciates your sounds of ecstasy, you’re beginning to get a little too loud for him. Taking his last free hand, he places it over your mouth, the mouth on his palm eagerly latched onto you, its tongue exploring your mouth with an animalistic hunger. As Sukuna's tongue expertly danced with yours, his other two hands removed themselves from your breasts and found their way to your hips, his grip possessive and demanding. He pulled you off his stomach mouth and moved you lower, the bulge in his robes pressing against your thigh, a clear indication of his own undeniable desire from seeing you come undone. Sukuna took his hand away and broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he pulled away, a wicked grin etched on his face. He had only begun to savor the taste of your submission, and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
"Now, my little whore," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with an intoxicating mix of sadism and lust. "Let's see how long you can handle my insatiable hunger. I didn’t prepare your tight little holes for nothing."
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Simon screwing you in the shower.
The warm water dripped over your bodies like rain, coating everything inside of the shower with a layer of wetness. Sealed inside the oasis, a thick layer of heavy condensation filled the air, making all that you touched from each other to the walls slick.
Simon's large hand dug into your hip, making sure he had a good, strong grip on your thigh that he held up against his side so that he could thrust inside you easily.
Your hand was pressed against the foggy glass of the shower door, using it as a bit of leverage to keep you steady while those wide, muscular hips of his ground into your own as they rolled his cock into your pussy over and over again.
"Fuckin' hell," that husky voice hit your ears over the sound of the running water. His raw lips had just disconnected from around the tender flesh of your neck to move higher up towards your ear as he left a trail of burning kisses all along the moist surface.
Head back as he worked his magic, you felt him hum into your skin, his hips never loosing speed as he kept that's delirious rhythm steady on. "Cannot get enough of ya," he growled. "Even when I'm inside ya, I need more. I'm fuckin desperate, luv. Goddamn desperate."
Two beefy arms shoved you back suddenly as Simon pulled out of you, making you hit the back wall with a light thud as your body bounced off of it, but quickly you were scooped back up as he wrapped those arms back around your waist to hoist you up, making you throw your legs around him to hold on.
"Goddammit, I can't take it, need more... now," the desperation in his tone made your legs vibrate. Your clit twinged as he moved in and caught your lips with his own, squatting down so that he could realign his cock with your entrance and strike back up into you in one smooth motion.
All this wet, all this warmth, all this tepid flesh at his disposal, that only made the primal part of himself gain full control. As your bodies slipped and slid across each other, your back pressed firmly against the shower wall as your tits were pressed into his chest, he could do nothing more that rut into you like some beast hell bent on getting what was his.
His pace caught right back up to where it was seconds before, not a moment to spare. "You've put me under a spell, ya bitch," he grunted with the force of his thrusts. "I can't stop fuckin' pining for this tight little pussy. Gonna go fuckin' mad."
Your forearms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you held on while he bucked wildly in and out of you. The muscles in his back contracted and released under your fingertips, another sign of just how desperately rough his movements were.
His flesh was on fire, burning for you and only you, and even the water from the shower head was no help in taming it's flames. There was a part of him that worried he would not be able to stop until he had completely devoured everything inch of you; that was how strong his need was.
"Mine," he claimed aloud as you whimpered into his shoulder, his cock hitting that specific bundle of nerve ending inside you. "You're all mine, sweetheart. Ya got that? I can't fuckin' stand the thought of anyone else havin' ya, ever."
"Yes," you breathed, "say it again baby."
He smirked. "You're mine, mine. No one else can ever fuckin' touch ya. I ain't ever sharin' all this beauty."
A blanket of steamy air surrounded you both as the hot warm continued to pour in, locking out the entire world from the inside of the shower so it felt you were a million miles away. To be in such a place, in the throws of passion as Simon declared his claim to you, it was all so overwhelming that your body ached lustfully for release.
Fingernails dug into his back as the last bits of your sanity had you clinging on for dear life, the raw lines across his shoulder blades stinging from the water pouring down the contours of his back. "Goddamn, I just wanna keep my cock buried in you foreva," he hissed at your delicious roughness as your hips rolled over him, the pressure nearly at its peak. You were panting like a bitch in heat and he was doing everything he could to push you over the edge.
Pumping in and out of you with everything he had, his head wandered down the front of your chest as he squat down a little more, his mouth hungrily searching for it's prize. Finally he is able to reach your tit and greedily he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking on the supple flesh as the tip of his tongue rolled around the silk smooth areola.
God your soft breast felt like heaven in between his lips, the damned flesh so juicy. He had to press his body even harder into your own to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it just to keep your tit locked in his mouth.
"Fuck, Simon," you moaned, your fingers running up the back on his neck to his head where you tangled them into his short, wet locks. That mouth was making you vibrate as the sensation of suction sent shocks of pleasure tingling down your spine.
Not one to ever leave any man behind, Simon unlatched from the first breast to give the other the same amount of attention. It was all too much, the pumping between your legs mixed with the tingling sensation at your breasts, and that heated pressure began gathering in the pit of your stomach, about to violently through you off.
Your hips ground more into him, he knows that telltale sign that you are close. Amber eyes met yours again as he moved back up to his full height; he needed to see it, the look in your eyes as you come.
"I know you're close, luv," he says assuredly. "That's it sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my fuckin' cock. Goddammit I need you to come for me...so bad..."
Simon had to have it, you orgasm; he needed to know that your body responded to his in that very precise way that would make sure you'd never stray. He desperately needed to be the one to get you off. And as he staved off his own orgasm, he would.
"Don't stop," you begged as your head fell back against the wall... as if Simon would ever even dream of such a thing.
"Not until your legs are fuckin' quakin', sweetheart."
His thighs were burning with shooting pain as he continued to squat under you, but he didn't stop; it was worthy any amount of discomfort to see you come completely undone.
Your fingers in his hair clenched down, yanking wildly at his hair as with a few more precise thrusts that warmth finally shot through your torso and you rocked forward against with a cry.
"A-ah... f-f-fuck..." you stammered as your orgasm shook through you.
"That's it," Simon coaxed you through it, "ride it all the fuckin' way with me, luv...almost there..."
And not even a few seconds more he followed suit, a gravely roar ripping through his chest as he milked himself completely dry, his body convulsing with the strength of his ejaculation; fuck did you always make him come so hard.
"G-goddamn..." he said through heavy breaths, his soaking head coming to rest with it's forehead against your shoulder.
He did not let you go until you had both calmed, just letting the sound of the running water and your breathing lull you both back down. Picking up his head from your body, he laid a breathless kiss up on your lips, his face resting against your own from sheer exhaustion.
"Told ya you'd fuckin' enjoy it," he said, playful smile plastered to those full lips.
Carefully he set you back on your feet, your legs wobbling tiredly from the exertion. "You could make me enjoy anything," you admitted freely. "We'll have to do it again sometime."
Simon's fingers twirled the loose, wet strands of your hair between them. "You got it wrong, luv, ya see it's you that could make me enjoy any fuckin' thing. My beautiful girl, I'd have a right ol time in hell if you were the one to take me there."
His large hand lingered against your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft, supple skin. "You've got me fuckin' whipped, sweetheart, and I am more than fine to keep it that way."
He held you close, peppering your cheeks with stray kisses as he moved you both back fully under the shower head, ready to clean up the delicious mess he had just made.
7K notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 5 months
Text
rat in a cage.
1.2k, m!ghostface x f!reader | slasher master
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A/N: This is NOT the Every Inch ghostface/universe. This is a completely standalone one shot. SUMMARY: Ghostface is pursuing you. When you both get trapped in a lab on campus, you make a temporary truce. WARNINGS: I8+ Dubcon P in V, cockwarming, degradation, choking, creampie, lab rats in the building, huddling for warmth lmaoo, reader can sit on him and be partially lifted.
Before you realized you were both trapped in the building, you got into a scuffle and caused his knife to fall down a drain in the floor. He got on top of you, pinned you with his weight, and choked you, but it wasn't a choke to kill. His gloved hand was applying just enough pressure in just the right places to feel good. That's when it hit you that he didn't want to kill you. He could've snapped you like a twig from that position if he wanted. You smiled, and he released your throat. “Mm,” you sighed. “take off your mask if ya wanna kiss me that bad.”
Ghostface tilted his head and looked at you. The voice modulator kicked in. “what makes you think I want that filthy mouth on me?” He grabbed your jaw and squeezed your mouth open. He brought his other gloved hand to your lips and gagged you with two gloved fingers.
"I asked you a question," he prodded.
"I 'unno" you mumbled into his fingers and reached for his crotch, trying to wedge your hand between your torsos. His fingers slid out of your mouth and his hand flew to your wrist to stop you. He pinned your hands above your head, one of his gloves wet with your saliva.
“You don't wanna kill me,” you breathed.
You seemed to have him at a loss for words. He was a different guy without his knife -- still menacing, but not lethal.
“Not tonight." He got up and left you on the ground. He swiftly made for the exit, robe trailing behind him.
But the door was locked. Awkward.
Now you've been trapped long enough that he’s run out of clever, taunting things to say, so he just doesn't talk. The main sound is lab rats squeaking and trying to burrow for warmth in their enclosure. It's cold in this building. You don't have sleeves and your legs are bare, too.
Ghostface sits against the wall with his knees up. You're shivering in a corner by yourself, replaying your interactions with Ghostface in your mind. Has he ever really, truly hurt you? He's had chances to kill you. Why didn't he? Your teeth start chattering.
Eventually he sighs and says "Get over here." You look at him, pondering it. He opens his arms and adds, “This offer expires in thirty seconds.”
You scurry over to him, planning to sit between his knees but he straightens his legs out so they're together, and he lifts up his robe for you to get underneath. He's wearing joggers and a matching sweatshirt underneath. You're more scantily clad. "Why don't you just give me the robe," you ask.
"Don't press your luck," he answers.
You duck under his robe and straddle his thighs with your knees on the floor. "You're gonna wanna get closer than that, little rat."
You scoot forward and he lets the robe down on top of you. It's a little heavier and warmer than you imagined. When he's chasing after you, it moves like it weighs nothing.
It's pitch black under his robe. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you into him so your crotch meets his. You gasp when you feel the shape of his warm package against your crotch. "Feel somethin’ ya like?" He asks.
"You're warm," you answer, laying your cheek on his chest with your eyes closed under his robe. "Who are you?"
His laugh is as dark as it is quiet.
You tuck your arms under your chest and he keeps his arms wrapped around you. He smells good. A woodsy, minty scent. He caresses you as he holds you. God, he feels like. . .a man. A real man. His breaths get deeper, his chest rising under you. It happens gradually, but at some point there's no mistaking the bulge you're sitting on is hard, and it's for you. He brings his arms into the robe. His gloved hands pull your skirt up over your ass with a soft grunt not caught by the voice changer. Then he takes his gloves off.
His hands are huge and warm on your bare ass cheeks. He kneads them and his hips lift under you, the swell of his hard cock making you dizzy with need under the pitch black darkness of his robe. You sigh and he wedges a finger under your pointless little thong and snaps it. You reach back to un-wedge it from your ass cheeks and when you pull it out, he slips his finger between your ass and the garment. He slides his finger all the way down, under you, until he reaches your wet little hole. You're beginning to gush.
He sighs, then the voice changer says - "You're making a mess on me, princess."
He lifts you with a grunt, then pulls his joggers down under his cock. He sets you back down, angling you strategically so your front meets his smooth, thick shaft. It's throbbing and burning hot, right between your legs. You sigh. His hands return to your ass and he moves your body, grinding you against his hard cock a few times.
Then, to your horror, you help him take it further. You pull your thong to the side as he lifts you and notches himself at your entrance. You whimper as your cunt swallows his tip, then your body spreads itself apart for him as you sink down his thick shaft. Ghostface shudders and you gasp when your bodies are flush.
“Good,” he whispers in a deep, human voice. Your body accommodates him and you get even wetter. You begin to move, needing to fuck yourself on his cock, but he holds you down and makes you still. “Sit,” he commands at full volume ghostface voice. “Stay.” The hair on your neck stands up.
You sit still on his cock.
“Good,” he says, then adds, "Hmm." He pats your head where it rests on his shoulder.
You sit there in his lap, wrapped around the body of this man, in total darkness under his robe, absolutely full of his cock. You relax enough that you begin to get sleepy. You yawn.
You sit there for what feels like an eternity. You feel stretched out, even after you relax. Your walls occasionally twitch around him, and his cock throbs and moves inside you. You’re cozy under his robe, comfortable in his arms, and throbbing on his cock. The warmth of his robe and the feeling of his arms around you lull you to sleep.
Almost as soon as you drift off, he thrusts his hips up and jolts you awake with the punch of his cock. He braces one hand on the floor and has the other arm around you. He leans back so you're held against his chest and he's fucking up into you. He grunts and sighs and the modulator harshly spits, “yeah, you're a good little bitch.”
He keeps fucking you from the bottom, and you feel a heat bubbling in the pit of your belly as his big cock pistons into you. Then he holds you tight against him and fucks you slower, grinding your pubic bone against his, and it's rubbing your clit and making you spasm. "You like that?" He asks.
“Oh, baby,” he breathes, then his voice is changed again. “Gonna make me cum if you're not careful.”
His words make you clench down as you see stars. You moan into his sweatshirt, and the pleasure pulses from your clit as your whole body jerks and your cunt chokes his cock. You're not finished coming when Ghostface holds you down.
You try to get off him, but he holds you down harder and erupts, filling you with his hot seed. You can't deny how good it feels with him pulsing inside you as your own climax wanes. At least you're alive, you think. At least Plan B exists.
When you begin to get off his cock, he doesn't let you. He keeps you plugged, impaled on him, long enough that you both fall asleep.
----
thank you for reading. my main ghostface series, unrelated to this one shot, is Every Inch.
i have a michael blurb with a kinda similar premise here. idk why i'm into this scenario but i guess i am lol.
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some-bunniii · 17 days
Text
Lucifer dotes on a pregnant!reader
・❥ Congrats, you’re pregnant! It’s not Luci’s, but nobody can tell the difference with how much he adores you and your baby
x: based on @ukor02’s prompt! reader is fem with no use of y/n. enjoy 🤍
~ 27k words!! Ya’ll…. :’)
[read it in chapters on my ao3!]
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“Please, Mr. Demur! Can’t I pay you next week? I’ll have enough by then, I promise.”
“How many ‘next weeks’ are we going to have here, hm? If I don’t start making money on these units, I won’t be able to pay off my own debts. I can’t let you keep living here rent-free!” 
You grimaced as your landlord continued to speak across the line, his voice harsh against your ear as you held the small phone against it. Your nails clicked nervously against the wooden countertop of your kitchen, the sound reverberating around the room, helping to drown out your thoughts.
You had been very behind on monthly dues. Your income wasn’t enough to support all your woes anymore, which meant you were struggling to pay rent and afford groceries. Hell’s inflation was getting pretty crazy, and without a second source of income, you were doomed.
You had a second source of income when your boyfriend lived with you and worked for maintenance at VoxTek. Until you found him rolling under the sheets with your next-door neighbor, one of Valentino’s girls who decided that she’d expand her interests to family men.
He had begged for your forgiveness when you dragged him by the ear towards the front door. ‘I won’t do it again, I promise!’ he had pleaded, moaning for your mercy. Right, like you were going to trust a demon from Lust to stay loyal any longer.
What a fool you were, giving him all those chances. Now, you were taking the hit for everything. Alone. Regret ate at the back of your mind, should you have let him stay? If not for your feelings, at least to have kept a roof over your head for you and…
Your gaze traveled slowly down to the small bump on your abdomen, the unspoken words shouting that you ever had relations with a man. Your unborn baby.
The baby your boyfriend knew about, a week before he brought that woman into your home. Yet, he still shoved you aside for a hotter piece of trash. The nerve.
How were you going to support a whole other helpless, tiny being now? If only you could get some empathy from your landlord, appeal to his second nature…
“I understand your difficulties, trust me, I do! But—”
“If you understand that,” your landlord over the phone finally growled out, “then you’ll understand that I’m giving you three days to pack up all your things, and get out of my unit!”
The line ended, that soft buzzing in your ear the only thing keeping you grounded atop the kitchen stool you were quietly shaking on.
Out? He was evicting you? That wasn’t fair! You’ve lived here for years, and a few late payments are what ends your relationship with the little one-bedroom apartment? Ridiculous! 
What were you going to do now? There was nobody to lean on for help, not anymore. Not after your boyfriend left, and your best friend ran off with some royal shitbag down to the Envy Ring, and who even knows where your parents were these days.
It was just you, and the little bean who’d call you Mama soon enough.
Your hand lowered, thumb grazing soothingly against the small protrusion in your belly. Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and angry as you fumed silently. Was this it? The end of any happiness in your life? Forced to grovel like a dog to some powerful entity, or sign a contract that rips free will from your grasp? 
You shivered at the thought. No. That's not how you were going to go out, not without a fight. Even in a dark and brooding place like Hell, you’d try to live a happy and comfortable life, if not for you, at least for the baby growing in your womb. 
Maybe, when the child is born, you won't feel so lonely anymore. They’d be someone to snuggle with at night, curled up against your chest as the two of you lounged on the sofa. The soft words emanating from the TV across the room like a lullaby to their tiny ears, as they drank in the warmth of your body, drifting into blissful sleep.
You’d lower your nose and breathe in that fresh, sweet baby scent from the top of their head, filling you with another dose of pure love and adoration. That child would be fawned over for, well, forever. Even if you were the only one going to share that love, you could wait for them to grow older and return some of it.
That made you smile, imagining the little pitter-pattering of feet against tile flooring as you baked the toddler delicious treats and cooked delicacies that made their little mouth water. That gleam of awe in their eye as the flavors swirled against their tongue, their brain growing fuzzy with pleasure.
That’s the life you would live, and not some cardboard box in the alleyway begging for scraps.
“Alright, looks like Mama has some work to do,” you spoke softly to the quiet, empty room. You weren’t sure whether the little bean could hear your voice nestled so far in your belly, but at this point, you were willing to chat up thin air if it kept your sanity. 
It wasn’t going to be easy, that was for sure. You needed a stable income, instead of picking up odd jobs popping up on the streets. Then, you needed to find a place to stay, it could be anything, even a barn. As long as it was somewhere with a little room and comfort, it would do for the time being. You’d have to upgrade when the baby was born, though, maybe to a two-bedroom apartment this time.
Quickly, you lifted your phone and typed in the now-familiar phrase ‘Places hiring in Pentagram City’. You scrolled, favoriting every job that offered a decent income and was manageable for you.
Being pregnant was going to make things difficult, seeing as you’d be unable to do many physical tasks sometime down the road in the coming months. Which would give you very few options soon.
Your feet hit the soft carpet of the living room, and you rubbed your eyes sleepily. That nausea that had been plaguing you early in the morning was draining you physically, and the stress that was beginning to build on your shoulders only zapped your mental strength.
A few hours of beauty sleep, and then you’d get your ass to work. 
Your stomach growled, moaning for substance, and you sighed. Okay, a nap and lunch… then, you’d be moving toward financial stability. One step at a time, and now a tiny bean to think about. 
Sooner or later, you’d get there.
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Before eviction day, you had managed to find an open position at a small convenience store in a much quieter part of the city. Residential neighborhoods wrapped around the row of stores inside a quaint, little market at the edge of the city. 
You looked into the large display windows that bordered the front door to the dark purple shop. ‘We’re Hiring!’ in bold lettering on a corner of the glass pane, beneath the rows of chips and other snacks on a tall shelf standing a few feet behind the window. Right beneath that flashy sign, was a smaller piece of paper taped hastily to the glass surface. “Room Available for rent’ was scrawled in unkempt handwriting, and your eyes widened in excitement.
Taking a deep breath, you gripped the cold, metal handle and pulled the door open. The golden bell above your head jingled a faint tune as you stepped through the threshold. Your eyes take in the old, wooden shelves that hung on either side of the room, while shorter displays were lined neatly in rows spanning wall to wall filled with snacks, home essentials, and more.
The place was kind of a mess, but… it felt rather homey. A ‘Mom and Pop’ shop kinda of thing, stirring nostalgic emotions inside of you. When you reached an older demon, her back hunched slightly with age and the weight of the large shell on her back, you realized how your feelings couldn’t get any more accurate. 
Green skin sagged from the elderly woman’s face, deep wrinkles embedded into her reptilian features as she regarded you with suspicion. She resembled pretty closely to a tortoise, with that round, thick shell that lay upon her back and neck that extended high from her body. She held a broom in her long claws, halting mid-sweep as you smiled gently at her. 
“Can I help you?” She croaked.
“I’m here for the job opening, the general worker position?” Your smile widened, trying to look as presentable and friendly as possible. This may not be the job of your dreams, but it was a job nonetheless, a start. 
“You Hellborn?” 
“Yes.” What an odd question.
“You can lift and move large boxes?”
“Sure can!” You replied, with a quick nod. For the next few months, at least. If you couldn’t find a new job by the time your belly was unable to be hidden any longer, you’d spill the beans to granny.
“Hm,” the wrinkled demon eyed you with more interest, and she tilted her head in thought for a few moments, before meeting your gaze again, “I think I can make do with what’s in front of me, for now.”
Not even an interview? What a score!
A sigh of relief escaped you, the invisible weight on your shoulders lightening slightly as you shook hands with the turtle. The job wasn’t going to be that difficult, cashiering, stocking, talking to customers, easy peasy. Until the swollen ankles kicked in.
“Oh, and the room for rent! I’m kinda in need of some living arrangements for now. Do you still have availability?” You clasped your hands, smiling widely once more.
“We have space…” The old, turtle-faced demon sighed, turning her large shell to face you, before ambling away towards a dark hallway behind the small checkout counter. She beckoned you with her thick tail that slowly swayed behind her as she moved.
Slowly, you followed behind the woman, entering what seemed to be the large back room of the store, piles of boxes labeled as different foodstuffs, with thick, heavy bags of an assortment of goods. There looked to be a large freezer on one wall, as it blew cold air that seeped into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you crossed the room. 
The turtle demon stopped at a light-brown wooden door, before softly turning the handle and pulling it open. She leaned through the doorway as far as her wide shell would allow and tugged on a thin string hanging from the ceiling. With a click, the small bulb above your head flickered on, illuminating what seemed like a large, dusty storage closet. You gulped, this was tiny! It was the size of a small bedroom, but was supposed to be your entire living unit? You pointed into the lit room, quirking a brow in disbelief.
“Is this…?”
“The room available, yes.”
“It’s kind of… small.”
“Well, what did ya expect, a two-bedroom with a loft? It’s less than a hundred for a reason. The bathroom is next door, so it's a quick walk. We’ve got a hose in the back you can use to shower, and you got a place to buy most of your essentials just a hallway over.”
You thought for a few moments, rubbing your hands together as your mind raced with what other options you currently had. None, really. Anywhere else you had gone to seek employment had already found someone or deemed you unqualified for the position. Let's see… the alleyway or a closet? Hard choice.
“Also, utilities are included in the rent.” 
Well, that was a good bargain.
“Okay, sure” you nodded slowly, rubbing your face with a sigh, “This’ll work.”
“Good. We’ll just take rent out of your paycheck, then. The name is Alma, let me show you around.” 
You had followed her back out to the front of the store, before being walked through the job and every detail your new boss, Alma, found necessary to fill you in on. How to work the old cash register, keys for every door inside the building, where the gun was hidden underneath the counter in case anyone was to rob the store and use it for defense.
When you returned home later that day, your back hit the door and you slid to the ground with a sigh. Your stomach rumbled, and you tenderly rubbed a hand across the protrusion underneath your skin. Rising to your feet, you headed to the kitchen, digging through all the junk for any healthier options you had. There wasn’t much, but you settled on a small microwave meal and placed it into the little appliance.
As the microwave buzzed softly, it filled your head with background noise to your quiet thoughts. Thoughts about your future, your chances at success, your baby, or your loneliness navigating such a turbulent time in your life.
Hopefully, once you had a good night’s sleep and packed up in the morning, the doubts about your decision that were eating at your conscience would fade. Everything was going to be very different from here on out, but maybe, that wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Looks like we have our work cut out for us,” you whispered into the empty room once more.
It had been a few months since you arrived at that quaint, little shop looking for a job and a place to stay. After a few months, your stomach only continued to grow. 
You had hidden the sight through baggy clothes at first, careful to keep your secret hidden from prying eyes. Until running to the bathroom all the time and your sudden bouts of exhaustion made you reveal the fact to Alma.
She had rolled her eyes, before grumbling how ‘as long as you’re still able to work’ there wouldn’t be any problems regarding your employment. 
There wasn’t much you brought over from your apartment, not even your bed could fit comfortably inside the little room. Instead, you resorted to a one-person mat that only lifted you from the floor a couple of inches. At first, it sucked, really, really sucked. Soon enough, you adjusted to the tension in your back that always woke you just in time for work.
You had brought a few trinkets with you, memories from your past, and small items to keep you busy. You brought that little microwave from your place, which was situated on a small coffee table on the wall across from your bed.
There was nothing for the baby, yet. You didn’t have anything to begin with, nor did you have the money to afford such things. Later, when the little bean was closer to arrival, you’d start hunting through garage sales and thrift stores. The only thing keeping you educated on your pregnancy was the few books detailing motherhood that were on sale at one of the local vendors. 
Standing atop your microwave, was a small flatscreen TV, your only source of entertainment nowadays. Sure, you touch grass once in a while, exploring the market, brisk walks around the block, that sort of thing. Getting a workout made you hungry, though, and with your tiny paycheck? Three meals a day was a luxury you couldn’t afford.
The problem? You were always craving something to eat. Sweet treats, odd vegetables, food you used to hate. Once, you even drooled over a slab of raw meat you were packing away into a freezer, the thought of ripping it apart and devouring it right then and there itching at your scalp. 
Instead, you opted for a large salad. While you made sure to eat enough to feed your baby, the quality of the food you were consuming wasn’t the greatest. Hopefully, you'll be able to afford healthier meals soon.
The work in the store was mundane, the customers lively but nothing worthwhile, and life was pretty stagnant after a few months of living there. Except for the changes in your body, those new aches and sores, the sudden dizziness that caused you to plop down upon the nearest surface.
It was one of these times when you felt your face numbing and your vision beginning to blur, and you fell upon an unopened box of goods. Hand lifting to wipe that dribble of sweat away, you took a deep breath. It was getting harder to do that, though, with how the baby in your womb was beginning to steal the space your lungs needed to expand.
It was a much hotter afternoon, the air simmered with acrid, dry heat that suffocated the store with its intensity. It was a weather normal pattern, but one you loathed nonetheless. A fan close to you finally swiveled in your direction, and you let the cool air smack you in the face with its soothing touch. 
Alma wasn’t around, which meant she wasn’t able to catch you on another one of your on-the-clock breaks. Standing on your feet, lifting boxes and other items all shifts was not fun with a baby rolling around somewhere in your guts.
You were enjoying the momentary peace, eyes shut as you inhaled another large breath. The small TV hanging from the corner of the room, right behind the cashier register hummed softly as the news anchors yapped quietly about something or other.
When you opened your eyes, the congregation of large shadows at the front door caught your attention. Quickly, you rose from the cardboard box, fiddling with another small pile as you took a knife and tore it open. Bags of chips nestled together, your stomach grumbled softly at the multiple flavors it hosted.
You did your best to look busy, just as the door opened with a creak and the bell above its frame jingled excitingly about the fresh, new faces. 
“I can't believe you made us take a walk in this weather, Charlie,” a feminine voice moaned as they crossed through the threshold. Their tall figure rose above the rows of shelves, pink fuzz popping from their partially exposed chest as they strode in. Both sets of arms were crossed, as they turned to meet the gaze of a woman with a bright red tuxedo.
Beside her was a shorter, gray-skinned woman who immediately placed herself in the direction of a whirring fan. One good eye scanned across the room, looking for nothing in particular.
A tall snake demon slithered in behind them, huffing as he collapsed onto a small bench next to the doorway. The hoods framing his face began to fan his heated skin, recuperating for a few moments.
“I agree with—huff—Angel Dusssssst,” The man hissed tiredly, swiping a claw over his brow to dry his forehead, “It sssseeems we have chosen a poor day to—huff—embark on our little excursion.”
“It is pretty hot today, but! That means we all sweat a little more, and burn off some of that negative energy!” The woman, Charlie, exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, “Clear our minds of all that clutter and embrace the heat of a new day!” 
Angel Dust rolled his eyes, grumbling something as he turned to a display of sunglasses, plucking out different pairs from the stand and fiddling with them on his face as he posed in the tiny mirror.
“Husk’a! Don’t I look fantabulous or what?” He turned towards a short, feline demon with quirked brows. He sent Husk a playful, sultry smirk which the feline only growled softly at, before reaching into a fridge for a large bottle of water.
“Ya look like shit,” he grumbled, popping the cap off and chugging down the drink in one go. It seemed like the guy did that often enough for the contents to disappear so quickly, which was pretty impressive. Hopefully, he was going to pay for that drink too.
“Awww, thanks kitty!” 
The demons dispersed from their little group, scanning the shelves for any snack that would satisfy their hunger after that draining exercise. 
You watched through careful glances as they wandered about. There was no doubt the group of demons had noticed you by now, but there was nothing special to see as you just continued hefting boxes across the room. The last one, a large crate of soda cans, was giving you a rough time.
Strength waning, you huffed as you slowly walked towards the wall of fridges. Straining as you try to shift your grip, your arm placement is awkward with your round stomach making it difficult to get good positioning on the container. Panic seized you for a moment, as you fumbled with your hold.
“Let me help you with that!” A cheery voice exclaimed from beside you, causing you to jump right as the crate was lifted from your grip into the arms of the apple-cheeked woman. 
Charlie smiled brightly at you before she turned away, setting the crate down gently next to the fridge door. You fanned yourself, taking in a deep breath as the woman turned back to face you.
“I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically, reaching up instinctively to brush a thumb gently over your bump, “heat and exhaustion are just not a healthy mix.” 
“That’s okay, it wasn’t a problem! And—oh my,” the demon’s eyes gleamed at your swollen stomach, her gaze soft, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but are you…?”
“Pregnant?” You tilted your head, smiling softly as a hand instinctively reached up to caress, “I am, yes.”
“Awe, I love babies!” Charlie swooned, placing a hand over her heart. “How far along are you?”
“About four months! I just moved here recently, are you from around here?”
“Yep! Just around the corner practically, right up the hill there’s that big hotel? I run it! It’s called the Hazbin Hotel!”
The Hazbin Hotel? Why did that name sound so familiar?
“And, these are all residents at the hotel!” Charlie smiled gleefully, sweeping a hand across the room as she gestured at her band of demons, “Some of them work for me, and some of them are my clients! The pink one is Angel Dust, the snake is Sir. Pentious, the grumpy fella over there is Husker, and the lady over there is Vaggie, my girlfriend!” 
Your head spun with the quick introductions, but you only listened thoughtfully as she spoke a few more words about her job. 
“That’s very interesting,” you finally said after she finished her sentence, “I’ll have to look it up sometime, I’m sure you're doing a great job. Hopefully, everything has been going well for you so far.” 
“I hope the same for you, too,” she smiled, eyes flicking down to your stomach for a moment before her head swiveled to get a look around the room, “…you don’t happen to have a bathroom here, do you?”
“We do! It’s in the back, I can take you there,” you smiled softly, before turning towards the back door and crossing the room. Charlie’s heels clicked against the old, cracking concrete behind you, as the two of you entered the back room. It was filled with boxes and other goods, and Charlie’s gaze bounced across the new scene with interest. 
The dimly lit room sent shadows across the two doors on the far end, and your hand slid across the wall close to you to find the switch. The lights flickered on, revealing the matching doors standing side by side, and you turned towards the demon woman.
“It’s right over there,” you gestured toward the doors, backing up slightly as Charlie nodded. She made her way towards the bathroom, hand raising to grasp around the doorknob, before twisting it firmly. 
Your breath hitched in realization right as she pulled the door open. That was the wrong door, that was your door! There was no telling how the woman would judge you after seeing the pitiful place you called home.
“Wait! That’s my—!”
“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed as she took in the makeshift living quarters, illuminated softly by the bulb above her head.
Her gaze flicked to the sunken mattress, lying against the hard cement floor. The small TV stacked on that aging microwave, and the piles of books created a makeshift nightstand, with a little reading lamp and retro alarm clock. The mini fridge hummed softly against another wall, hardly big enough to fit a few day's worth of meals in it.
Charlie’s eyes rested on the stacks of labeled boxes nestled tightly against the wall for maximum space, the only remnants of your old life. Her heart beat rapidly, as she took in the flood of information she was gathering about your situation as she stared silently. 
You only watched her expression with weary eyes, rubbing your hands soothingly as you waited for her words. Slowly, Charlie turned towards you, her gaze meeting yours and she read your expression carefully.
“You don’t actually live here, right?” She laughed in disbelief before her smile quickly faded when your face showed no signs of humor. 
“This is terrible! Especially with someone in your condition!” 
Condition? You weren’t helpless just because you were carrying some extra cargo around for a few more months.
“Don’t worry about me, It’s not that bad it’s just—”
You were cut off by the sound of your stomach growling, so loud it practically reverberated around the room. The pitiful noises were followed by slight pain, a sign of how dreadfully empty your tummy was. The noises of hunger made Charlie’s eyes widen and her brows furrow deeper.
“Are you hungry?” She asked slowly.
“Yes,” you stated bluntly, your tongue subconsciously wetting your parched lips. God, you were so hungry. All. the. time. 
It was miserable, having to limit yourself on all the mouth-watering goodies surrounding you. You just wanted to stuff your face, fill up your stomach, and then some. 
“Have you eaten anything today?” Charlie questioned, crossing her arms and shooting you a look of concern.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I get my paycheck tomorrow,” you answered quietly, averting the woman’s gaze as you gnawed at your lip. Embarrassment was bubbling in your chest, and tears were threatening to spill against you will.
You’ve never felt this… open with someone before, not in a long while. You were struggling direly, and now Charlie knew it too. And, revealing your financial situation to a customer you’ve just met? Alma would have your head! What were you thinking? 
Maybe, it was a subconscious cry for help. For some empathetic, kind soul to come swoop you off your feet into prosperity. 
But, you were in Hell, who would do something so selfless like that, for nobody like you?
Charlie bit her lip, breath quickening as her gaze darted from you to the thin mattress on the floor. She seemed antsy, like there were words behind her lips the woman was desperate to spill. Instead, Charlie only gulped them down, before her composure straightened and she sent you an awkward smile.
“Will you excuse me for just a second? I have to uhm, go talk to my girlfriend…” Charlie chuckled nervously, slowly backing away towards the front of the store, “I’ll be right back, don’t move!” 
You nodded obediently to the stern finger she waggled at you, before she pivoted and dashed towards the door at the end of the hall. Charlie wrapped a hand around an ash-gray arm, Vaggie jumped at her touch before she was dragged out of sight. The sounds of fast, hushed voices echoed to your spot in the dark.
Straining your ears, you tried to peep in on their conversation. With the way Charlie scrambled out of there, you were nervous about what exactly the two could be discussing around the corner. 
“We can’t just leave her here, Vaggie!” Charlie shook her head sternly, crossing her arms as she spoke to her partner. 
“Well, we can’t just take her back to the hotel. We don’t know the woman!”
“She’s pregnant with barely any food, and a terrible place to sleep! We can’t just do nothing!” The apple-cheeked woman growled, throwing her hands up as she paced in place near the freezers. The others on the other side of the room were too busy arguing over which flavor of ice cream was better to stop and listen in on the duo’s conversation. 
“I know,” Vaggie sighed, her brows creasing in frustration as she rubbed a hand down her face, mind racing, “I just don’t want to do anything that could put a wrench in your dreams, that’s all. We don’t know anything about her, she could bring trouble to our doorstep. There's enough of that as it is..”
“Nothing will happen, I promise,” Charlie replied softly, lacing her fingers with Vaggie, before soothingly brushing a thumb over her partner's knuckles, “We’ll just say she’s on… maternity leave! That way, she can have the baby stress-free, and then find a job either at the hotel or somewhere else. And, if any problems arise, we have Alastor to handle it.”
“Okay,” Vaggie nodded slowly, “If you think this won’t be an issue… then, I trust you, babe.” 
“Thank you, Vaggie.” Charlie smiled softly, “I haven’t told her yet. I just wanted to run it by you first, and figure out how to ask a stranger to, well, move in with strangers.”
You backed out of earshot, having gotten enough of the two’s words for your breath to quicken and your thoughts to spiral. Turning, you faced into your room, staring into space as you chewed absently on your lip.
They want to give you a place to stay, for free? No questions asked, just out of the kindness of their hearts?
You shook your head, a dry laugh of disbelief escaping your lips. That was impossible! This was Hell, and things like that never happened. You were born in Hell, and have practically seen it all when it comes to 
Murdering, whoring, and overdosing. That was Hell’s usual. Who was this woman, and what could she possibly have in store for you?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the soft clicking of heels reverberate around the dimly lit room. You pivoted sharply, smiling innocently as your gaze met Charlie’s excited expression. She bit her lip nervously, before straightening her posture and clasping her hands together. 
“I know we only just met, but I would really love to offer you a place to stay. Something better than this, at least. We have large rooms with their own bathroom and little dining areas. It’ll be free! Plus, lounges, a kitchen, and a bar. Although, I’m sure you won’t be needing that anytime soon.” Charlie chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck and she watched you intently. 
“Why would you do something like this for me?” You asked slowly, tilting your head as your fingers thrummed against your bump thoughtfully.
“Because when I see my people struggling, I don’t just stand by and let them. It’s my duty to help those in need.” Charlie placed a fist into her open palm, determination in her gaze and she spoke assertively.
‘My people’? ‘Duty’? What could she possibly mean about that? Such strange words coming from an even stranger woman before you, so desperate to hear your approval.
“I can definitely think about it…” you finally said softly, meeting her gaze after a moment.
“That’s a start! Here, take this, it’s my business card.” The woman patted down her pockets, before pulling out a small card from her pants, thrusting it excitedly towards you.
“I made them myself!” Charlie whispered, her eyes gleaming with pride as you stared down at the little writings across its surface. 
“I can call you tomorrow, with my answer,” you replied finally, slipping the card away for later. 
“Great! Thank you so much for considering! It’ll be worth it, I promise!”
A shadow loomed across the room, as Angel Dust poked his head into the doorway. He squinted into the darkness, before quirking a brow at Charlie’s figure.
“Ya comin’, toots? I’m hungry, and I deserve some R&R back at the hotel. ASAP.”
“Coming!” Charlie called, beginning to cross the room. She turned to face you, curving her lips into another bright smile as you stood there motionless. You didn’t say another word as she was consumed by the bright lights of the store, and you stayed frozen in place for a few more moments.
Your head spun, Charlie’s words still consuming your thoughts as you chewed at your lip. Just as you were about to head back to the waiting group, you heard grumbling from behind you, and the door to the back alleyway opened wide.
Alma ambled inside, returning from a friend’s business a few stores over. A large bag in her claws as she lumbered towards you, 
“I smell customers, are they Sinners? Ugh. Here, take this and put it in the freezer right away. I’ll go up front and get them out of here.” 
“Of course,” you replied, hardly listening while still untangling your racing thoughts. The box was changed to your arms, and you took it with a huff before lowering it gently next to the freezer.
You watched Alma enter the front of the store, chattering loudly to the group of demons you had acquainted yourself with as you pried open the box. Slabs of fresh meat were revealed underneath the thin, soaked red parchment shielding them. You wet your lips subconsciously, that ache in your stomach returning as you inhaled the flavorful, wafting scents.
Hopefully, you’d start craving something much more tasteful like ice cream or peanut butter.
Taking time to pack away the stacks of goods only kept your mind busy from Charlie’s offer. You still felt uneasy with her proposal, for all you knew, it could be a trick or some way to wrap you into a deal. There was no way someone like her existed in someplace like Hell.
That doubt still crept up your spine as you stood at the gates of her aging little hotel the next day, nestled on top of a small hill on the outskirts of the bustling city. Charlie’s handmade business card was clenched tightly in your hand, as your eyes read the address one last time before taking a deep, reassuring breath.
The hotel didn’t look too bad, in your opinion. An honest fixer-upper that would look really beautiful if done correctly. The colors were a little odd, not to mention the structure of the building was weird. Jagged even, as different parts jutted out from the center, your eyes traced the outline of what seemed to be… a boat? One that was nestled tightly against the outer walls of the hotel. The building seemed refined, like the owner before the apple-cheeked woman had good taste. Overall, if you did choose to stay here, it wouldn't be too bad of a place.
Except… why did it have to be on top of a hill?! Just the sight of the trek you were going to have to endure made your ankles start to ache, and you groaned, head thrown up in the air as your feet dragged up the cracked concrete path. 
‘Did these guys ever think of investing in a ramp?’ you groaned internally, wiping sweat from your brow as you continued the strenuous hike. If this were the kind of difficulties you were going to face throughout your pregnancy, you would have taken more laps around the block in preparation for this moment.
Sputtering for breath, and only halfway up, you rested for a moment with a huff. How many steps have you taken? To keep your shame, you refrained from counting as you continued the climb. Another two months, and this would be impossible, which made you deflate even more. 
You hated feeling so… helpless, useless, weak. People looked at you differently, as if you were the child, incapable of being able to support your own weight. Which was another reason you were resistant to the idea of moving here, you didn’t want to feel like a charity case–or a burden–to Charlie and her friends. Hopefully, you’d prove to them today there was more to you than the baby in your womb.
The final step up to the front doors was a hefty one, and you fought the urge to roll over in defeat on their doormat. You shot the cement path the finger, before turning towards the large oak doors. You squinted, trying to get a peek through the stained glass windows as you leaned in slightly.
‘Stop being so creepy and knock,’ you growled at yourself, before lifting a closed fist and rapping it against the sturdy, wood frame of the entryway.
Knock Knock
No response, but you waited patiently with clasped hands and a bright smile ready to go.
Knock Knock
You thought you heard shuffling behind the door, but still no response. You rolled your eyes in irritation, crossing your arms. It was getting hot out here and you needed somewhere to sit down. What kind of a hotel doesn’t greet their gues–
The large door opened slowly with a loud creak, revealing a tall, red demon. He was dressed rather formally, with a nice red tuxedo that hugged his figure perfectly. Large ears sat above his head, small antlers poking from bright red hair that framed his face. His lips were curved into a wide, toothy grin that made the hair at the back of your neck stand on end as you met his ruby-like eyes. They stared intensely into your gaze, as if reading every thought behind those wide eyes, partially shaded by that equally red monocle resting atop his cheek.
What was up with this guy and the color red?
“Can I help you?” He finally asked sweetly, static dripping from his voice, paired with a strange overlay that seemed to pour from his tongue as you watched him speak. It sounded as if he was speaking right through an aging microphone. With the door only partially cracked, you didn’t see much behind that large, charming smile of his.
“Hello, uhm, good sir! I’m looking for Charlie? She and I talked yesterday and–”
“Ohmygoshitsyoucomein!!” The words rolled off Charlie’s tongue just as she popped up right beside the smiling demon. She wrapped her hands around your forearms and pulled you through the threshold with a squeal. A gasp left your lips as you were dragged gleefully inside, and the door shut softly behind you.
For the next few hours, Charlie gave you a tour of the hotel while sharing her visions for the future. Dreams of happy days in Hell, and a second chance for the sinful. Sinners being redeemed and going to Heaven? Was that even possible? You didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter if they could, seeing as you weren’t one of them. 
You got better introductions to the residents, including new faces. Alastor, the demon from the front door, who welcomed you with that exotic voice and a humble demeanor that made you feel somewhat at ease. His voice seemed familiar though, reminiscent of horrible, violent rumors of a powerful demon on the prowl. One that scooped up Overlords and sent them to their doom. 
Why were people afraid of you being dangerous, when demons like Alastor resided under the same roof? He may have not looked at you with that same hunger he showed his enemies, but he still could send you six feet under in an instant. Which made your unease grow a little more, as you thought about the safety of your child.
Then, there was Niffty, the freaky little cleaning lady who had a constant itch to stab things. When she saw your baby bump, she lit up, rushing towards you with a skip in her step. You froze, watching the tiny woman approach you with a bashful grin.
“Can I touch the baby?” She sent you a puppy-dog stare through one large, glittering eye. Her arms were behind her back as she twirled innocently, a small, toothy smile on her lips.
“Oh, well, I don’t really mind,” you said softly, lowering yourself slightly so she could reach a hand up and place a warm palm on the fabric lying against your abdomen. She giggled softly as she rubbed your stomach tenderly for a few moments, as if she was petting your child directly through her soft touches.
“Do you have a name for it?” Nifty asked, lowering her arm back to her side.
“Not yet, but I’ll figure it out,” you had said, before turning your attention back to Charlie. Finally, the last stop of your little tour was getting a peek at one of the rooms you’d be staying in. Crossing a single hallway, the two of you stood in front of a dark, wooden door. With a twist of the handle, the apple-cheeked woman pushed open the door, and your breath stilled as you leaned through the threshold.
It was a rather large room, fully furnished to replicate a master bedroom. A bed, two dressers, a large wardrobe, even a small dining table with matching chairs on the other side of the room. You stepped into a white-tiled bathroom, taking in the large maroon bathtub and matching colored sinks. Everything looked clean, and honestly, the rooms didn't match the exterior of the hotel. There wasn’t much to complain about, other than some aging upholstery and building cobwebs.
You stepped back into the large bedroom, Charlie following your figure with a hitched breath as you circled the room again, inspecting it closely. You halted, silent for a few moments, before you pivoted to face the demon woman. 
“So, this is free? No strings attached?”
“Yep!” Charlie beamed.
“No secret legally binding agreement that I’m about to shake on?”
“Of course not!” 
“Well…” you started, brows furrowing in thought as you looked around the room. Charlie stared at you with apprehensive eyes, unable to read your expression as you considered your options, “I’d have to find a place closer to work, or figure out transportation from Alma’s”
“Work?” Charlie inquired.
“How else am I supposed to afford food and other necessities? I can’t just sit around all day waiting to pop!” You raised an eyebrow at the woman, 
“The point is you’re supposed to take it nice and easy until you’ve had your baby! Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of food to go around. Plus, I’m sure we can find a place to buy some baby essentials, like diapers and a crib. Whatever you want!” Charlie argued, that smile never faltering as she tried to win you over with charm.
“You’re just going to spend money like that on me?”
“That’s right! Like I’ve said, I’m willing to do anything to support my people.”
“But… how can you afford that? Who are you?”
“I guess I haven’t told you, huh?” Charlie laughed nervously, before rubbing her neck with a sigh, “I’m not a big fan of telling people right off the bat, but my full name is Charlie Morningstar.” 
Morningstar? As in the royal family? Charlie was the daughter of the king of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar? Oh dear. This was a joke, right?
You felt your heart beat rapidly, and you placed a hand on your chest to calm its racing pace. The Princess of Hell was standing right in front of you like she was any normal demon, which was crazy. The fact you were standing in front
“Your Majesty!” You lowered your head quickly, averting your gaze respectfully.
“Please don’t!” Charlie shook her head, walking up to you, “I don’t want you to regard me any differently just because I'm royal and all. I just want to help you.”
Slowly, she lifted a hand, lacing her fingers gently with yours as she stared at you with pleading eyes. You could feel the truth in her words practically radiating from her as she waited for your answer, her tone the complete opposite of manipulative, and you bit your lip in thought.
‘Please, live here,’ you read through her glistening gaze.
“Okay,” you finally said softly, a smile slowly creeping onto your lips as you looked up at her.
“Really?” Charlie asked, her eyes lighting up as you nodded in response, and she bounced giddily in place, “This is great! I can’t wait to tell everyone! Oh, I am so happy you said yes. We’ll need a day to prepare, but you probably need a day to pack anyway. Oh! I almost forgot…”
Charlie filled your head with more chatter about what was in store now that you were studying, and you listened intently as the two of you strolled down the hallway back into the lobby. By the time you made it to the front door, your feet were sore from all the walking, and your eyes were tired and droopy as you munched on a sandwich Sir. Pentious had kindly made for you as you left the hotel. 
When you passed through the open front doors, you turned back to Charlie, and a few other demons behind her. 
“Thank you for being so kind to open up your home to me,” you said softly to the small group, “I’ll be back tomorrow with my things. Have a good day!”
“Bye!”
“See ya, momma!”
“Ssssstay hydrated!”
By the time you walked the block and a half to the dark purple store on the corner, the air had cooled considerably, and the walk wasn’t so bad this time. The fans were silent, hibernating for their next use as you walked across the cracked tile of the shop, your boss fussing with change behind the checkout counter as you approached.
“Leaving?” Alma had asked slowly when you finally dared to inform her of your decision. The demon was mid-count of the register, her long neck lifting so she could meet your gaze with a curious expression.
“Yes, someone offered me a place to stay until I have the baby,” you nodded, rubbing your arm soothingly as you spoke, watching her expression carefully, “I believe it would be in my best interest to take that opportunity. I’m sorry for the short notice, so you can keep my paycheck if you want. I’ll be out of here by tomorrow, probably.”
Alma squinted at you, deep in thought as one claw tapped absentmindedly against the cracked, wooden countertop. The turtle demon grunted, before lowering herself to reach underneath the register, pulling out a long piece of paper and setting it onto the counter. 
Dipping a claw in ink, Alma scribbled some numbers onto the paper, before signing her name below. Carefully, she lifted the parchment towards you, quirking a scaly brow at your hesitation. Extending a hand, you took the paper from her hold and turned it over. It was a check, with the remainder of your pay. Eyes widening, your head lifts to meet the old demon’s calm gaze.
“Take care of yourself, then,” Alma croaked, nodding her head slightly at you as she continued to count the cash register. A smile bloomed across your lips, and you quietly turned towards your room, excitement to be out of that cramped little room making you move a little faster as you began to pack your things.
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“Alright, everyone. My dad is going to be here in… one hour.” Charlie smiled awkwardly, eye twitching slightly as her disheveled figure addressed the small group of demons inside the lobby of the hotel.
You sat on the couch, munching on a morning snack as she spoke. The small bowl filled with goodies rested atop your swollen belly, now larger since you moved in a while ago. Apart from the sudden dizziness and aching back, some good things came with being pregnant, like your personal little dining table in the shape of a watermelon. 
Sometimes, you’d practice balancing different items atop the growing swell. Cups, books, anything that gave you some entertainment now that were limited in physical activities–mostly declared by Charlie, but you didn’t complain too much–and stuck inside most days. To an outsider, what you were doing may have seemed weird or strange. But, seeing as they weren’t the ones lugging around a whole nother being, no one had room to talk about what you did for amusement.
Once, you even let Niffty build Jenga on top of your bump, as you lay comfortably out on the sofa in the lobby. The little structure tipped slightly on the unlevel surface, and you did your best to control your breathing to keep it from toppling over as she gingerly placed each rectangular block. Angel Dust had walked into the lobby, adorned in revealing clothes and cat-eye sunglasses. His features were exhausted and drained as he halted in his tracks at the sight.
“What are you two doin’?” He slowly asked, lifting the shades from his face as he watched with a perplexed expression.
“Angel~,” you called, lifting your head with a smile to meet his gaze, “Fancy playing a little bit of risky Jenga? We were just about to start.”
The spider demon seemed to want to reject the offer, before his eyes flitted across the empty room–save for the familiar bartender cleaning glasses–to the clock. It was about eight o'clock at night, a Friday, and the pornstar was trying to find any possible reason to stay inside tonight. For once, Angel Dust was party-pooped.
“Huska’, pour me a tall one, won’tcha? I gotta get in my zone,” He had called towards the bar, his golden tooth glinting as he shot you a sly, toothy grin. 
The next rounds encompassed you trying desperately not to laugh at the sensations of the game. After each block was expelled, it tumbled down your tummy and tickled at your skin. You clasped a hand over your mouth, holding in your laugh as your stomach twitched, and the small structure began to teeter.
“Hey! Watch it, mama,” Angel laughed, grimacing slightly as the Jenga tower jiggled again, “I’m about to win!”
Niffty giggled beside him as you kept your mouth covered, unable to say a word with the fear that your laughter would bubble up past your lips given the chance. You stilled yourself and regained composure, the blocks settled back into place.
“What if…” Niffty said, a mischievous grin on her face as she lifted a claw towards you. Your eyes followed her finger right as it reached your abdomen, and you tensed, trying to prepare for the inevitable.
“Niff!” Angel gasped with a glare, right as the small white finger poked you in the side. Even with her claw, the touch was like a feather against your skin and you had no control as you reacted to the ticklish feeling. 
“Nif—HA!” You had blurted with a snort, your body pitching forward slightly at the sensation. Your lips quivered into a clasped smile just as the blocks tumbled over, losing their balance on top of your bump. They slid across the floor, and you sat up quickly.
“That’s it, missy!” Angel Dust rose to his full height, pointing an accusatory finger at Niffty’s innocent expression, “You sabotaged me on purpose! You did this at UNO last night, and I won’t have it no longer!” 
Pivoting abruptly on his heels, Angel adjusted his tight outfit and pulled back his hair, before he turned his head towards the two of you.
“Goodnight, ladies! This star needs his beauty sleep!” He waved as he strutted away, leaving Niffty to clean up the mess and you to return Angel’s empty drink to the bar. 
That day had tested your limits on how useful the bun in your oven was as a food rest, and you stuck to small items after that. Such as the bowl in front of you that you were tiredly nibbling on as you watched Charlie pace in place, anxiety obvious on her features as she muttered to herself.
The others around you tensed, before they dashed off in different directions, breathing heavily as if whatever was to be done was extremely important. You turned your head, watching them flee in confusion. 
Then, Charlie’s words finally computed in your head, the morning brain fog waning as you slowly sat up. Blinking, you rubbed a hand down your face, rubbing the sleepiness from your features as you processed the information. 
Charlie’s father, Lucifer Morningstar, was coming to the hotel? In one hour? 
The king of Hell, the most powerful man in the realm. Whose face had long since disappeared from the public eye, when before it adorned every magazine and cover photo that one could buy. 
What was he to think of you, a nobody with a boring story and a baby on the way? 
You felt a slight nudge inside your stomach, your child softly prodding your side, maybe in an attempt to get you moving as you shot up from the couch. 
“Your dad is coming here right now?” You asked approaching Charlie, and she stopped in her tracks to face you. 
“Yes,” she nodded, biting her lip, “I haven’t seen him in years, and his opinion of the hotel isn’t the most optimistic.” 
It seemed like it was difficult for Charlie to speak about her father, as if her—as husk had put it—‘daddy issues’ made the topic of her familial relationships sour on her tongue. 
“He’s just going to come and visit? That doesn’t seem too bad, I’m sure the place will grow on him after a quick tour.” 
“He’s my only ticket to Heaven,” Charlie sighed, using a hand to rake her unkempt hair back, “Everything has to be perfect. We just need to clean a little, put some balloons up, 
“What does your dad like to eat?” You said after a few moments. 
“What?” Charlie stared at you with perplexity, tilting her head slightly with a quirked brow.
“Well, as you know I’ve been practicing in the kitchen a lot, learning to bake and all that, and I believe it would be a nice idea if we made something your dad enjoys. That way, he feels welcome and less apprehensive.”
That was true, you had started working in the kitchen daily ever since you moved to the hotel. With Charlie being so kind and offering for you to live there for free until your baby was born, and the fact your large bump made it difficult to do many physical activities, you decided to stick to something more hands-on and less strenuous. 
Surprisingly, it was actually quite fun. Most days, you’d flip through pages of recipes from a cookbook Alastor had loaned to you, looking for that one treat that made your mouth water and the little bean inside of you flip around in excitement. The kitchen inside the hotel was actually quite large, with multiple fridges and ovens with wide counters that wrapped around the room. 
You’d gather all the different ingredients, following the directions closely as you worked. Sometimes, your feet would be so sore you’d pull up a chair and listen to some music while you quietly cut cookies into various cute little shapes, before decorating them and handing them out to all the residents inside the large building. 
Except Alastor, who claimed to hate anything sweet when you stood before him in the lobby one afternoon.
“Thank you for the kind gift, my dear, but I seem to have been born without that fabled sweet tooth. Chocolates are not my cup of tea.” The charming demon had told you, politely waving off your outreached hand as you held a small brownie with a frown.
“So… what do you like?” Your arm lowered, and you stared at the brownie for a moment. The thought of putting it in your mouth instead was very tempting.
“Have you ever tried Jambalaya?” 
“I don’t think so,” you shook your head.
“Hm. Well, perhaps you can add that to your list of recipes to try? With all that work you’ve been putting into cooking, I'm sure it’ll be no difficulty for you to concoct.” Alastor had tilted his head thoughtfully at you, hand resting leisurely against his cane as he leaned against the bar’s counter.
You had sent him a warm smile, slightly surprised by his good words. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to give others praise over himself unless it benefited him. 
Conquering the kitchen was a little more difficult than you previously imagined, and the two charred ovens on the other side of the room were a testament to that. 
At first, the confidence in your work was pretty poor. Whenever Niffty or Charlie would ask what you were making, you’d simply smile bashfully and quietly state you were making treats. One time, you let Sir. Pentious take a bite out of your chocolate cheesecake, which ended in the snake demon lying splayed out on the floor from a sugar crash after he devoured the entire pan of it. 
Needless to say, after most of your new friends begged for more delicacies from your hand, you let your ego swell a bit at all the praise. Now, the Egg Bois were deemed your official taste testers and would huddle around your area as you let them lick the extra dough from your used bowl. 
“More!” They’d cry happily, indicating another successful batch of sugar cookies. 
Now, you hoped your skills had improved enough to sweep the king of Hell off his feet. 
“What does my dad like…” Charlie said after a moment, pulling you back to reality as she squinted her gaze, rubbing her chin in thought. 
You stood there silently, waiting for a response. For some reason, Charlie was having trouble recalling anything of value at first, muttering this and that. Does she really not know what kind of things her own father liked? How long has it been exactly since they had a proper conversation?
“Apples!” Charlie finally proclaimed, nodding at herself in approval, “My dad loves apples, can’t get enough of them, it’s even on the royal seal.” 
Apples, the only earthly fruit to find itself all the way down in the pits of Hell. Even the harmless produce got the heavenly treatment by the big guys upstairs, and would never be allowed through the pearly gates since The Fall. 
Being born in Hell, you never got to experience life like humanity above, but at least the one good thing was that Heaven didn’t get to enjoy the savory goodness that was the red fruit. 
They seemed to be a cultural treat back on the living plane and came in all kinds of varieties. Pie, cake, chips, juice, alcohol, syrup, cereal? Humans couldn’t get enough of the fruit! Was there even a combination left to create with the crisp, tarty goodness?
Wait… that’s it! 
“Apple tarts!” You blurted excitedly, clapping your hands.
“What?” Charlie asked as you moved forward, taking her hand in glee.
“I’ll make him some apple tarts! I’m sure that’ll improve his mood and be more agreeable to you! I’ve got to get to the kitchen though, see you in an hour!” You spoke quickly as you hurried off, Charlie trailing your figure with wide eyes.
As you slid into the kitchen, your hand immediately dug for your phone, as you quickly pulled up any five-star recipe for the tarted treat. Then, there was frantic mumbling coming from your left, and you lifted your head to see a large figure rummaging through a fridge. The demon’s tail lashed nervously behind him as he stuffed more ingredients into his arms.
“Sir. Pentious?” 
The figure pulled his head out of the fridge in surprise, hitting his head on the way out with a grunt before pivoting to face you. 
“Itssss you!” He breathed out in relief, holding a clawed hand to his chest as he regained composure.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why, I am baking cookies for His Majessssty!” He held out the small pile of items towards you, before slithering to a corner of the kitchen on the opposite side of you, “What about you?”
“Apple tarts! I guess we’ll see who’s he prefers, huh?” You called playfully as you bent down with a grunt to collect utensils and mixing bowls hastily. 
“Ah, yesssss. Nothing like a friendly competition in the heat of the kitchen.” Sir. Pentious chuckled nervously, as he continued to pull ingredients from the cabinets, just as you were doing the same.
You grimaced at the cooking time of the apple tarts, it was going to be very close, but you were set on this delicious goodness and a little apprehension wasn’t going to stop you yet.
As you worked, you heard the remnants of your friends preparing outside of the kitchen, somewhere in the lobby. Heavy footsteps reverberated across the tile as they hurried about, and the sounds of plastic stretching, like balloons being blown up and the soft screeching of tables being moved around followed soon after.
You did your best to ignore the background chatter, as you sat upon your cushioned stool, a knife in your hand as you began to thinly slice a few apples in front of you. The recipe was simple, some apple slices atop the pie crust smothered in honey, cinnamon, and sugar. You weren’t sure what kind of apples they–you assumed it was Alastor who did the shopping–had stored, but hopefully Lucifer would enjoy it nonetheless. 
Thankfully, you already had a few pans of pie crust premade for another recipe, and began to slather the sugary syrup onto the crust, your mouth watering as you arranged the apple crisps on top. Sir. Pentious fussed with an appliance across the room from you, hopefully, the poor guy hadn’t forgotten to preheat the oven while he was prepping.
After throwing the tarts into the oven you set the timer, watching the apples begin to sizzle and shrink slightly against the pounding heat. Taking a large swig of water, you grabbed a small spoon from the counter before sweeping it against the side of a used mixing bowl and turning towards your friend cleaning the dishes.
“Sir. Pentious!” You called, holding out a small spoon towards him. That honeyed goodness oozed slightly from the edge as you presented the snake demon with some of your cooking. He slithered forward, his eyes wide with interest as he stared at the mixture on the spoon, before gingerly taking it from your grip and inspecting it.
The demon didn't hesitate to part his lips and swipe his tongue across the sugary batter, before letting it swirl on his taste buds for a few moments. Slowly, his eyes lit up, and his lips curled into a large, fanged grin. 
“Mmm! It iss deliciousness!” Sir. Pentious melted in front of you, before placing the entire end of the spoon in his mouth and sucking on it like a lollipop. The snake turned, before plucking out a chunk of dough at the bottom of his used mixing bowl. 
“Ssssalmonella free!” He smiled, the doughy ball held out between two long claws extended towards you. Right, he probably doesn’t use eggs in his cooking. Especially so close to the Egg Bois, who worked near the sink to quickly wash the dirty utensils spread about Sir. Pentious’ station. You even noticed one or two running over to your work area, and grabbing used dishes to clean. You would have to thank them for that later.
Reaching out, you gingerly took the cookie dough before placing it between your lips and chewing softly. The flavors hit your tongue, and you perked at the intense, sugary taste of the dessert. Sir. Pentious had taken the classic route and baked some very delicious sugar cookies, and you licked your lips of any remaining dough.
“Very good! Save one for me after the party, hm?” 
“I sssuppose we are an even match, then!” Sir. Pentious declared, sending you a large smile before turning away to watch over his Egg Bois. 
You turned away, your eyes darting up to the clock as it ticked closer and closer to the new hour. Soon, Lucifer Morningstar would be here, and hopefully, your apple tarts would please the most powerful man in Hell. Was he as handsome as the magazines made him out to be? Your eyes had always traveled to his porcelain figure in the supermarkets, that sultry, playful gaze he shot the camera that practically beckoned you with a hot, invisible finger. 
The ethereal radiance he exuded even trapped inside that paper cover already made your cheeks warm and your skin tingle, you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel when he was standing right in front of you. Especially when it came to your recent increase in… passionate perspectives.
You shook yourself, attempting to rid your mind of such thoughts as you groaned into your hands. You sat on your stool, waiting quietly in the dimly lit kitchen for your treats to finish. The lobby had quieted down since you had begun, now more casual discussion along with rustlings of party decor being adjusted and preps of introductions. You paid the others' conversations no mind, deep in thought as you brushed a thumb across your stomach softly.
The timer suddenly rang loudly in your hands, and you jumped from your seat slightly at the noise in your palm. The small, white clock vibrated in your grip, and you rushed to reset the mechanism to end its cry. You looked up at the clock hanging on the wall once more, how long had you just been sitting there thinking about gorgeous men? Lucifer could show up any minute! 
Settling the timer gently atop the marble counter, you slid off the seat and reached for the oven mitts next to the sink. Striding to the oven, you pulled its door open, the rush of hot air hitting your cheeks.
‘Imagine being late to greet the king of Hell,’ you growled to yourself as your eyes snapped to the clock on the wall, the new hour finally arriving, ‘A great first impression, good going.’
The yummy goodness in your grasp sizzled as you pulled the pan from the oven, breathing in the delicious scents deeply before placing the metal dish on the top of the stove. Steam billowed off the golden-brown apple slices, the cinnamon mixture oozing slightly underneath the thin crisps of fruit. 
Hurriedly, you cut into the tart, slicing the pie-like treat into smaller slices before placing them gently onto a separate tray. By the time you threw the remaining dirty dishes in the sink and made your way to the door of the kitchen, you heard those familiar rasps against the hotel’s front door. 
Knock Knock
You halted in your tracks right when Charlie swung open the front door to reveal a handsome, pearlescent figure bursting in to wrap his arms around his daughter. Those platinum blonde locks bounced softly underneath his tall brim hat, as he settled beside his daughter as they chatted. You were unprepared for those soft, yellow eyes that swept across the room with a playful glint in their gaze, or the confident, charming smirk that seemed so natural on the fallen angel’s features. 
That air of superiority radiated from Lucifer’s figure, with every demon in the room aware of the raw power he possessed. Those tantalizing stories of a ruthless and blood-thirsty ruler of Hell who crushed anyone who so much as sent him a heated glance refreshed in everyone’s memories as they smiled widely. The fallen angel hadn’t stayed in such a sought-after position since Hell’s creation for no reason, as only Heaven could match his strength. 
Lucifer made no show of the deadly undertones in his proximity, however, as he strolled farther into the lobby with a relaxed grin as Charlie introduced him to Angel and Sir. Pentious. The king’s looks were only improving every step he took closer towards your spot hiding behind the kitchen door, your breath hitching as you traced his figure from the cracked doorway. The tarts weren’t the only thing in the room making your mouth water anymore.
Should you just stay in here until he goes away? Mail the tarts to him, instead? Surely, meeting you wasn’t that important, and there was always a next time to introduce yourself. Inhaling a sharp breath, you shook your head to ease your nerves and expel those anxious thoughts. You were no coward, and even the prettiest face in Hell wouldn’t stop you from handing Lucifer the bakery sweets.
“I guess that’s why they called it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” You heard Lucifer laugh from across the room, and you poked your head out from the doorway. 
Eavesdropping into the conversation for a few more moments, you gripped the small tray in your hands tightly as you waited for the perfect time to make your sneaky entrance. Right when his eyes left the place near Husk you were planning on scooching into, you took your chance and hurried across the lobby. 
Everyone’s eyes were on Lucifer and Alastor bickering, and it didn’t seem like anyone noticed as you slipped next to the shorter feline. That was until you felt the side of your stomach connect with the table's edge, and it slid slightly with a sickening screech. You clamped your mouth shut to stop a frustrated curse from leaving your lips as you tensed.
Curious gazes locked onto your figure, and the tray in your hands slowly lowered onto the table as you felt sweat bead down your forehead from the unwanted attention. The plan was to be as low-key as possible when you joined the group, not be thrust into the spotlight! 
Lucifer turned, his gaze landing on your stomach before anything else, and your breath hitched as his eyes lit up with an unreadable gleam. The king traveled up your figure, before resting on your face, and his eyes seemed to widen even more as he stared for a moment.
Gosh, how embarrassing. If he decided to burst out laughing at your clumsiness or make a public spectacle of your interruption, maybe it’s something you deserve—
“Woah!” Lucifer suddenly perked, before leaning backward, squinting his eyes as if he just got hit by a harsh ray of angelic light, “Someone tell Heaven they dropped one of their halos down here….” 
A pair of sunglasses materialized between his fingers as the fallen angel shimmied past Charlie, and you watched with wide eyes as he practically leaped over the table to reach your figure at the other end. 
“Because you are glowing, mama!” The king slid right up next to you, lifting the shades from his face as he waggled his eyebrows with a devilish smirk. Heat crept across your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully at his antics. Lucifer Morningstar was right next to you, and even so, up close you couldn’t find a single imperfection on his features. 
The demons around you blurred as you and Lucifer locked eyes for a few moments longer, the expressions flicking through your gazes enough to cover the silence. Lucifer’s smirk turned into a soft smile as his eyes flicked to your stomach then back to you with an adoring glimmer, his features gentle as he lifted a hand out towards you.
“Please,” you laughed softly, tilting your head away to try and hide the heat that was practically pouring off your face as you slid your fingers into his palm, “That’s just a fairytale, I’d say the truth of my appearance is the opposite right about now.”
The warmth radiating off of Lucifer’s porcelain skin made you want to melt like butter. You felt the ache in your joints subside softly, along with the feeling of bliss from his touch that made goosebumps ripple across your skin. 
“No, seriously,” Lucifer’s grin widened, patting your hand softly, “Even I am envious of your glow, sweetheart. You look great.”
You resisted the urge to scream into your hands like some kind of lovesick teenager at his words. Geez, you barely said a few sentences to this guy and he’s already trying to rizz you up. And it was working! 
“Thank you,” your voice cracked softly, and Lucifer gripped your hand tighter as he lowered himself slightly in a bow.
“Lucifer Morningstar!” He smiled as he met your graze once more, tipping his hat slightly as he spoke, “I’m sure you already know who I am, though, as do most who see my face. The question is, who are you?” 
That soothing warmth on your skin disappeared as Lucifer slowly released your hand and took a step back. You lowered your arm back to your side, silently pining for his soft touch against the fallen angel. 
“Oh, enough about me!” You wave off his question with a large grin, attempting to change the conversation, “You’re the special man we’re all gathered here for today!” 
Averting your gaze, you reach down towards a slice of apple tart on the tray nearby. The dessert is still slightly hot, and the heat that greets your skin followed by an itch of pain helps keep your focus in front of such a tasty snack. You were not talking about the tart.
Lucifer looks at it for a few moments, steam still slightly wafting from the golden-brown crisps of apples as you hold it towards him. The scents of cinnamon and honey hit the fallen angel’s nostrils, and he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes still locked onto your hand.
“What is this?” He quirked a brow, gaze flicking to the warm smile on your lips then back to the dessert.
“An apple tart,” you reply, your arm stretching farther towards him, “I heard a rumor that our ruler fancied red fruits, so I thought I’d welcome him with a snack.” 
Slowly, Lucifer lifted a hand and took the tart from your grasp. He turned it in his hands for a moment, before lifting it to his lips and taking a deep breath. The fallen angel sent you one last unreadable look before he placed the tart into his mouth. 
You licked at the crumbs on your fingers, savoring the little bit of flavor you received. Indulging yourself in food in front of the guy you were currently ogling over wasn’t on the top of your to-do list. You’d stick to satisfying your cravings in the privacy of your room. 
Lucifer chewed for a few moments, before he squinted in thought. He swallowed slowly, and then his eyes lit up with a surprised, but joyful, gleam. A smile bloomed across his lips as he reached over next to you to grab another of the pie-like treats.
“Okay, wow. I’m impressed. I might hire you as my personal baker from now on,” another tart was consumed by the king, as he licked hungrily at the cinnamon mixture that was dribbling down his chin. 
He seemed to be really enjoying them, which made you giddy inside. One, because Lucifer was enjoying your food, and two, because that would mean he was in a good enough mood for Charlie to convince him to get an audience with Heaven. 
“Dad,” Charlie finally broke the conversation between the two of you, before settling at your side. She put a gentle hand on your shoulder as she continued to speak, “This lovely lady was having a rough time with her living situation, so I offered her a place to stay while she was still expecting. She’s been a great addition to our little Hazbin family. Now, she’s taking it easy until the baby comes.” 
“That’s a good idea,” Lucifer nodded in agreement through the apple tart he was stuffing his face with. 
“I’m not completely useless,” you quickly interjected, clasping your hands together, “I help out around the hotel in any way I can, or however Alastor can use my assistance.”
“Right…” Lucifer shot Alastor, who was watching the three of you with interest a few feet away, a sharp glare as he spoke, “Your… manager over there isn’t pushing you too hard, is he?”
What was that? It sounded like Lucifer had held in a growl when he asked that, you could feel the reverberations from his throat underneath his tone. 
“Alastor has been nothing but kind to me, everyone here has. His Majesty is too kind to care for me like this. Don’t worry, I haven’t done anything that could affect me or the baby.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Lucifer said, as picked up the last tart from the tray.
The king’s gaze rested on you as you looked at the tart longingly, your stomach growling softly as you imagined the treat between your teeth. You had eaten breakfast, had a snack before Lucifer’s arrival, and had some cookie dough from Sir. Pentious, yet you were still hungry? Where was your self-respect in front of the most important figure in the realm?
Lucifer must have noticed your hungry gaze, as he split the tart apart and handed a small piece towards you. You stared at it for a moment, before shaking your head and gesturing silently for him to eat it while you heard Charlie conversing quickly with Vaggie nearby. 
The king didn’t let you refuse, when he squinted his eyes at you with a stern look and pushed the tart closer to your face, to where it was almost grazing your lips. 
With a sigh, you send him a warm smile in thanks and reach for the tart. It crumbled slightly in your hand and you quickly shoved the whole thing into your mouth, lifting a hand to shield your immodesty as you chewed softly. 
Fuck, that tasted so good. Your time in the kitchen has improved your skill as you happily continued chewing down the dessert, a content smile on your lips as you stood next to Lucifer.
“Just make sure not to let that creep over there make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Lucifer held a hand up to hide his mouth from the onlookers, shielding the quiet words that left his lips, “If you ever need me to smite him…” 
“Dad!” Charlie gasped, shooting her father a stern glare. 
“A joke, a joke,” Lucifer chuckled, elbowing his daughter softly in the side before turning away from you. 
It was then that the chandelier above everyone’s heads swayed dangerously, the rusting bolts loosening slowly from their hold against the thick plaster. You heard a soft creaking sound before your head shot up just as the bolts dislodged from their place and the large light fixture came crashing down.
It landed a few feet away from you, as glass shattered and splayed across the floor. You jumped in surprise, your hand automatically coming up to shield your stomach and Lucifer’s head snapped towards you in concern. You hadn’t been hurt, but his eyes still traced your figure for any injuries before he gave the chandelier a stink eye.
“Alright then,” Lucifer chuckled, and you watched with wide eyes as he slid from your side the floor beneath your feet shifted as he began to… sing? You backed away to the edge of the wall just as the fallen angel began to address his daughter, showcasing his magical talent as different objects poofed in and out of existence.
You had watched with wide, awe-struck eyes during the sudden musical number, your thoughts still on Lucifer's warm, gentle touch and his praise only moments before. Why was he so kind and out of the gate, was it because of your pregnancy? 
Did the king of Hell have a soft spot for babies, or did he take pity on your exhausted, worn figure? Even baking was becoming a chore, and standing on your feet for so long was beginning to wear down on you. Thankfully, the attention was finally off you now that Lucifer and Alastor were practically at each other's throats again. 
Did it matter what Lucifer thought of you? His attention alone made your thighs ache, and staring into those pretty eyes for too long made your lips dry and cracked and needed someone to wet them with their own.
Jesus, get it together! You just met the man, stop being such a weirdo! 
When you finally were pulled back into reality, blinking away the stars of hot emotions that were dancing on the edge of your vision, the music had ended and a strange, short woman had burst through the front doors of the hotel.
Mimzy, that was her name, and apparently a friend of Alastor’s back from their living days on Earth. You didn’t know Alastor had friends outside of the hotel, let alone friendly enough to embrace the woman. Even with all those nasty rumors about the red demon, Mimzy only looked at him with a playful glimmer in her eyes as she turned to get a look at the rest of the group. 
When she approached you with giddy steps and batted eyelashes as she grinned at your figure relaxing on the bar stool across the room. 
"Aw, suga, that baby bump of yours is just precious! I’ve neva’ seen one so adorable before! Who’s the lucky man?” Her eyes quickly scanned across the room, as if your baby daddy was hiding somewhere among the few pieces of furniture inside the large room. 
“Not here,” you replied with a sigh, “Never will be, unfortunately. He and I had some… disagreements a while ago. I haven’t seen him in months.”
Lucifer watched you carefully, drinking in your words with an unreadable expression from a distance before Charlie dragged him away to continue the tour around the hotel. 
"Aw, darlin', that's a tough break. But forget that fella! You're better off without him, sweetheart. Plenty of strong mamas out there held their own just fine. Down here in Hell, it's rough, but you don't need no man to look after you! Keep on keepin' on, hun."
You averted Mimzy’s gaze at her words with a bashful smile. Doubt had always itched at the back of your scalp, doubts of whether you were doing everything right and when you had the baby if you could be okay on your own. Now, you felt a surge of renewed confidence in how good of a mother you could be. The strange woman was right of course, you didn’t need a man to have a stable life. 
But, you still yearned for someone to caress you softly late at night, or whisper sweet words of adoration and care when you desperately needed it most. A man to kiss and cherish for the rest of your life, and someone who would love your baby as their own. 
Mimzy was loud and obnoxious as you sat next to her at the bar, but you assumed that’s what she did for a living, drawing people in with her charm to stay for drinks and watch her dance. Her job was to wow the crowd enough for them to give her and her flapping sisters big tips and lots of company.
She wasn’t too bad of a story-teller either, and as you and a few others listened to her story of Alastor’s interactions with previous overlords, you caught the way Husk growled when he spoke to her and how he’d shoot her icy glares whenever nearby. As if she was a rattlesnake ready to bring trouble, and only he could hear the warnings from her tail. 
You understood the suspicion the feline bartender was holding towards Mimzy when a large hole suddenly blew through the wall opposite from the bar, and harsh, angry voices snarled the flapper’s name. 
Adrenaline shot through your veins as you jumped from the bar stool, your first thought instantly going towards your baby. That maternal, animalistic urge to protect your child’s wellbeing at any cost, even if it meant sacrificing some of your own.
As your friends rushed around the room in a panic, and Alastor met the murderous loan sharks head-on outside, you locked eyes with Mimzy cowering underneath one of the bar stools. 
“I’m sorry, I just needed to get them off my back!” She grimaced as another explosion rocked the lobby, and you stumbled backward as debris from the ceiling fell across your shoulders. 
Your head snapped across the room, and you saw Alastor’s large demonic figure taking the brunt of the loan shark’s attacks. Tentacles whipped around him as they smashed a few snarling demons into a pulp against the ground. The thug’s aims weren’t very accurate, and some grenades bounced right past the giant demon’s figure and straight toward the hotel. 
Luckily, nothing had reached the inside of the building yet, but you weren’t going to take any chance as you turned on your heel towards the closed door of the kitchen. It was on the farthest side of the lobby and provided a large catalog of items you could use for self-defense.
If the time came when you had to cheese-grater a man across the face or make a kabob out of his eye, you had the tools to do so. 
As you moved, you turned your head to scan for the others still in the room. Sir. Pentious was slithering to cover behind a couch, Niffty tight in his hold as she lowered his head out of sight. Husk was somewhere behind the bar no doubt, and Angel Dust was poking his head out behind the large gap in the wall, cheering on Alastor’s bloodlust. 
Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggie were still unaccounted for, most likely somewhere on the opposite side of the hotel by now. There wasn’t a doubt that the three of them heard all the chaos, but would they get here fast enough to lend a hand? Alastor was powerful, but he couldn’t be in two places at once if one or two thugs decided to take the fight inside. 
Right now seemed to be a really nice time to put that pure angelic power to good use!
Your ears rang loudly, heart pounding, right as you reached the kitchen door. You wrapped your fingers around the handle and pulled on it harshly. Except, the door didn’t budge. Again, you pulled on the handle, grunting with effort right as the floor shook beneath you. Your side harshly hit the door as you stumbled forward, before inhaling a sharp breath. 
You were stuck, the door behind you locked tight. 
Had the door locked from the inside when you had left earlier? You didn’t remember closing it, but perhaps the musical shenanigans from before blew a strong enough gust of wind to shut it tight. 
Your eyes darted across the room, looking for any other place to run that could give you even an ounce of protection. Unfortunately, you weren’t flexible nor small enough to actually fit inside or behind anything for cover at the moment, which limited your options. 
A loan shark cried out for help right outside the gap in the wall, a tentacle wrapped around his meaty legs as he harshly yanked him backward. The demon’s high-pitched scream faded as he was flung over the black gates and off into the distance.
Your gaze lowered, catching sight of a grenade from one of the few remaining thugs bouncing right off Alastor’s back, and colliding with a large boom against the hotel’s roof. The ceiling shook, pieces of plaster falling from the sky as you ducked to try to avoid them. Angel Dust dove behind the bar, beckoning you from across the room to join him and Husk as they lay low against the tile. 
Did they think you could actually run across the room before another explosion hit the hotel?
You didn’t have a chance to join them anyway, as a large support beam above your head shook violently, before the wall crumbled around the long, wooden post and it began to dislodge from its fasteners. 
Before one could blink, the beam began to fall from its place against the ceiling, its trajectory aimed right on top of you. Angel gasped and placed a pair of hands on his face, shielding his eyes from your doom. Husk only stared in horror, mouth agape as the large object descended upon you.
Backing against the kitchen door, you shielded your head and curled your legs against your stomach. 
‘This is it, I'm a goner,’ you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the blow. 
Except, it never came. Nothing happened, actually. The deafening sounds of chaos and war around you faded slightly, as if you placed a pair of headphones over your head. You didn’t feel the sting of pain, or the sound of the large beam crashing to the floor. 
You were still alive, that was for sure with how hard your heart pounded against your chest. 
Slowly, you lifted your head and cracked an eye open, a golden light blinding you for a moment as your pupils adjusted to the ethereal glow. A dome of energy crackled around you, casting a mesmerizing golden hue across your figure. The thick walls of energy around you aren’t completely opaque, and you can see the lobby in shambles, but your little area under the bowl is completely intact. 
Taking a deep breath, you relax slightly and slowly stand from the door, the sounds of chaos still audible as you hear another explosion and screaming thugs.
“Look, Charlie,” Lucifer’s chastising voice rose above the chaos, his head turning from you to his daughter as another support beam crashed beside them, “What did I tell you? This is what happens when you invite people in and be kind to them… nothing but trouble! You should still stick to helping people that actually need it.”
Your head turned, watching Lucifer lean lazily against his cane as Charlie scrambled around the room trying to help the others. His back was turned to you, but seeing you were sealed in a practically indestructible barrier while he continued to yap, your safety was guaranteed now.
Finally, Alastor swallowed up the last of the thugs, the large demon licked his blood-stained chops before slowly shrinking back into his original form. Dust still swirled around the lobby, but the explosions had ceased, and anything that was in danger of falling had already done so. 
The dome of energy surrounding you flickered out of existence, any trace of its magical essence vanishing as you took a tentative step forward. The intensity of the light made your head ache, and you rubbed your temple with a groan. 
“Are you okay?” Lucifer asked softly, coming up to stand beside you, his fingers wrapped around your arm tight as you steadied yourself.
“Yes, just a little dizzy, I’m fine now,” you turned to stare at the fallen angel with an assuring smile, right as his eyes scanned across your face, only for his brows to furrow at the sight.
“Wait, you’re bleeding,” Lucifer tensed, before his cane dropped beside him and his fingers slid down to your wrist, and he turned your hand over palm-up. On your index finger was a small cut, which oozed with a thin trail of black blood, before dripping onto the carpet below. 
Lucifer dug into a pocket inside his white overcoat, before pulling out a hand-embroidered handkerchief. He reached up to your forehead, gently brushing the fabric against your skin to clean it.
You must have smeared some blood on your face when you had previously rubbed it, that’s why he was so worried. There was no pain from the wound, and you had no idea where it had even come from.
“It’s just a scratch,” you assured, not pulling away from Lucifer’s hold on your hand as he dabbed softly at your forehead. 
That warmth bloomed from his touch again, sending a shiver up your spine and your eyes to droop placidly. It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t exhausted from everything that had happened today, and that energy he exuded only feeding the urge to cozy up on the sofa a few feet away.
“Better safe than sorry” he retorted, worry dripping from his voice as he tore off a clean piece of his handkerchief, wrapping it around your finger before tying it taut against your skin. His fingers still lingered against your palm, as the two of you stood there around the demons trying to pick up the place a little.
“I’m guessing you’re the one that put that barrier around me, hm?” You asked with a soft smile. 
“Well, I didn’t expect to walk into the room with you about to be impaled by a giant wooden stake. It was pretty crazy for a moment there… is the baby okay?” 
The fact he was also worried about your child made you gush silently, swooning harder for the fallen angel than before. 
“Fine,” you nodded, reaching a free hand to gently caress your bump, “I felt them moving a bit when you came over.”
The baby had been quite active recently. Doing backflips, karate kicks, and whatever else there was for entertainment inside your womb. Earlier, when you were baking, you took a painful jab to the side by the little one, and that wasn’t the first time today.
It was then that you felt it, a kick against your inner walls, causing you to jerk slightly from the surprise of it. Lucifer jumped from your reaction, and you sent him a large grin with wide eyes as you curled your fingers around his hand. 
“They’re moving right now, even!” You perked, gently tugging his arm towards you with giddiness. Nobody has ever felt your baby kick before, a privilege usually reserved for parents or the child’s father. You had neither of those now, so if it meant showing a stranger the same feelings of softness you experienced? So be it.
Lucifer tensed, frozen in silence from your bold actions as you placed his hand against the fabric of your outfit. You still for a few seconds, the fallen angel’s warmth on your stomach welcoming as you waited for the baby to move again. 
Luckily, they did, right against the king’s hand against your bump. He hitched a breath as soon as he felt the sensation of your little one’s movements, his eyes widening with fondness.
You smiled widely, your bump growing ticklish at the feeling of your child’s restlessness. Then, you felt something odd going on against your abdomen, and you lowered your head with wide eyes as the tip of Lucifer’s finger began to glow. A soft, golden light that sizzled at your fabric, before it seemed to seep underneath and into your skin.
It felt like someone was pouring caffeine directly into your bloodstream, the exhaustion dissipating from your mind in an instant and your heartbeat quickening. The painful throbbing in your ankles subsided, and you felt renewed energy even deep in your bones. 
The light seemed to grow across your bump, and the strange magic that was flooding your senses suddenly had your mind racing. Could it be hurting your child? 
“What are you doing?” You asked quietly, taking a nervous step backward away from his touch.
“What..? Oh!” Lucifer’s hand retracted to his side in an instant, his lips curving into an apologetic smile as he averted his gaze. He seemed nervous all of a sudden, eyes darting across the room before they landed on Charlie brushing dust off of Vaggie’s hair across the room. 
“My apologies, have a wonderful rest of your night,” The king of Hell tipped his hat to you, refusing to meet your gaze as he backpedaled and pivoted sharply away from you, and began strolling towards his daughter who turned to him with a frown. 
Your stomach twisted at his sudden exit, regret bubbling in you. Did your question come off as too confrontational? Lucifer didn’t exactly ask for your permission to do… whatever he did, so it wasn’t wrong to react the way you had. 
Watching Lucifer leave for a few moments, you sighed softly, hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Looking around the room, you searched for something to busy yourself with as your mind continued to race. 
That was the last time you had spoken to Lucifer for the rest of the night, his sudden departure after reconciling with Charlie leaving you to stew silently with your thoughts. 
Would you meet the king again? You desperately hoped so.
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Your thoughts stayed on Lucifer even after you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that. Thoughts of his gentle touch, his strange behavior, and the way his magic had filled you with such strength. 
You felt renewed vigor after that sweet encounter with the king. It was like getting shot with a dose of ibuprofen and adrenaline all at once. The soreness in your ankles subsided, the strain on your back lessened, and you felt, dare you say… lighter on your feet?
Was that what angelic magic was capable of? Lucifer’s touch felt like nothing you had ever experienced before, at least compared to some of the other demons in the hotel.
Alastor’s magic was freezing to the touch, and whenever he was visibly displaying his power in the vicinity, you began to notice how your breath fell from your lips like fog. The Radio Demon’s aura played with your fight or flight instincts, putting you on the edge whenever his smile sharpened, those spots in your vision filled with strange symbols as he shot predatory eyes towards enemies of the hotel. 
Fear was the driving force behind Alastor’s power, the elixir to spur that blood-lust in his veins. A similar feeling itched at the back of your scalp anytime Angel Dust returned from Valentino’s studio, the stench of an emotionally driven display of dominance that always led to someone curling against the cold, hard floor in anguish. While you held no reservations for the pleasant-speaking, red demon, you still regarded him with caution at the amount of trouble he could bring into your life at any moment. 
Charlie had a lot of potential for being half-angel, the same magical essence that flowed through Heaven also flowed through her veins, mixed with the demonic presence imbued into her parents when they fell. It made you feel uneasy, being surrounded by such powerful forces with a child on the way.
Except, Lucifer’s aura was much different. It made you feel… grounded, and safe, like you could conquer the world. A boost of confidence with a hint of child-like giddiness that made a soft smile grace your lips the entire rest of the day.
That soft, golden magic that spread across your skin made warmth bloom through your body and sent pleasurable tingles up your spine. It eased the strain in your muscles and settled your nerves like a refreshing sip of red wine after a long day, making you dizzy for more. Even though you were the one to pull away first, that desire to get closer to Lucifer again didn't fade the rest of his visit. Which only made you frustrated at your own chaotic emotions.
Growling, you inspected your appearance in the bathroom mirror, steam coiling around your face as the plush fabric of the towel soothed your soaked, heated skin as it dried the water dripping from your figure. 
Curse these pregnancy hormones, for making you think such disrespectful thoughts! He was the king of Hell, not some pretty dilf with a thing for babies that made heat creep across your cheeks–and in between your thighs–without a second thought.
“I blame you for this,” you shot a glare down to your bump, before exiting the bathroom with a huff and reaching your dresser.
You began to change in an outfit for the day, which was taking much longer than usual now that your stomach was growing rounder by the day. It was obvious you were close to your due date, and that filled you with joy and anxiety.
Joy, to be finally holding your baby into your arms and letting them snuggle against your warm chest. Communicating through soft lullabies and whispers with the only response being kicked to your bladder wasn’t exactly the thrills of your pregnancy. When you finally had the little bean in your life, you’d do everything you could to spoil them rotten. 
Your baby wasn’t exactly a ‘little bean’ anymore, but until you settled on a name, that was what you would continue to call them. 
Thoughts about your baby always made your anxiety spike, thinking about what you would have to do to bring your child into the world. Labor wasn’t pretty in any realm, and the exhaustion and pain that would come with it wasn’t something you liked to think about too often. 
What would happen if something went horribly wrong? Who… who would take care of your child? 
You only sighed as you finished dressing, slipping on comfortable footwear as you crossed your room towards the hallway door. The trek from your room to the lobby had become quite a strenuous one, since you slept across the hotel from everyone else. 
When you had first arrived, you still dealt with the occasional twisted stomach, especially after your nose began to identify once delicious smells as revolting to the point you were gagging just smelling a once beloved candle. 
At your request, Alastor had found you a room with a small balcony that faced away from the city. It was the cleanest air, and smelled the least sulfury as that side of the hotel was hit with large drafts of fresh—or whatever was close enough in a place like Hell—air that you welcomed on days where you felt like emptying your last meal constantly.
Now, the long walk was killing your ankles, and the staircase conveniently placed between you and the lobby made your path even longer when you had to slowly waddle down the stairs. You haven’t come close to slipping yet, but seeing as you couldn’t see your feet any longer, it would surely happen eventually. 
As the door to your room shut softly behind you, the plush carpet beneath your feet felt refreshing to your swollen appendages as you began strolling down the hallway. Yawning, you rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes as you closed in on the staircase. Since waking up, an exhaustion deep in your bones had been plaguing you. Today, the only thing on the to-do list was to watch the newest episodes of ‘Hell’s Greatest Bachelor’ and sleep.
“What are you doing up there?” A familiar voice called from the bottom of the staircase, sending you a stern stare as he leaned against his cane.
You stopped, one foot hovering just above the first step as your head shot up and eyes widened as Lucifer stared at you with furrowed brows. What was he doing here? When did he get here, and why did you choose today to wear something comfy and casual? 
Was he still upset about what happened last time?
“My King? W-what are you doing here?” 
“I believe I asked you first. What are you doing all the way up on those steps?” 
“Does His Majesty now quarrel with the stairs?” You teased, trying to contain a playful smile. Whenever you were in the fallen angel’s presence, you almost caught your lips curving into a goofy grin that was paired with heated cheeks.
It seemed Lucifer was in much better spirits today, his demeanor more playful than stern, and you sighed softly with relief. 
“No!” The king huffed, before placing his black-heeled boots onto the plush, red carpet of the staircase and slowly made his way up to you, “What I quarrel with is someone trying to kill themselves! Do you know how dangerous this kinda thing is in your condition?”
There’s that word again, ‘Condition’. As if it is some illness that has befallen you and taken the use of your legs and critical thinking skills. Maybe it was just your emotions getting the best of you, but you really hated that word. 
“I asked Alastor to put me over here, these windows have the best airflow” you shrugged, taking another step down the staircase which Lucifer only grimaced at.
“Stop moving, let me get to you,” Lucifer growled softly, watching you with unease before leaping up the final steps to your waiting figure.
He halted at a step just above you, and for the first time, you had to look up to meet the king’s gaze.
“I’m pregnant,” you squinted slightly, sending Lucifer a small glare as you frowned, “Not handicapped.”
“I know, I know…” Lucifer lifted an elbow to you, a gentle beckon for you to take his arm as he spoke, “But it’s always good to be a little extra careful! It’s not like I'm bothered doing this kind of thing for you, anyway.”
“You’re the king,” you take his gesture, sliding your arm around his as you lock elbows, warmth radiates from his touch and you relax slightly, “It’s demons like me who should be waiting on you like this.”
“I’m Lucifer Morningstar,” he puffed his chest slightly, quirking a playful brow at you, “I don’t need anyone to wait on me, because I can do it all with a snap of a finger.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile as he guided you down the stairs, silence following his proclamation. It was quite a long staircase and stole your breath most times you tried to climb it. Hopefully, this daily exercise would mean your next match with the cracked concrete path down the hill outside would be in your favor.
Lucifer’s hold on you was gentle but firm, as he used his other hand to softly tap his cane against each step. It was rhythmic, with purpose, and you thought in the silence of the large room you could hear him humming a soft tune, as he stared off in the distance.
“What are you singing?”
“I was singing something?” Lucifer perked, before he sent you an apologetic smile. 
“I don’t mind it,” you replied with a soft smile, turning your head to meet his gaze, “Your voice is very… pretty.” 
His eyes widened, face flushing slightly at the words that left your lips, which also caught you in surprise. Sure, you had gushed about his voice for the past three days, but you didn’t expect to be so blunt about it. Especially, when it was to the adult crush’s face!
“You think so?” 
“Yes,” you batted your lashes at him, hold tightening around his arm as you continued down the steps, “You have a very velvety, soft voice, even when you’re humming. Like a lullaby, something I'd sing to my baby before bed.”
You felt Lucifer puff his chest slightly, his posture straightening beside you and you could only smile in delight. It was obvious Lucifer liked your compliments, and you had no problem reminding him of how gorgeous he was.
You imagined that the fallen angel was carved from the smoothest marble with the most precise hands, a perfect sculpture of a man that humans could only envy. 
“I used to do the same for Charlie,” Lucifer replied after a few moments, a content smile on his lips as if he was replaying the memories with fondness, “I like to think she got her musical talent from all the nights I sang her to sleep.”
“That’s so funny, Charlie seems like she was a wild baby,” you laughed softly as the two of you continued walking down the steps, halfway there now. Envy itched at the back of your scalp as you imagined what it would be like to have someone else doting over you and your baby like that.
“She was,” Lucifer gushed, just as your feet hit the hallway flooring of the hallway. The happiness Lucifer displayed talking about his daughter only made your heart swell. 
If your ex had stayed around, would he have shown the same care Lucifer had in the short amount of time since you had met him? Probably not. At least you had done the right thing and dropped him the moment he chose his dick over a family, there were no regrets anymore about your past actions regarding that asshole of a demon.
“Thank you, Your Majesty, for helping me with that difficult task,” You slowly began to slip your arm out of Lucifer’s hold, and he hesitated slightly, but released his hold after a moment, “Now I believe it's your turn to tell me what you’re doing here so soon.”
“I felt I’d come in person to tell Charlie about the meeting with Heaven. I got in contact with them and arranged a date for her. I just wanted to run through some rules she should keep in mind when she’s up there,” Lucifer replied. 
You titled your head, smiling softly at his worried expression. His daughter is going someplace potentially dangerous where he couldn’t protect her, and that obviously made him uneasy. You’d feel the same if it was your child, the thought causing your hand to lift and brush a gentle thumb underneath your bump.
“Also, to apologize again,” Lucifer deflated slightly, rotating the apple-tipped cane between his fingers, “I overstepped my boundaries the last time we interacted, it was rude of me and I won't let it happen again.”
“Are you talking about that magic stuff you did to me?” You asked, tilting your head with a quirked brow.
“Yes… I didn’t realize I was doing it until you reacted. It’s just kind of an instinct for me, blessing babies. I mean–well, I can’t bless anymore, but it's still the same kind of magic. I understand if it made you uncomfortable and everything…”
“I liked it.”
“You did?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his cane freezing in his grip as he stared at you.
“Yes! I was just taken aback is all, I’m sorry. Whatever you did, it felt very invigorating, like I could climb a mountain!” you nodded your head vigorously, eyes sparkling as you sent Lucifer a playful smile.
“Oh… well, I’m glad I could be of use to you,” he averted his gaze with a bashful grin, adjusting his long collar with flustered fingers.
“Would you do it again?” You asked with a raised brow, puckering your lips slightly as you batted your lashes towards Lucifer. Whatever he did felt like some kind of drug you craved, boosting your mood and energy like nothing ever has. 
“Uh huh…” Lucifer’s gaze drifted to your lips momentarily, before you unpuckered them and they curved into a pleased grin.
“Great! Here, you can even touch my bump again, if that makes things easier,” you beamed, lacing your fingers with Lucifer’sm who tensed at your bold touch. Gently, you pulled his arm towards the underside of your bump, lifting the fabric slightly so his finger could softly graze against soft skin.
Lucifer was deathly still, his hand obediently limp in your hold as you adjusted closer to the baby’s position. They had been very active this morning, playing patty cake with your bladder and parkouring against the walls of your womb. Even now, you could feel a slight nudging against the side of your stomach, and you pressed Lucifer’s hand gently into your skin. 
“...There! Can you feel it?”
Right on cue, your baby roughly nudged you, your skin shifting slightly against their jab, and Lucifer’s hand tensed at the feeling. That soft smile of his widened, that glimmer of adoration returning to his gaze as his index finger extended, a soft golden glow emanating from the skin Lucifer’s hand was softly pressed against.
Just like last time, a soothing burst of energy flowed through your limbs. The ache in your feet ebbed, that weight in your back lessening, along with the similar sensation of experiencing a sugar rush. The urge to do a few laps around the hotel, if that was even possible at this point.
And then, something strange happened. Something… different from the last time. You felt pulsing against your skin where Lucifer's fingers lay. 
Ba-dump, Ba-dump. Fast and rhythmic, beating with life. As your skin seemed to glow with the angelic light, the noise only got louder as it echoed around the room. Your fingers still wrapped delicately around Lucifer’s hand tightened slightly, as the pulsing grew stronger.
“Can you hear that?” Lucifer whispered softly, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as he met your gaze.
“Is that…?”
“Their heartbeat,” he replied with a smile, “It sounds very strong, too. A perfect, healthy baby.” 
Tears pricked at your eyes as you listened for a few more moments, the sounds of your child’s beating heart like music to your ears. 
After a few more moments, Lucifer slowly slid his hand out of your grip and away from your stomach. With his touch went the warmth and that magical, golden glow. The room fell silent again, that musical rhythm fading with the light. 
You wiped your eyes with a free hand, holding in a sniffle as you smoothed the fabric of your outfit back into place with the other.
“Better?” 
“Very much,” you nodded, your posture straightening that made relief bloom down your aching spine, “Enough to go for a walk outside, even!” 
“Alone?” 
“Well, who else?” You quirked a brow, turning towards the long hallway on the other end of the room, one hand resting on your bump as you walked, “Angel is working, Sir. Pentious sleeps until noon, and Charlie and Vaggie always spend their mornings together. Unless you are suggesting that I ask Alastor, who actually might be around here somewher—“
“—It's almost like, ” Lucifer slid up right beside you, arm softly brushing against yours as he sent you a charming grin, keeping pace with your slight amble, “There is a demon very close by that is perfectly capable of lending assistance. One that has done a fantastic job so far providing both protection and entertainment, don’t you agree?
“Doesn’t this demon have plans with his daughter this fine morning?”
“Apparently his daughter has plans with someone else, and I’d hate to interrupt the two lovebirds doing whatever it is that young kids do these days.”
“And you’d rather spend your free time with me?” You questioned with a soft, disbelieving laugh. Why would someone that could go anywhere he pleased and do anything he wanted, spend time with a random demon from the streets like you? 
“If the lady allows me,” Lucifer hummed with a grin.
What was so bad about letting him join you? It was only a quick walk, and you didn’t mind his company one bit. He was the king of Hell anyway, he could join you even without your consent. He was giving you a choice in the matter, and that just proved his character was more than that egotistical, powerful grin he displayed to his people on the covers of magazines. 
“His Majesty may join my stroll if he wishes,” you grinned, sending him a playful glance as the hallway opened up slightly as you neared the front of the building.
Lucifer seemed to have a little more pep in his step the rest of the way to the lobby, which was unusually empty as the two of you passed through the large room towards the front entrance. The fallen angel slid right past you to reach the doors first, before he opened one wide for you with a courteous tip of his hat as you passed by. 
“What a gentleman,” you teased with a giggle, patting him softly on the shoulder as you passed by, before stepping into the morning light. Basked in light red hues, you stepped onto the grass.
“There’s a dirt path that goes around the building, just a lap is all I needed to burn some energy.” You turned to him with a smile.
Before you even got to take a step in that direction, your stomach rumbled loudly, and Lucifer’s head snapped in your direction, before he quirked a brow at your averted gaze.
“Have you eaten anything today?” 
“No, it's still early. I get sick if I eat right away in the morning, ” you explained. Another addition to the list of pregnancy symptoms that liked to torment you. 
“Something light, at least,” Lucifer suggested, his eyes landing on a rickety old picnic table before turning to you with a pleading look. 
You don’t argue with the fallen angel, instead brushing past him to take a seat on one of the benches. With all the extra weight in your middle, sitting was also becoming a nuance, and the muscles in your legs were probably twice the size now with all the exercising you were doing lately.
“What’s on the menu today?” Lucifer asked from the other side of the table, rubbing his hands with a playful smile as he removed his hat and coat to lay gently beside him. 
After a few moments of thought, you indulged him on your latest food fix. 
“The lady is as cultured as ever,” the king responded with a grin, before snapping his fingers and lifting his hand palm-up to catch a plate of your desire and lowering it gently onto the table, before catching a tall glass of water in the other.
Digging into your gourmet breakfast, Lucifer watched you with a small smile, pleased that you were eating something at least. His thoughts pulled him away for a few moments as you hungrily devoured the food on the table. 
You both sat there in comfortable silence, drinking in the morning peace.
“What are your plans after you have the baby?” Lucifer finally spoke, his chin resting against his knuckles as he stared at you softly. The gentle breeze tousled his silky blonde strands, as you took a sip from your glass. 
“Probably find somewhere deeper in the city, where the jobs are. I’m sure there’s somewhere hiring that will take my skills. Maybe I’ll actually become a baker this time.”
“You don’t plan on staying?”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” you shook your head, pausing to take another large sip of your water, “Charlie’s already been accommodating enough, I can’t ask for more”
“Did he think you were a bother?” Lucifer suddenly blurted.
He? 
“Who?” 
“You’re… previous partner,” he slowly replied, stepping carefully to the subject of your ex-boyfriend. Someone who you had desperately tried to forget these past few months, to no avail. 
You blinked, tilting your head. Had Lucifer heard your conversation with Mimzy from when you first met? Had he been letting whatever thoughts stew until it drove him mad enough to ask you about it now? 
“I think he was more bothered by the fact he was going to be a father, than just me,” you laughed dryly, tracing the thin lines in the wood absently as you further exposed the shortcomings in your life.
Lucifer clenched his fist, pupils narrowing in irritation at your words. A soft growl resonated from his throat, and you lifted your head in concern at his emotional display.
“I’m sorry,” he shrunk slightly under your questioning star, averting his gaze to control his outburst. “It’s just hard to believe that anyone would treat someone like you with such disregard.” 
Your mouth parted slightly, but no words left your lips as you processed his statement, heart fluttering at his reaction. Guilt and regret crossed his features for bringing up the topic, as if you were a ticking time bomb ready to explode at the mention of your old lover.
Was Lucifer angry for you?
You found yourself overwhelmed by Lucifer's unexpected display of protectiveness and concern. His reaction stirred a mixture of emotions within you, ranging from surprise to gratitude. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a side of him you only glimpsed before—a side that cared deeply about your well-being. 
“Lucifer I—“
“Let’s not dwell on the past,” the fallen angel interrupted you, rising from the bench suddenly as the empty dishes around you vanished with a burst of red smoke. 
He slipped on his overcoat and hat, before moving around the table to stand by your side. You looked up at him with a questioning stare once more.
“Shall we continue?” Lucifer asked softly, before lifting an elbow offering it to you.
You frowned at his change in the conversation, before lowering your gaze to his arm and slowly reaching up to grasp it with a small smile. Fine, you’d drop his sudden interest in your past and future.
Using his angelic strength, Lucifer helped you rise from your seat, a show of support you accepted gratefully. You locked elbows with him again, before turning towards the dirt pathway that wrapped around the hotel. 
For now, you’d let him dote on you without fuss. One day, though, you’d figure out what made the fallen angel so interested in you.
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After that, Lucifer came to visit the hotel more often, which also meant paying a visit on your end too. It always started with a soft knock on your door, before he greeted you with that charming grin that instantly sent butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.
Then, he’d pull out an item from the inside of his coat, lifting it towards you like an offering. Usually, it was food that the fallen angel had noticed you taking a liking to. He’d lift a diverse array of mouth-watering goodies to your face, his lips curving into a knowing smirk as you hungrily accepted them.
Your cravings seemed to change by the week, so the poor guy began keeping a list of them all on the door of his fridge as a daily reminder of what could win your heart. Cravings weren’t the only things he kept an eye on, every interest you spoke of during those long conversations were memorized. 
As time went on, the gifts he offered you grew bigger, and so did your reactions to seeing them.
One day, Lucifer had walked you back to the staircase in an odd silence. He had never been so quiet before, and his demeanor was more anxious than usual. You didn’t have time to ponder that thought for long when the king cleared his throat to grab your attention.
“So…. I was a little bored last night,” Lucifer started, adjusting his long collar nervously as you regarded him with a quirked brow, “and, well, seeing as you didn’t have much for the baby, I thought I could give you a hand, soooo I made you this!”
His arm quickly lifted towards you, and you leaned forward to get a look at the small object in his hand.
Nestled in Lucifer’s palm, was a small, yellow rubber ducky. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, as your gaze flicked from the toy to Lucifer, then back to the ducky adorned with a small, white hat. He watched your reaction intensely, and at your silence, he cracked an awkward grin.
“For the little one, in case you didn’t have anything for them. It’s even got a little baker's hat, since I know that’s kind of your thing.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, and you took the duck gingerly from his hand, turning it over as you traced the outline of the beak, the cute little hat, and finally its adorable tail feathers curled at the back. It stirred something in you, your stomach swimming with emotions that were threatening to bubble up and consume you while staring at the toy. 
He made this… for your baby? As a gift to you? 
That was so sweet of him, and not even Charlie had given you something so thoughtful. Sure, she paid for a majority of your baby necessities—which you owed her your life for, no matter how much the girl disagreed—but she never presented you with something made from the heart like this.
Lucifer did, though. Even if he made a million matching yellow duckies beforehand, he still made this one specifically for you. Had your ex ever cared enough to do something like this for you? You couldn’t recall. And yet, a man who was practically a stranger before you was the one to care enough.
Fuck, you were about to cry. You tried to steel yourself, holding back tears. 
You met Lucifer’s gaze after a few moments, as you softly stroked the little toy with your thumb. The fallen angel only grimaced at your reaction, his smile faltering slightly as he watched your eyes well with tears and your lip start to quiver.
“Do you hate it?” He asked slowly, and you realized you were beginning to sniffle softly, hiccups building in your chest as you blinked in confusion. 
“Hate—hic—It? Why would you think…?” You started, before you felt tears welling up underneath your chin, and dripping softly onto the ducky close to your chest. 
You mentally slapped yourself, of course Lucifer would think you disliked it because of how emotional you were being. Shame ate at you after that. Here the king of Hell was, thinking about you and your baby and making something in his own free time, only for you to reward him with tears.
Curse these hormones!
Now, the quiet sniffles that escaped you were from both sadness and delight, as you clutched the rubber ducky closer to your chest. The tears spilled faster from your cheeks, wetting the ground beneath you. A few droplets landed on your exposed arm, and its cool touch was a welcome sensation from the heat boiling underneath your skin. 
“I-I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” you finally breathed, rubbing a hand across your face to get rid of the tears, before you inhaled a sharp breath to calm yourself, “I’m sorry for being such a… such a—”
You clamped your mouth shut, trying to rope in the last bit of control you had over your emotions that were threatening to come undone. You sucked in a large, sputtering breath and Lucifer leaned back, just as your lips quivered violently.
“—a wreck!” you wailed after that, placing your free hand to your mouth to try and hold in your sobs.
Lucifer jumped slightly, closing in the distance between the two of you as he rushed to your side. He bit his lip, what could he possibly do to make you feel better? If he would have known this was how you were going to react
“Wait, no! You’re not a wreck, you’re completely fine. Perfect, even! Oh, please don’t cry…” 
The man was starting to pace as you held a hand to your mouth, slowly but surely clamping down on your outburst of emotion.
“Here, have another one!” A second rubber ducky appeared with a red burst of smoke, landing softly into his palm as he lifted it towards your face, “Don’t worry I have a lot more at home!”
The duckie's cute little apron, displaying a cookie and two tiny wooden spoons in the shape of an X, only made your lip quiver more violently. Lucifer slowly pulled the third ducky away from your view behind his back, staring with concern as you tried to catch your breath.
“It’s so cute!” you gasped through the tears, before rubbing your eyes once more.
“You think so?” He replied in disbelief.
You nodded your head vigorously, smiling through the tears as you clutched both ducks to your chest. Lucifer slowly caught on, before breathing a large sigh of relief like he just avoided doomsday.
“Are… you two okay?” Came a familiar voice from the edge of the room. You turned your head to see Charlie standing with a confused expression as she watched Lucifer fuss over your disheveled figure.
“Charlie!” Lucifer perked, shooting her an awkward grin as he stood beside you, “I didn’t expect to see you here! I just thought I'd swing by and give our friend here a little something for their child.”
You held out your hands to the princess, who leaned in to get a better look at the yellow toys. The familiar body shape, orange beak, and beady little eyes had her immediately recognizing the objects and the reason behind your emotional outburst. 
“Awe, that’s so sweet, Dad!” Charlie clutched her chest, swooning at the sight of the small rubber ducks in your hands, “To make something for her baby like that, so thoughtful of you!”
She walked closer towards you and Lucifer, passing right by a few feet away to a hallway on the other end of the room. 
“Well, I won’t interrupt the two of you any longer, comfortable in each other's company already” Charlie waggled her eyebrows at you, throwing her dad an encouraging thumbs up before walking around a corner and out of sight. 
That had been a very embarrassing moment for you, but after the initial upsetting reaction, Lucifer didn’t seem to mind the changes pregnancy had forcefully placed upon you. Emotionally or physically, he seemed to adore traits that you had acquired during these past few months.
The fallen angel had been helping you in the kitchen one afternoon, as you made apple empanadas at his subtle request. 
Since you had first introduced Lucifer to your cooking, he couldn’t get enough of it. Anytime you mentioned using the kitchen, his head would snap towards you, licking his lips with hunger. The fallen angel had never asked outright for you to make anything for him, but dropping hints like ‘I thought I'd drop off some more apples for your pantry, since I know you like to use them in your baking and all.’ 
You’d simply shake your head and pull out Alastor’s recipe book, flipping through the pages for anything that used the red fruit. Thankfully, there was more than just tarts and pie that you could try your hand at. 
Thankfully, Lucifer ate up your dishes with the ferocity of a starving child every time. 
“If you can just materialize any food you want, why not just make these yourself?” You had asked him once, as you took small balls of dough into round, flattened pieces against the kitchen countertop. 
“Your food is just much better,” he had shrugged next to you, folding the dough-wrapped apple stuffing into dumpling-like shapes, before setting them neatly on a cookie sheet to be baked. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his forearms, his red-and-white-striped waistcoat covered by a tall red apron. 
Heat crept across your cheeks at Lucifer’s words and you averted your gaze to hide your flustered expression. With his help, you’d never fuss about making him sweet treats. Especially if you got to indulge in them as well. 
Picking up a light stack of dishes you walked around the counter towards the sink. Your walk wasn’t really a walk anymore, your gait altered to adjust for the weight of what was basically a watermelon strapped to your stomach. 
You were also much slower, and you hated it. 
Right as you reached the sink, a soft chuckle reverberated behind you. Lucifer’s gaze had followed your figure, his eyes glinting with amusement as you moved.
“What are you laughing at?” You shot him a playful, suspicious glance as you placed the dishes gently into the sink. 
“Your walk, it reminds me of a waddle,” Lucifer teased with a soft smile, "Like a duck, adorable without even trying.” 
That only sent you into another flustered mess, cheeks heating in embarrassment that it was quite obvious you were struggling with the growing baby weight so far into your pregnancy. 
Even with the multitude of compliments given to you by the king, your self-esteem had greatly deflated as the months passed. 
“I look rather unsightly now,” you had sighed, adjusting your outfit in the tall mirror near your room’s dresser. 
Lucifer was leaning against the frame of your doorway, arms crossed as he watched you analyze yourself meticulously.
“What? Who told you that?” Lucifer questioned with a soft growl, brows furrowing.
“Nobody,” you replied with a frown, crossing your arms, “Nobody needs to tell me I look terrible. It’s clear as day, just look at me!”
“I am,” he smiled softly, shooting you casual bedroom eyes, “And I am very tempted to show you just how wrong you are, but my daughter demands my presence, and who am I to deny my little girl’s call?”
“Looks like I’ll just have to see you later,” you replied as he strolled up to you with a cheeky smile. 
“Of course,” he had purred, his fingers lacing with yours before he lifted your hand to his face. Lowering his head, Lucifer brushed his lips softly against your knuckles, heat radiating from his touch. Your heart fluttered, breath hitching as you resisted the urge to melt right then and there. 
Lucifer had tipped his hat to you, releasing your fingers slowly before turning away and walking out the door. You had smiled like a dumb teenager then, your mood instantly brightening at his flirtatious demeanor. 
However long this… bond between you and Lucifer lasted, you prayed it was full of nothing but soft memories. Only time would tell whether the king would get bored of you and simply turn the other cheek at your presence, no indication that the two of you had ever held a conversation. 
‘Stop being so paranoid,’ you growled to yourself, shaking your head, ‘He’s only ever been kind to you. Caring, thoughtful, funny. What more do you want?’
With the last month of your pregnancy just around the corner, you were determined to make this last, mostly peaceful period a pleasant one with the people you cared about. 
Hopefully, things will stay peaceful until then.
But, as Extermination Day closed in, so did your due date. You were giddy for the arrival of the latter, ready for the freedoms that came with having total control of your body once more.
‘I can’t wait until you’re outta me, kiddo,” you patted your round stomach affectionately, before waddling out of your room. Which was about five doors down from the lobby now, closer to the rest of the residents. It was noisier now, but at least you didn’t have to walk a mile to get decent food. 
It was Charlie who had initially convinced you to move, citing the fact that if you were to go into labor during the night or somewhere too far from the others, it may pose a risk to your baby in the case of an emergency. 
She was right, and Lucifer had no qualms with the change, as expected.
The only downside to being close to your due date was the many false alarms signaling you of labor. False alarms that only heightened everyone’s unease that you were a water balloon waiting to burst at any moment's notice.
Lucifer’s anxiety especially spiked whenever you’d suddenly wince, hissing in pain as you put a shaky hand on your stomach. He’d come rushing to your side, and you responded to his concern with an assuring smile and a pat on your stomach. 
“I’m fine, just Braxton-Hicks contractions, nothing serious… I think.” 
The king would sigh in relief at your words, relaxing slightly before offering you water or something to snack on. 
In the final month of your pregnancy, you were under strict orders by the royal family to refrain from lifting a finger until the baby came. You found that when the two Morningstar’s weren’t busy, they were finding ways to entertain you and soothe the natural pains that came with being on the very last leg of your pregnancy. 
Seeing as Extermination Day was just around the corner, the two weren’t around much as the days went on. Charlie was disappearing more often to try and gather support against Adam’s forces, and Lucifer was slowly regressing into another one of his depressive episodes.
Lucifer’s woes weren’t magically solved simply because he was finding purpose in caring for you and the hotel, mental health was unfortunately not that smoothly paved of a road to traverse. The king still had days where he retreated into the darkness of his mansion, barely a word to you or Charlie during that time. Only to reappear with tired, sunken eyes and a handful of freshly crafted rubber ducks for your growing collection.
You always gave him the space he needed, it just was terrible timing seeing his daughter was preparing to fight an army of murderous angels. 
Until one day Lucifer appeared in front of the door of your room, knocking so softly you almost missed it if you weren’t right next to the wooden frame. Extermination Day was only a week away. 
“You should get somewhere safe,” He had started right as you appeared in the doorway, “This hotel is full of targets for Heaven, you shouldn't be in such a stressful environment with the risk of an attack.”
“I thought they can’t go after my kind?” You had questioned, head tilting in confusion.
“The contract explicitly states they can’t, but that doesn’t mean one idiot can’t point the spear at the wrong demon in the chaos. I just don’t want to risk anything.” Lucifer pleaded silently for your agreement, his eyes soft with concern.
“If that’s what you think is best,” you had replied softly, heart fluttering at the level of worry and care the fallen angel displayed towards you and your child.
There was a small villa nestled on the outskirts of the city Lucifer owned, quiet and peaceful with its own butler that you’d rely on while you stayed there during the extermination. Lucifer had nudged at the idea of you staying there for more than just a couple of days, insisting how much better equipped it was to house a baby and away from any danger.
You had considered it, but your answer wasn’t finalized by the time Extermination Day rolled around, and you awoke with packed bags and a twisting stomach. You had been feeling… off all morning. Your bump felt heavier as you completed your early routine, your baby a little more active than usual. Sleep was a rarity the past few days, and you tried to rid your mind of drowsiness as you stood in front of Charlie with 
“Okay, so there is a limo coming to pick you and your things up soon. I made sure to have them pull up at the top of the hill for you,” The princess spoke as Vaggie tightened her outfit from the back, adjusting it slightly against her skin.
It was a red suit that stuck to her figure perfectly, providing ample flexibility and movement during battle. You had never imagined Charlie in this kind of scenario, someone who strongly opposed violence walking straight into it? A surprising sight, but the princess was set on being on the frontlines with the rest of her people when Adam arrived.
“Thank you,” you replied softly, before wincing at a ripple of pain that hit your from your lower abdomen. 
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, sorry. I've just been feeling a little under the weather lately. Nothing to be worried about.” You smiled reassuringly to the princess. She had much bigger things to fuss about then you.
“Okay, just let me know if something changes,” She nodded, adjusting her red suit as she spoke, “I haven’t been able to get ahold of my dad this morning… I hope he didn’t forget today was when the big army was coming down to try and kill us all.”
You had chuckled nervously along with Charlie at her own words. As much as it seemed like a simple tease, you had a sneaking feeling Lucifer would actually lose track of time and show up to the battle halfway through.
Charlie had turned away from you with a quick farewell, continuing preparations for the coming battle as you stood at the entrance to the hotel, waiting for the private car to arrive.
Then, you were hit with a cramp that had an intensity you hadn't experienced yet. It was followed by a sharp pinch deep inside your abdomen, before liquid began to pool at your feet. You froze, heart pounding as you stood deathly silent.
Was that your water breaking? Were you going into labor now?!
“Charlie!” Your voice cracked painfully as you called for the woman, who was adjusting a heart-shaped shield against her arm. The princess turned around to meet your gaze with confusion, before it morphed into concern as she scanned your figure, looking for what had you looking so shell-shocked.
“Oh!” Charlie gasped, her expression a mixture of panic and delight as the dots connected, “Oh my! It's happening! Hold on, hold on, I’m going to grab my phone!”
Another contraction hit you as Charlie dashed off, causing you to double over in pain and Vaggie to rush to your side with concern etched on her features. The next few minutes turned into a blur as the limo pulled up, and you were slowly moved to its waiting frame. 
This was it, it was time to have this baby. A relieving thought as you reached the vehicle’s side, your heart beating rapidly and mind racing with a million thoughts at once.
Your mind was still racing by the time you arrived inside the hospital and assigned a room.
“You got this, boss!” An Egg Boi cheered atop a stool right beside your hospital bed, your hand clenched dangerously tight around his stick arm as you inhaled a sharp breath of pain. 
“Thank you, Frank,” You grimaced, adjusting your posture atop the mattress as you tried to find any amount of relief during this naturally uncomfortable chapter of becoming a mother. The contractions were getting closer together, and were increasing in l; length and intensity since you first started keeping track.
Immediately after telling Charlie the badly-timed news, she had you rushed off to a nearby maternity ward. At arrival, you were forced to change into a thin and revealing hospital gown, before being strapped to machines that read your baby’s vitals and recorded your contractions. 
Apparently, the small hospital you were in was the best medical facility in all of Hell, paid for and used by the Morningstar family and the rest of the realm’s royalty.
The employees signed strict NDAs on what transpires during their shift, to prevent them from spilling to the press if a tragedy were to strike among the highest nobility. 
You had been here for the past few hours, the warning sirens outside had gone off a while ago, signaling Heaven’s attack on Pentagram City. The shades were drawn in your little room, preventing the witness of any gruesome sights right outside your window.
You couldn’t stomach watching the live footage of the extermination on your teeny hospital TV, not right now. Instead, you had some childish cartoon playing for Frank, who Sir. Pentious had insisted on going with you since everyone else was needed in the fight.
The drawback of not knowing the status of the hotel only made your anxiety worsen, though. 
Was everyone okay? Was Lucifer with them? Did he know you were here? Maybe, they won already… or lost. A hundred unwanted thoughts sped through your mind concerning your friends, but when another contraction hit you and you grimaced against the feeling of your insides being squeezed silly, the matters concerning anything outside of this room were not on your mind any longer.
That’s right, focus on the baby. They were your priority right now, their well-being depended on how you handled the next few hours. Soon, you’d finally get to welcome your child to the realm and in your arms. Every change and ache you’ve experienced for the past few months won’t have been for nothing, and you’d be cool with not experiencing this again for a long while afterward. 
Right as your head settled exhaustively against the cool, sterile pillow and Frank soothingly patted your hand, the door to your room opened and a small bunny-faced woman quietly slipped into the room.
“Hello! I’m Nurse Smith, just coming in to check up on you. How are you feeling?” The sandy-colored demon asked with a pleasant smile, her black heels clicking softly against the tile floor as she moved to your bedside.
“I feel like we’re getting closer,” you croaked softly, lips cracked with thirst. Unfortunately, if you wanted a much less painful delivery, water was a no-no until your epidural. Your contractions had been manageable, but as the hour began to change, they were coming in more intense and closer waves.
“Let’s check, shall we?” Her long ears perked, as she moved towards the monitors displaying your child’s heart rate and other information, including how dilated your cervix was. 
“Oh, it looks like you’re dilated about 9 centimeters. I think we’re ready to meet the little one! I’ll call the other nurses, and the anesthesiologist for the epidural.”
“Thank god,” You breathed with relief, the numbing liquid would be your saving grace in these trying times. 
The nurse left the room to fetch the rest of the delivery team, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest as you took deep, shaky breaths to calm your nerves. It wasn’t really working, and while you understood the need for all hands on deck to fight a horde of trained angelic killers, the lack of familiar, comforting faces inside the building.
Frank was a nice little addition, but he could only offer you so much support with eyes glued to the screen of dancing, animated fruit with baby features.
When the anesthesiologist arrived, surrounded by a multitude of demons dressed in white medical attire, he had greeted you softly before lifting a long, thin needle to your view.
Gulping quietly, you rose to face your back towards the doctor, and he began poking uncomfortably down your spine. When it seemed like he had found the perfect spot, you felt a sharp pinch in your back before faint warmth slowly crept from the spot the demon had injected. 
When that was finished, and you reclined back against your mattress, the staff around you were prepping the baby cleaning station and fussing around at the end of the bed near your legs.
Then, a tall woman with lion-like features strolled into the room, her commanding presence told you she was the head honcho of the small crew of white-clad women who were busy around you.
“Hello, I’m the OB that’s going to help deliver your baby today,” she walked up to the side of your bed, pulling light blue latex gloves onto her paws as her eyes landed on the egg-shaped demon beside you with an odd expression, “Is he the…?”
“No!” You gasped, releasing Frank's arm and scooching over an inch from the short demon, before raising a brow to the doctor with a gaze that silently questioned ‘Seriously? You think I’d bang an egg?’
She only shrugged, before turning away from you to speak quietly to a few nurses washing their hands. With a sigh, you twisted your head to face your innocent companion, tapping his shell softly to get his attention. Another contraction hit you, but the high-quality numbing agent had you barely reacting.
“Frank, sweetie, can you please wait outside until I get done with my… business here?”
“Sure thing!” The egg replied happily, his eyes moving from the cartoons to you with a thumbs up, before the demon tipped his little black hat in a bid of farewell and hopped off the stool beside your bed.
As the nurses scurried around your legs, before lifting them with care and slipping your ankles snugly inside. You felt bare and exposed—which you were—and while the room was much more comfortable and dimly lit than other hospitals you had been to, constant beeping equipment paired with the faint smell of the beach only heightened your anxiety at the fact you were about to give birth.
“Deep breaths for me, dear,” the OB spoke softly, before slipping a surgical mask onto her face, and retreating to in between your legs, two nurses at the ready beside her. Her figure became obscured as she bent down below the sheet that was covering the sight before your lifted knees.
Following her instructions obediently, you regained control of your breathing. Deep inhale, long exhale. Another, and another, then another, until you could feel your heart beginning to slow its racing pace. 
“Alright, it’s time. On my count, I want you to start pushing when you feel your contractions, okay?” The OB piped up from underneath the sheet, and your fingers gripped the rails on the side of your bed with deadly force as you mentally prepared yourself.
“1…” 
Deep breaths, you’ve got this.
“2…”
Please let this be a smooth delivery. 
“3…”
I wish Lucifer were here.
“Alright, mama, push!”
Straining against the stirrups slightly, you inhaled a deep breath and poured all your strength into your lower abdomen with a grunt as you followed the doctor’s command. After a few moments of heavy exertion, you felt the contraction begin to ebb. Your head hit the pillow with a gasp for breath, sweat beginning to down your forehead.
A contraction slowly builds in your abdomen, cueing you into gathering your strength once. As you readied for another round of pushing, you turned towards a nurse who was standing supportively on the left side of the bed.
“I’m never having sex with a man again,” you groaned, lifting your head from the pillow with effort.. 
“Oh, sweetie,” the much older woman laughed, patting your hand soothingly, “That’s what they all say.”
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Lucifer stood proudly in front of the newly rebuilt hotel, the strobe of lights flashing rhythmically, lighting up the building’s tall figure with a tempting glow to wide-eyed onlookers. The small, misfit army of Hell had defeated Adam and sent killer angels back to Heaven. 
There were casualties on both sides, but thankfully only one demon that resided inside the hotel was taken from the realm. Sir. Pentious, an inventor, leader, and friend. Lucifer may have not known the snake demon for very long, but the respect he held for the brave captain was immense. 
“What a beauty! And it only took us one musical number to get it all done, that has got to be a record!” The fallen angel nodded his head approvingly, crossing his arms as he twisted his head to observe the small crowd of demons. 
The princess stood a few feet away, handing Cherry Bomb a small medical kit as she leaned against a bench. The cyclops woman sent Charlie a small appreciative smile as she took the metal case from her hands. 
Turning, she strolled up to her father with tired eyes, exhaustion evident on her features, both mentally and physically from everything she had just experienced in the short span of a few hours.
“We did good, if I do say so myself,” Lucifer grinned pridefully to his daughter, blonde hair swaying softly in the breeze as he met her halfway.
“Yeah. That's for doing most of the work, Dad. We wouldn't have gotten it done so fast without your magic.” Charlie nodded, smiling softly.
“Pfft, it was no biggie. Anything for my little girl,” Lucifer brushed off her compliment with a wave of his hand, before pulling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.
Charlie and Lucifer stood next to each other in comfortable silence, as the princess absently rubbed the bruise on her throat. Adam’s grip had been suffocating, the intention of harm evident on his expressive mask before it was split in two by Lucifer’s powerful retaliation. 
“I think she’ll really like this place, If she hasn't already seen it on TV at the villa.” Her father finally spoke after a few moments.
She. Charlie didn’t need her dad to say your name to know who he was talking about. You were one of the few women that was on Lucifer’s mind these days, and it was obvious the two of you had grown closer these past few months. She was sure if you were at the hotel during the battle the king would have been a raging mess to keep both you and his daughter safe. Fortunately, you were far from anyone who would want to lay a hand on you.
“I think she’s a little busy right now, since she’s..”
It suddenly occurred, the cloud of exhaustion parting just enough for the recollection of where exactly you had gone to smack Charlie square in the face. The princess had been so busy getting thrown around in battle, mourning her friend, and helping rebuild the hotel she almost forgot why you had left so suddenly.
“She’s having her baby!” Charlie suddenly gasped, eyes widening before she threw her hands up to hold her head in realization. 
“She’s what?” Lucifer whispered, his face paling to an even whiter shade as he froze in place.
“She went into labor this morning, so I had her taken to that hospital you liked,” Charlie explained breathlessly, a few demons around them eavesdropping on their conversation as Vaggie walked over with a mirrored expression of realization.
“Alone?” The fallen angel replied, mouth slightly agape as panic began to set into his features.
“One of Pentious’ eggs is with her,” Cherry Bomb answered softly from her spot on the bench with a melancholy gaze, as she re-wrapped a nasty wound with gauze.
“Why didn't you tell me?” He demanded.
“I was kind of in the middle of a battle!” Charlie replied defensively, her mind racing now as she worried about you and how you were faring during such a stressful time. What about the baby? 
Lucifer didn’t respond, turning away from the gathering group of demons as he snapped his fingers. In an instant, his long overcoat materialized atop his shoulders, and his hat floated down gracefully to rest upon the king’s head as golden magic circled his figure, before disappearing without a word. 
“Why couldn't he have done that for the rest of us?” Angel Dust grumbled from beside Cherry, before standing with a sigh and cracking his back. Husk strolled up to stand beside him, mouth opening in a large yawn as he itched his chin with a claw.
“I’ll call a cab,” Vaggie replied, rushing off in search of a phone as Charlie began to bite her nail to try and relieve some of the stress that was beginning to bubble up in her stomach. A million unwanted thoughts of scenarios where something terrible happened to you or the baby eating at her mind.
The apple-cheeked woman’s nail was still at the mercy of her nervous chewing as she rocked self-soothingly in the chair next to Vaggie, who rubbed her shoulder softly in support. 
Five battered demons sat in cushioned armchairs arranged in neat rows across a small waiting room right outside of the maternity ward. 
Alastor had disappeared again sometime after the hotel had been finished, with no word of his whereabouts. Cherry Bomb had been too disheveled to join, tears brimming from her large eye as the rest of the demons squished into one taxi and sped off.
When they arrived, Lucifer was already inside the hospital, foot tapping impatiently in the front lobby as he pointed a commanding finger down towards a white, oval-shaped figure standing agape before him.
“You, talking egg,” The fallen angel began, voice deepening to display his superior authority as Charlie approached from behind, “You were sent here today to keep watch over someone very important. Now lead them to me… please”
Frank had stated wide-eyed for a few more moments, before saluting his king and marching off into a hallway on the right. 
Now, the king of Hell was displaying anything but the traits of an imposing leader. Hunched slightly, head lowered, an obvious nervous wreck as Lucifer paced along a wide pane of glass overlooking a more residential side of the city. 
One pink, fuzzy demon stared intently at the anxious figure with a large smile of amusement.
“Ten bucks she’s handling everything much better actually popping out the kid than this poor fella is over here,” Angel teased as he gestured towards Lucifer, before meeting Husk’s eyes from the chair next to him.
The feline’s gaze moved to follow the king’s continuous back-and-forth trail in front of the window across the room, the apple-tipped cane twisting between his fingers impatiently as he waited for news on your condition. Lucifer raked a hand through his hair, pulling back the tousled strands as he mumbled something incoherent.
It was obvious Lucifer and Charlie were related by much more than just their looks, one being how badly they handled stressful situations. You were being cared for by the best doctors in Hell, what could go wrong?
“Nah, you’re probably right,” Husk finally replied with a chuckle, before his eyelids slowly lowered and he drifted off into a light, cat-like sleep. 
A quiet purr resonated from his chest as he napped, and Angel smiled before lifting the pink phone in his hands and taking a selfie, Husk’s peaceful expression slightly visible from behind the spider’s figure. 
Somehow, Niffty had gotten hold of a handful of markers and was demonstrating her artistry on a living canvas for amusement. Frank sat on the floor near Vaggie’s feet while the tiny cyclops doodled across his shell, he didn’t move an inch.
When the door to the waiting room opened, a nurse clad in white slipped inside, and everyone froze to stare at the approaching demon. She lowered her gaze respectfully in Lucifer's presence, and halted right in front of the first row of chairs. 
“Huska’, wake up!” Angel Dust whispered sternly into the feline’s ear and a poke to the cheek, who popped a disgruntled eye open in response to the interruption. 
Husk turned to shoot Angel a glare before his eyes landed on the demon woman standing in front, his ears perking in interest. 
“The delivery went smoothly,” she smiled shyly, and everyone in the room exhaled a shared sigh of relief, “You’re welcome to visit now, just follow me.”
Everyone rose from their seats, Lucifer adjusting his appearance to look more presentable for you as he walked toward the nurse. Charlie turned to lace her fingers with Vaggie’s before following behind her dad. 
“Maybe I should stay back, I don’t do well with kids…” Husk started, still leaning back in his seat.
“Don’t be a pussy, pussy cat,” Angel teased, not looking backward as he joined the rest of the group by the door.
Husk growled softly, before lifting himself from the chair with a huff and exiting out of the door, his feathered tail swishing with anticipation as he crossed the hall and stood with the others at the last doorway on the end.
‘Shh, The Baby Is Sleeping!’ sign was hanging against its frame, before the nurse knocked on the door softly and turned back to the groups 
“Whenever you’re ready,” the nurse hummed, before backpedaling and pivoting on her heel to check in on another room nearby.
Lucifer stood frozen in place, one hand reaching for the door handle as he hesitated. Eyes stared expectantly at their king, who only backed up from the room and allowed Charlie to take the lead.
“I think it would be best if you go first, I’m sure she’s anxious to see you all safe and sound,” Lucifer said with a nervous grin, taking a step backward and slipping past the figures of your friends. 
Charlie only stared at him with a curious expression, as if she was going to argue with her father, before turning back to the door and slowly turning the handle to reveal the room inside. 
“Hi, everyone” he heard you greet them tiredly from the other side of the room before they responded with a mixture of soft words for the new mother. 
Lucifer couldn’t see past the looming bodies of the demons in front of him, and that gave him time to pull out a thin, delicate object from his coat and turn it between his fingers in thought. His mind racing with what he could possibly say to you in a moment like this.
“How are you doing?” Charlie asked as the small group of friends filed into the room.
“Much better now that you’re here,” you replied with a small, relieved laugh, “Although, I did expect Sir. Pentious to join, too.”
Radio silence, not a peep from anyone. How were they supposed to tell you that your baking buddy had sacrificed himself for all his friends? It was such a happy moment for you, they couldn’t dare ruin 
“Yeah, bummer…” Angel Dust murmured quietly, rubbing his arm awkwardly as everyone else tried to keep their lips from curving downward and find a topic to change to.
Then, the king heard Charlie gasp softly, her head turning to another obscured side of the room. The rest of the group turned their heads to follow their gaze, eyes widening at the sight. 
“Is that…?” She whispered in excitement. 
“Yes, would you like to meet my daughter?”
Lucifer’s heart fluttered at that. Daughter. You had delivered a healthy baby girl, and he was not going to wait around a moment longer to congratulate you. 
Finally, the king inhaled a deep, reassuring breath before he strode forward and stepped into the dimly lit room. The crowd parted, revealing your relaxed form on the bed across from him. Lucifer finally met your siren-like gaze and your lips curved into a delighted smile.
“Lucifer,” you sighed happily, eyes drinking in the fallen angel’s perfect figure. 
“Glad to lose some of that water weight?” He teased with that signature charming grin, taking a few steps closer to your bed.
Across the room, was a transparent bassinet nestled in the darkest area of the large space. Every demon in the room had their attention on the bundle of blankets lying still inside.
Slowly, Charlie scooted closer and closer to the cradle, before she leaned over with a smile. She stared in awe at the tiny figure sleeping soundly, before turning her head to meet your gaze. 
“I trust you, Charlie,” you smiled softly at the wide-eyed woman, “You can take her if you want, just be careful.” 
With a joyous smile, the princess turned back to look down at the little bundle of joy, before reaching down and carefully lifting the baby out of the bassinet.
She looked just like you, all cozy wrapped up in the thick blankets around her small body as Charlie held her tight, slowly lowering into a cushioned chair near the shaded windows of the room. The rest of the attendees in the room—save for Lucifer, who couldn’t take his eyes off you—gazed at your twin with adoration. Even Husk wanted a peak, nose twitching as he got a good look at the child with interest. 
“Look at her nose! It’s so tiny and adorable!” Charlie whispered and Vaggie leaned over the chair to get a closer look. 
You watched the small group huddle around your daughter, their gazes tender as they fawned over the sleeping child. Smiling softly, you turn your head to see Lucifer coming closer, his arm leaning against your bed's railing as he lifts a mesmerizing flower into view.
It was a beautiful red rose. Not the hellish roses that rarely grew around the outskirts of Pentagram City, but the classic Earthly version, which you recognized from one of Angel’s descriptions of life in the living realm. 
“I hope everything wasn’t too difficult,” Lucifer responded to your surprised stare at his gift.
There were no thorns present, designed specifically by pale hands just for you to enjoy without the fear of pain. Reaching an arm forward, you took the flower gently from Lucifer’s hold, your fingers brushing softly against his as you lifted it to your nose and inhaled a deep breath. 
The scent of the rose made your lips curve into a soft grin, as you met Lucifer's gaze again.
“Thank you, it’s so pretty,”
“Not in comparison to you,” he replied without hesitation.
You sent him a doubtful quirk of a brow. Having just delivered a baby, you weren’t exactly runway-ready, but Lucifer didn’t seem to care as he stared at you softly. 
Charlie walked forward, interrupting the tender moment as she offered your daughter for you to hold once more. Lucifer finally got a glimpse of your child as he stilled, eyes lighting with interest as he traced the familiar lines on their little features that mirrored so closely to your own.
He hitched a breath, right as you leaned forward and pulled your daughter into your grasp, pulling her flush against your chest. 
Pivoting slightly to face Lucifer, you beckoned the pale face closer to greet the new addition. Slowly, he sidled closer, leaning forward as his eyes traced over the tiny being all bundled up. 
“Hi there,” he spoke quietly to the child, whose features mimicked yours almost to the T. It was definitely your baby, and that only made Lucifer sigh with fondness as he lifted a tentative figure toward the bundle.
His claw delicately grazed against plump, soft cheeks which earned him an adorable coo from your daughter, and that only made the king’s lip wobble more.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Lucifer whispered, gently caressing the baby’s cheek as you watched with a warm smile. 
Then, the king lifted his head to meet your gaze, tears in his eyes as he stared at you affectionately. You had to stop yourself from rising from the bed and comforting him. 
“Sorry,” he rubbed away the wet trails on his cheeks, “Moments like these get me pretty emotional.”
Slowly, you reached a free hand towards Lucifer’s, lacing your fingers with his comfortingly as you laughed softly, tugging him farther past the railings of your bed. Your daughter was nestled against your chest, her warm cheek pressed against your skin only made your smile curve wider.
“I couldn’t have done it without your help, or anyone else’s here. I’m glad I had that kind of support all these months.”
“Don’t worry, mama” he tenderly lifted your hand, placing his lips to your knuckles for a few moments, drinking in your scent that always had him dizzy for more, “We’ll keep that streak going for a long, long time.”
Tears began to well up in your own eyes, as they traveled over to the smiling faces watching you and your baby with fondness. Had you known this is what your life would have looked like all those months ago, you wouldn’t have been so anxious about the future.
Finally, you weren’t so alone anymore. Not with Lucifer, and the obvious care he held for your daughter already, promising you a comfortable life.
Perhaps, happy days in Hell really did exist.
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holy shit guys i basically wrote y’all a novella about a baby-loving king wtffff somebody take my laptop away before i do it again 😏
Let me know what you think <3
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@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 @blue122 @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
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