↳˳⸙;; ❝THE STAR THAT DIED IN HIS ORBIT—A THOUSAND TIMES ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗—LUCIFER MAGNE
synopsis— born from lucifers chaos, a little star reaps the consequences.
tags— angst, hard angst, fluff, forced reincartation, more angst no one is happy
wc— 9012 words mwah
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱synkisz notes for you anon i hope you all eat well. fun fact, the beginning 3000 words about the stars and supernova and shit has been sitting in my draft pile since 2020. ive tried to inserted a bunch of different characters into the prompt but nothign felt right. lmk if yall want a pt 2 ALSO PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK TUMBLR WORKS OFF OF REBLOGS
SOMETIMES HE FEELS AS IF THE WORLD IS GOING TO END BECAUSE HE CAN FEEL IT WITHIN THE HOLLOWNESS OF HIS BEING.It's like he could look up to the sky and be swallowed by acid rain, melting his bones and his entire being. She was just another star, another constellation, that died in his grasp. He embodied everything she was not.
He was chaos—the personification of an eternal abyss, the emoboident of power, the articulation of fear itself—and he'd taken to her. He was drawn to her like a moth to embers. He clung to her like the stars did to the sky; he represented self-destruction, rebirth, and everything in between.
Lucifer Morningstar is the product of chaos, from the depths of hell itself, and was hardly anything short of insane. He was a supernova, capable of erupting at any point in time—the final rebirth of a collapsing star—The largest and brightest luminous astronomical event in the universe's Milky Way galaxy. The catastrophic explosion's aftermath consists only of empty space, a black hole. A venue where gravity is so strong that nothing can escape, not even light or particles. A was a vortex that siphoned and destroyed everything in its path; that's what he was.
It begins at the end. In the vast expanse of the celestial tapestry, where stardust weaves its intricate dance, there exists a solitary luminary, a fading ember of cosmic brilliance.
Behold, the dying star; a celestial elegy unfolding, adorned with melancholic grace. Once a radiant beacon of light– it quivers, whispering the final verses of its dying song to the inky void. The once golden globe, now washed in hives of ruby and amethyst, casts its dying ethereal glow upon the cosmos, a testament to the eons it has graced the cosmic stage.
Amidst this primordial chaos, a profound transformation took shape. A luminous core ignited, sparking with the fires of fusion. A newborn star was born, radiating a pristine brilliance that defied imagination. Its light, cascading through the vastness of space, brought forth a symphony of colors that enraptured all who beheld it.
As the newborn star emerged, time stood still, enraptured by its resplendent beauty. Space itself seemed to bow, creating a celestial stage for this stellar masterpiece. Its incandescent glow painted the cosmic canvas, each ethereal stroke casting a spell of wonder upon the eyes of the universe.
Golden hues embraced the newborn star, reminiscent of sunlight shimmering on tranquil waters. It pulsed with vibrant energy, as if the heartbeat of the universe echoed within its fiery core. Ribbons of crimson and magenta intertwined, like tendrils of passion and desire reaching out to touch infinity.
In this timeless moment, galaxies paused their cosmic ballet, planets halted their orbits, and comets suspended their eternal flight. The entire cosmos was entranced, a celestial congregation basking in the glory of creation's divine hand.
Lucifer was born from the beauty of death and chaos, while she was born from the beauty creation.
She was everything he was not. The light that she carried—he envied it. The radiance she emanated was a beacon of envy, illuminating the darkness within him. Its brilliance surpassed that of entire solar systems, stars, and constellations. The mere existence of the universe itself seemed to humbly bow in reverence to her presence.
An intense rush of adrenaline, excitement, and fear–a potent cocktail that surged through his veins, filled with anticipation. Love, an enigmatic feeling of uncertainty, possessed him entirely. It spread throughout his entire being with fervor, like a drug overtaking his system, mingling with the vigorous alcohol mix that streamed within him. It compelled him, with an insatiable feeling to bask merely in her presence and her light. A sensation so novel, yet it defied anything he has felt before.
Each fleeting glimpse he saw her, sent a shockwave throughout his core, it felt like an exploding star in his chest. Like a supernova detonating in the vast expanse of his chest. It was an exquisite torment, an exquisite ecstasy entwined. Love's allure was both captivating and treacherous, a delicate dance on the precipice of peril.
He would do anything and everything for that woman.
If she had asked, he would have plucked every star from the heavens and awarded them to her like a bouquet of flowers.
Never before had [Y/N] encountered such a profound sensation. It was a yearning, insatiable hunger that continued to grow and consumed her very being. Within, she found an intense feeling of contentment stirring, permeating her very existence like a gentle gust of air that whispered secrets of fulfillment and satisfaction.
From the depths of his eyes to the tousled strands of his hair, even the endearing scrunch of his nose in moments of frustration or the delightful creases that etched his mouth when he beamed with joy - her affection embraced each facet of his existence.
In the expanse of existence, it felt as if the universe conspired to revolve around their intertwined souls. Just like the stellar bodies encircling a brilliant sun, all plants within the solar system are orchestrated in perfect unity, their elliptical paths creating a cosmic ballet to solely honor them.
To Lucifer, she wasn't just a part of his life; [Y/N] embodied the entirety of his universe, a stellar beauty that eclipsed everything else. In her embrace, the trivalaties of the world faded into the void, overshadowed by a surge of emotions that lay dormant for far too long, now resurfacing like a typhoon.
In the depths of his memory, Lucifer vividly recalls the day when the world, as he knew it, ended.
It wasn't a cataclysmic eruption or a deafening explosion that heralded its demise; instead, it dwindled away with a delicate flicker. It was in that fleeting moment, while he stood transfixed, that the woman who embodied his entire existence slipped from his grasp. And as her essence eluded his trembling fingers, a profound chill stole over him, stealing away the radiance of warmth from his very core.A torrent of anguish surged through his veins, engulfing him with the force of a tempestuous lightning storm, each bolt igniting his spirit with fervor.
The sheer intensity of this emotion shook him to his very soul, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to the whims of a cruel universe.
At least, that’s what it felt like for Lucifer. It remembers it like it was yesterday.
The air was sweet like honey and apricot perfume, intoxicating with every inhale has the aroma filled their lungs with a gentle cadence. Graced with the subtle hints of dewiness from the lake that stretched out like blue ribbons,accompanied by a gentle shimmer from the suns glow.
Greenery followed for miles, trees and variety’s of flora expanding across this paradise till no end. Fruit trees littered the earth, bearing the sweetest fruit whos nectar could only be fit for the Gods.
The atomsphere was filled with the melodious songs of birds that never ceased their rymthaic chirping. It was never silent. A chorus of Mourning Doves could always be heard in the distant as their harmonious voices rung out far across the valley, signaling the dawn of a new day.
The Garden of Eden.
But before the end, Lucifer remembers the beginning.
She was utterly, irrevocably—perfect. Being the fourth human made from their heavenly father image, she was born from the birth of a new born star— whose glorious essence lit up the tapestry of stars before drawing its first breath. The collapse of the heavenly body halted the expansion of the universe, as the cosmos watched carefully what was created in the stars wake.
Filled with curiosity and excitement, the star took to Lucifer’s nature.
“Morningstar! You must eat this fruit!”
[Y/N] beamed, her excitement contagious as her lips stretched into smile, thrusting the fruit into the angels hand.
Lucifer laughs softly, the sound bright as struck glass, and he cups her hands around the fruit instead of taking it.
“Little star, this is not for me.”
“But I picked it for you,” she insists, earnest and stubborn in a way only beings born from stardust can be. Her fingertips glow faintly where they brush his.
When she placed the fruit into Lucifer’s open hand, the universe stirred. It was subtle at first—a faint, shimmering pulse beneath the skin of the fruit, like a whisper of something ancient breathing for the first time in thousands of years. Lucifer felt it immediately. Every angelic instinct sharpened. The warmth was wrong. Too alive. Too familiar.
It was the kind of heat only celestial bodies carried: the heat of collapsing stars, the heat of creation at its most violent and beautiful. And somehow… she was holding it as if it were nothing more than a pretty trinket she found in the grass.
Lucifer’s brows dipped, but she didn’t see it. She was still smiling at him, her expression open and trusting, as though she hadn’t just handed him something that should have burned her mortal bones to ash. Her fingertips still thrummed with the same residual glow as the fruit—soft, white-gold light that curled under her skin in delicate threads, faint but unmistakable.
A star’s signature.
Her signature.
Lucifer’s fingers tightened ever so slightly around the fruit, testing its weight. It responded to him instantly, the glow brightening in gentle spirals, as though recognizing a sibling of the same celestial lineage. He felt the echo of the star she had been born from—its death, its birth, its collapse, its scream. That same resonance now lived in her veins.
This was no ordinary garden fruit.
It was a remnant of her creation.
“This…” Lucifer murmured, unable to keep the tension from his voice. “When did you find it?”
She blinked, surprised at his tone. Her small shoulders lifted in a soft shrug. “Just now. It called to me.”
Her eyes shone with an innocence he couldn’t reconcile with the danger humming between their hands. She stepped closer without thinking, her hair catching the morning light like threads of molten dawn. “Like you do.”
Lucifer froze.
Her words were gentle. Effortless. Completely unaware of how catastrophic they sounded to an angel who knew the rules carved into Heaven long before she existed. No human should be capable of hearing the call of creation the way she did. No human should feel drawn to celestial things—much less to an angel himself.
She didn’t know it, but those few, simple words were a confession of something forbidden. Something Heaven had outlawed. Something Heaven feared.
Because the fruit only called to one kind of soul:
A soul capable of bending the divine order.
A soul meant to change fate.
A soul born wrong… or born necessary.
Lucifer’s gaze drifted from her face to the fruit and then to the sky. Something rippled through the air, cold and sharp as a blade drawn in a silent cathedral. A stillness fell over the orchard. The leaves stopped moving. Even the sun seemed to dim, just slightly, as though watching.
The High Seraphim had felt it.
Lucifer felt them stir—their attention turning, their ancient eyes narrowing from afar. Their judgment pressed against the edges of reality, subtle but suffocating, like a door to something holy cracking open just an inch.
They had noticed her.
Not the fruit.
Her.
A human touching celestial energy without perishing.
A human offering it to an angel as a gift.
A human who resonated with it instead of recoiling.
And an angel who hesitated only because he was afraid for her—never for himself.
That was enough.
More than enough.
From beyond mortal sight, a thin lattice of golden script appeared in the air for an instant, weaving itself around her like a crown and a warning at once. Lucifer’s breath caught when he saw it, a soft flaring ring of light that blinked into existence and then vanished as though swallowed.
A mark.
Heaven had marked her.
Not as guilty.
Not yet.
But as dangerous.
Unpredictable.
A variable capable of altering what was meant to remain untouched.
She didn’t sense any of it. She only tilted her head, puzzled by Lucifer’s strange silence.
“Did I pick the wrong one?” she asked softly. “I just thought… it was pretty.”
Lucifer swallowed against the weight pressing around them, the unseen stares, the judgment already forming in places she could not even imagine existed.
“No,” he said, and though he tried to keep his voice steady, the edges trembled. “You picked something far more complicated than you realize.”
Her smile faltered. Concern replaced it. She reached out as though to take the fruit back, but he gently pulled it away before her fingers could touch it again, afraid Heaven would detect even more resonance if she held it longer.
The orchard felt colder. Smaller. Watched.
Without thinking, Lucifer took a step forward, shielding her subtly with his body—as though he could hide her from something as omniscient as Heaven.
But he tried anyway.
Because this was the moment her fate shifted.
Not because she sinned.
Not because she knew.
Not because she meant to break anything.
But because of what she could do.
Because of what she would do.
Because she was born from the ashes of a star that dared to burn too brightly.
Heaven had seen her potential, and that was enough to place her on a path she couldn’t yet understand—a path that would end in punishment, death, and reincarnation.
A path Lucifer suddenly, desperately wished he could change.
But fate, once awakened, never goes back to sleep.
The orchard dissolves—not for her, not for Lucifer—but for the ones who have always watched from above.
In the highest tier of Heaven, where the air is warm with creation’s first breath and the floor gleams with reflected starlight, something disturbs the perpetual stillness. A single ripple moves across the mirrored surface—subtle at first, like a soft vibration felt beneath the skin rather than seen.
Ripples in this place normally die quietly.
This one grows.
The chamber brightens, halos tilting as though tracking the disturbance, and tall silhouettes step out of the glowing walls. Their wings unfurl in slow sweeps, each feather edged in light so sharp it could cut reality if they willed it. Some have six wings, some eight, some dozens—configurations only Heaven is permitted to understand.
The Watchers gather.
No one speaks.
Angels don’t need to—not here. Thought passes like warmth. Intention moves like wind. Silence is simply the most efficient language.
But today, the silence becomes something thick, viscous, almost suffocating.
Something is wrong.
Then the air itself changes pressure.
A column of white-gold light spears downward from the unseen heights, twisting around itself in a spiraling descent. It touches the floor with a soft, ringing note—like metal being set gently on stone. The glow collapses inward, folding into a figure.
Sera is standing there.
Her presence instantly organizes the room.
Wings straighten.
Halos dim.
The ripple stills as if bowing to her.
Six white wings open behind her, the feathers arranged so precisely they look carved rather than grown. The tips glow faintly with a soft, simmering gold. Her face is calm, but not gentle—measured, focused, forged in command.
“Show me,” she says.
She doesn’t raise her voice. She doesn’t need to.
The mirrored floor swells with light, sharpening like an eye focusing. The orchard blooms across the surface—Lucifer and the girl, frozen in a moment of innocent offering, the forbidden fruit glowing delicately in Lucifer’s hand. The light from the fruit paints her with soft illumination, making her look even more starborn than she realizes.
Sera’s gaze doesn’t waver.
“She does not know what she carries,” one of the Watchers murmurs.
“None of them ever do,” another replies.
Sera remains silent, studying the girl with the patience of a surgeon and the scrutiny of a scientist dissecting a miracle.
“Another anomaly,” a Seraph says, voice bending unnaturally, layered like a chord instead of a single note.
Sera finally speaks.
“Not an anomaly.”
She steps forward, so close the reflected orchard light glows across her face.
“An echo.”
The word settles heavy and cold.
Below, the girl laughs softly at something Lucifer murmurs to her—small, human, bright. The kind of sound Heaven was designed to protect, nurture, and adore.
Yet it makes several Seraphs tense
“She touched celestial matter,” one observes.
“She resonated with it,” another adds, wings shifting in concern.
“She offered it,” says a third.
“And Morningstar accepted,” the last concludes.
This time, the chamber does not merely tense.
It hardens.
Lucifer’s choices are rarely harmless.
Lucifer’s curiosity is rarely without consequence.
Lucifer’s affection—if this is affection—has never ended quietly.
Sera’s jaw tightens just slightly. Enough to be noticed only by the few who have served under her long enough to notice such things.
“She is the fourth,” one Seraph reminds the room. “Adam, Eve, Lilith… and now this one.”
The girl turns in the reflection, smiling up at Lucifer without the slightest hint of fear. If the celestial fruit worries her, she hides it well.
“There is something inside her that does not belong to us,” another Seraph says. “Something unshaped. Uncontained.”
“She did not come from His decree,” a third murmurs. “Something else birthed her.”
“Something violent,” a fourth adds. “Something cosmic.”
Sera kneels at the edge of the mirrored pool, observing the girl more closely. Her reflection ripples beneath Sera’s touch, but the image sharpens rather than distorts.
“She was born from the collapse of a star,” Sera says quietly. “Creation born in the moment of destruction. She carries the residue still.”
One Seraph flinches—a tiny twitch of a wing.
“Then she is dangerous.”
Sera shakes her head once.
“She is potential.”
The word is almost worse.
Potential is unpredictable.
Potential does not follow rules.
Potential ruins systems.
A younger Seraph edges forward. “What should be done?”
“Intervene?” another suggests.
“Remove her?” whispers a third.
Sera stands.
“No intervention. Not yet.”
The quiet uproar of unspoken thought rolls through the chamber, but no one dares contradict her.
“We observe,” she says. “We do not disrupt the path before it reveals itself.”
“And if she strays?” a voice asks.
“We guide her back.”
“And if she refuses?”
Sera takes a long breath—a deliberate act. The kind of breath reserved for decisions that shape centuries.
“Then we correct her course.”
Her tone is soft.
The judgment behind it is anything but.
She lifts one hand, palm open. The mirrored pool flares in response. Golden script begins forming around the girl’s reflected silhouette—thin, intricate lines weaving like a lace collar tightening around her throat.
The Mark settles on her soul.
A brand no mortal could ever see.
A warning no angel could ever ignore.
“What is her sin?” a Seraph finally asks.
Sera’s answer is simple. Steady.
“Her existence.”
The room absorbs that with heavy, suffocating quiet.
Below, the girl tilts her head and plucks a leaf from Lucifer’s hair, laughing softly. She has no idea that Heaven has just judged her. No idea that her fate has been etched into her soul. No idea that she has just been declared a threat.
“She was born from the death of a star,” one Seraph intones.
“And she will fall as stars fall,” says another.
“She will return,” comes a third.
“And return,” murmurs a fourth.
“Until she learns…”
“Until she bends…”
“Or until she breaks.”
One by one, wings fold. Halos dim. The chamber empties as the Watchers withdraw, satisfied—for now.
Only Sera remains.
She stands alone at the mirrored pool, staring down at the girl who unknowingly holds Lucifer’s attention in the palm of her hand.
The girl touches Lucifer’s wrist.
Lucifer leans in as if drawn.
The fruit glows a fraction brighter.
Sera closes her eyes.
“This will not end gently,” she whispers.
The Mark on the girl’s soul pulses faintly in agreement.
The garden beyond the orchard is still half-asleep when she finds them — the air cool enough to mist her breath, the sunlight slanting low and soft, filtering through leaves like powdered gold. The ground is warm where the first rays touch it, cold where the shadows cling stubbornly to the roots. Dew beads on every blade of grass, tiny suns trembling with each footstep she takes.
She parts a low curtain of flowering branches and steps into a familiar clearing.
Adam is exactly where he always is in the mornings: settled at the base of the fig tree with his legs folded neatly beneath him, shoulders straight but relaxed, sunlight collecting in his curls like sparks. He doesn’t need tools — he never has — yet he holds a thin piece of wood in one hand and shapes it with the other, coaxing form out of nothing with a kind of absentminded precision.
Eve lies on her stomach beside him, chin in her hands, feet kicking lazily in the air. Strands of her hair are spread over the grass like spilled ink, the ends catching light so deeply they almost look blue.
Lilith sits balanced on a low branch overhead, one knee pulled to her chest, her back straight and elegant. Movement stirs around her even when she’s still — leaves brushing her shoulders as though adoring her, the wind braiding itself through her hair. She hums something old and strange, a melody with no words and too many meanings.
The moment they see her, the little noises stop.
Three pairs of eyes — each too ancient, too knowing — lift to meet hers.
Lilith is the first to break the silence.
Her mouth curls into a sharp, warm grin.
“There she is. Morning star number four finally graces us.”
Eve springs upright with a delighted gasp. “I knew you’d come! I told Adam he worries too much.”
Adam scoffs under his breath without looking up. “I don’t worry. I observe. And what I observed was that she’s been sneaking out earlier and earlier.”
Lilith laughs, dropping lightly from the branch and landing beside the girl with a soft thump that ripples the grass. “He means he missed you.”
Adam finally lifts his gaze, unbothered. “Well. That too.”
The familiarity in their voices warms her like sunlight.
She didn’t realize how badly she needed something normal until this exact second.
Eve stands, brushing grass from her elbows, then reaches out and pulls the girl into a loose, affectionate embrace. She smells like crushed petals and morning air.
“We were starting without you,” Eve says. “Lilith says hawks are prettier than doves.”
Lilith places a hand over her heart dramatically. “Because they are. One is a poetic messenger, and one is a predator with perfect posture.”
Adam sighs deeply, as if this debate has lasted centuries — which it has. “Strength is not beauty.”
Lilith arches a brow. “Strength is the purest beauty.”
Eve nudges her. “You just want to be right.”
“As always,” Lilith replies breezily.
The girl laughs, tension easing from her shoulders. For a moment, she forgets about the mark hidden beneath her sleeve; the orchard’s fear; Lucifer’s sleepless eyes.
Adam leans forward, holding up the small bird carving. “Look. I gave this one wings longer than the last. I’m trying to get the lift correct.”
She takes it carefully. The wood is warm — Adam always leaves a bit of his grace in the things he shapes. The bird isn’t finished; one side of its face is still rough, and the feet are uneven.
“It’s beautiful,” she says softly.
Adam shrugs. “It will be. Eventually.”
Lilith huffs from behind them. “Don’t let him undersell it. He pretends he’s humble, but he’ll pout if you don’t keep it.”
The girl smiles. “Then I’ll keep it.”
Adam looks pleased in the quiet way he always is — the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly, his shoulders loosening.
Eve plops back onto the grass. “Since you’re finally here, we can go show you the grove we found yesterday. The one with the silver leaves. It’s almost glowing this morning.”
Lilith tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she studies the girl. “You really do look brighter today.”
Her heart stutters.
Is she seeing the mark?
Trying to sound casual, she asks, “Because of the orchard light?”
Lilith shakes her head. “No. It’s… you.”
Then she grins, defusing it. “Maybe you’re finally sleeping enough.”
Adam gives her a curious look. “You didn’t come back after evening prayers. We thought you stayed with the lower choir.”
“I… needed fresh air,” she lies smoothly
Eve hums sympathetically. “Everything feels tight lately, doesn’t it? Like the sky is pressing down.”
“Or like someone’s listening,” Lilith adds quietly.
That lands a little too close to truth.
Eve waves the comment away. “Come on. Let’s walk before the air warms too much.”
She pulls the girl by the hand, tugging her toward the path where silver grasses bend like silk. Adam falls into step beside them. Lilith trails behind, humming again, her voice threading through the breeze like a spell.
The scenery shifts as they walk — trees with pale blue bark, flowers that open only when footsteps approach, vines that curl just slightly toward warmth. This part of the Garden is older than the Orchard. Wilder. More honest.
Adam points to a cluster of star-shaped blossoms. “Eve discovered those yesterday. They close when sung to.
“You tried singing?” the girl asks, laughing.
Eve gives her a proud smile. “I always try singing first.”
“You also try dancing first,” Lilith calls from behind. “And climbing. And touching things the rest of us know not to touch.”
Eve flicks her hair back. “And I am alive to tell the tale, am I not?”
Lilith snorts. “Barely.”
The girl’s heart swells painfully with affection.
This is the life she knows.
The life she was meant to have.
A life they won’t know she loses.
They walk deeper into the grove — leaves shimmering above them like shards of starlight. Eve runs her fingers along the bark of a silver trunk.
“It feels peaceful here,” Eve whispers. “Like nothing bad could find us.”
Adam smiles faintly. “That’s because nothing ever does.”
Lilith, standing slightly behind the girl, leans in and murmurs, low enough only she can hear:
“But something is wrong with you, isn’t it?”
The girl freezes.
Lilith’s expression doesn’t change.
It isn’t accusing.
It’s concerned.
Oldest-sister concerned.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she says softly. “I’ll know when you’re ready.”
Then she steps away, joining Adam and Eve, letting the moment dissolve like smoke.
The girl exhales shakily, staring at the silver leaves trembling overhead.
Something about this place feels like a memory of peace she won’t have for long.
And she suddenly wishes she could hold the three of them close and freeze time right here — before Heaven notices, before Lucifer falls, before she dies for the first time.
But she smiles instead and follows them deeper into the grove.
Pretending — just for a little while — that she is still one of them.
They are deep in the grove by the time the sunlight begins to shift.
At first, it’s subtle enough that none of them notice—just a faint loosening of the shadows, the way the darkness between the trees thins as if someone is gently pulling threads of it apart. The path ahead warms slowly, touched by a gold that doesn’t belong to the hour. Eve pauses mid-step, head tilting upward as the leaves around them brighten on their undersides, catching the strange light as if dawn has decided to bloom from within the forest rather than from the sky.
Adam is the next to notice. He frowns, studying the shifting glow with a puzzled lift of his brow. “Strange time of day for the light to change,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
Lilith doesn’t break stride, but her lips curve with the faintest, sharpest knowing. “It’s not the sun,” she says softly, as though the forest has ears. As though it already knows who approaches.
The girl’s breath catches before she even turns. Her body recognizes the feeling before her mind does—a warmth rising through the air, a familiar pull tugging at her ribs, the sense of light bending behind her like metal to a magnet.
Then comes the sound.
Not footsteps—Lucifer has never truly walked. What reaches them is the whisper of grace moving through leaves, the faint hum of power brushing across the grass as though the forest itself draws breath in anticipation.
And then—
“Leaving me to wander alone?”
His voice slips between the trees, warm, amused, threaded with a gentleness he rarely lets others hear. It is unmistakably directed at her.
She turns.
Lucifer steps into the grove as if he belongs inside the glow he drags behind him. Light seems to weave itself into his arrival—petals brightening at his feet, branches lifting slightly as if to greet him. His wings are not fully unfurled, but open just enough that the tips glow with molten gold, casting soft halos over the clearing. His hair is tousled, wind-swept like he came quickly, faster than he should have. And his eyes—
His eyes soften the instant they land on her, the tension in his shoulders easing as though seeing her resets something inside him.
The tightness in her chest unravels without her permission, replaced by a warmth that blooms painfully and beautifully all at once.
Eve gasps, hands flying to her mouth in delight. “Lucifer! I knew the light felt different.”
Adam inclines his head in calm greeting. “Morningstar.”
Lilith only watches him—still, assessing, wearing a half-smile that isn’t warm but sharp with acknowledgement. She studies him the way one studies a portrait of a storm: beautiful, dangerous, inevitable.
Lucifer offers them a polite nod, nothing more.
But his attention returns to the girl with a focus that changes the air around them.
“You left early,” he says.
His tone is soft. Concern wrapped in silk, not reproach.
Her cheeks warm. “I was with them.”
“Mm.” His gaze traces her face, lingering with a depth that makes her pulse stutter. “I noticed.”
Eve lets out a tiny, delighted noise—not quite a squeal, but close.
“Oh Creator, the way you two look at each other—”
Adam clears his throat, firm but resigned. “Eve.”
“What? It’s sweet!”
The girl throws Eve a warning look; Eve returns it with a knowing grin that silently declares Finally.
Lilith crosses her arms. “He didn’t walk all the way into the silver grove for nothing.”
Lucifer, unapologetically: “No. I didn’t.”
The grove warms an entire degree.
Lucifer steps closer, reaching out to tuck a leaf from her hair. His touch is slow and reverent, fingers brushing a little too long, grazing the curve of her ear before falling away. Heat slides down her spine.
Lilith’s eyes narrow, not in hostility, but in sharp perception.
Eve elbows Adam. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”
“Yes, Eve,” Adam sighs. “You told me. Many times.”
The girl tries to compose herself. “We were just exploring. Lilith found a new path.”
Lilith lifts her brow, unbothered. “Don’t blame me. He would’ve found you no matter where I led you.”
Lucifer doesn’t deny it.
He simply watches her—tracing every shift in her expression, as if memorizing her all over again. When his eyes flick briefly to her wrist, she instinctively tugs her sleeve down.
Too late
He saw the faint flicker of the mark beneath the fabric.
Eve, oblivious, bounces forward and grabs her hand. “Let me braid your—”
Her fingers brush the marked skin.
A bolt of star-gold light bursts between them.
Eve jerks back with a startled yelp, shaking her hand. “Ow! What—what was that?!”
Adam steps forward instantly. “Are you injured?”
“No—just surprised.” Eve rubs her palm, blinking rapidly. “It felt like touching lightning. Why is she—why are you glowing?”
The girl’s mouth opens.
No sound comes out.
Lucifer is in front of her before she can blink. Not aggressive—protective. His arm blocks their view, his form angled between her and the others, his presence a shield she can feel down to her bones.
“It’s a passing resonance,” he says calmly. “Nothing dangerous.”
Adam frowns. “That wasn’t normal.
Lilith circles slowly, eyes sharp. “And not from her alone.”
Lucifer meets Lilith’s gaze.
Neither angel looks away.
The girl’s heart climbs into her throat.
Lucifer lays a steadying hand against the small of her back—barely touching her, yet grounding her completely. His voice drops. “We should go.”
Eve pouts. “But we just got here—”
A sound cuts her off.
A hum.
At first it blends with the breeze—low, soft, vibrating through the leaves like a whispered warning. Adam barely notices.
But Lilith freezes.
Her pupils shrink to pinpoints.
Lucifer’s wings snap wide in a single, violent motion.
The grove’s light shivers. The sky above them trembles like fabric pulled tight.
Adam whispers, “What is that?”
Lilith’s voice is deadly calm.
“A summons.”
Eve’s face drains of color. “For… for who?”
But the girl already knows.
The mark on her wrist erupts with heat—bright, merciless, searing like a waking star trying to break free of her skin.
Lucifer steps closer, placing himself fully in front of her.
His voice is a low, lethal command.
“Stay behind me.”
The hum deepens, vibrating through the ground.
The air thickens. Heavy. Watching.
Above them, ribbons of radiant script begin to weave through the sky—holy, sharp, impossibly bright. The letters form slowly, each stroke of divine fire spelling out a name she feels burning across her bones, echoing inside her chest with the force of thunder.
It isn’t written in any language spoken aloud.
It is written in power.
And it is calling for her
The pain lances down her arm, sharp enough to blur the world into streaks of white. Her throat tightens around a cry, but Lucifer’s hand steadies her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek in a way that grounds her to something warm and real.
“It hurts,” she whispers. “Lucifer, it— it feels like they’re pulling me apart.”
His expression fractures for a heartbeat. Not visibly — no, Lucifer does not break where others can see — but she feels the shift under her palms, the way his breath stutters. His wings flare wider, shaking loose a few golden feathers that drift to the ground like burning petals.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, voice low enough that Adam and Eve can’t hear the tremor tucked inside it. “Stay with me. Stay right here.”
The air shivers again, the summons tightening around her like a noose made of holy light. The trees groan under the pressure; the flowers bow their heads. Even the river nearby seems to hush, the water flattening into glass.
The grove knows Heaven is watching.
She sways, but Lucifer follows the motion instantly, as if he’s memorized the exact moment she’ll falter. His hand slips from her chin to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair. The warmth of him spreads through her like a shield, blocking out a sliver of Heaven’s pull.
Behind them, Adam’s face is white. Eve clutches his arm like a lifeline. Lilith, for once, has no sharp remark ready. Her dark eyes track the girl with something like alarm—no, something like recognition.
“Lucifer,” Lilith says slowly, “that mark… it’s not passive. It’s responing to them. It’s— it’s choosing.”
“It’s consuming,” Lucifer snaps, wings bristling. “Heaven is forcing its will where it no longer has the right.”
The girl gasps as another pulse surges through the mark, this one hot enough to burn through sleeve and skin alike, a brand trying to ignite. Her vision cracks into fragments of white fire.
“They’re calling the mark,” Adam says, voice tight.
“They’re calling her,” Lilith corrects.
Lucifer pulls the girl fully into his chest, one arm wrapped around her ribs, the other sliding under her knees as if he expects the next wave to take her legs out entirely. The movement is protective, instinctive — almost possessive.
Her forehead presses against the hollow of his throat. She feels his heartbeat: not steady, not calm, but racing with barely restrained panic.
“Lucifer…” Her voice is thin, trembling. “I can’t stop hearing it.”
He lowers his head until his lips brush her temple, a whisper of a touch meant for her alone. “Then listen to me instead.”
The summons booms again — her name unfolding through the grove like a decree, a command carved from pure authority. It surrounds them, invades them, threads itself through her bones.
Her whole body jolts.
Lucifer curses under his breath, something old and furious. His hand slides from her arm to press firmly over the blazing mark again. A warm glow answers him — not Heaven’s white flame, but his own gold, soft and protective.
For a breath, the pain falters.
Her fingers clutch his shoulders tightly, knuckles white. “It feels like they’re reaching inside me,” she chokes. “Like they’re trying to take soething—”
“They won’t touch you.” His voice is iron. “Not while I draw breath.”
A harsh wind rushes through the grove, cold as judgment. Leaves tear from branches and spin into a column of silver light forming above them.
Adam steps back. Eve hides behind him. Even Lilith retreats a single pace.
Lucifer does not.
He lifts her chin gently, forcing her to meet his eyes despite her blurring vision. Those eyes — molten gold, furious, afraid — lock onto hers with unwavering desperation.
“You’re not going to them,” he says, voice steadying with a resolve that shakes the air. “You are not.”
She swallows, breath ragged. “But I— I don’t know if I have a choice.”
His forehead comes to rest against hers. A soft, trembling touch. An intimacy he doesn’t allow himself often — not in front of witnesses, not in the open daylight of Eden, not when Heaven might be watching. But now he holds her as if nothing else matters.
As if the summons might rip her from his arms, and he needs her to feel him.
“You always have a choice,” he whispers.
Another surge crashes down — the strongest yet — and her body arches against him in agony.
Lucifer tightens his hold, wings snapping shut around them like a shield of blazing gold. The world outside dims. The wind stills. Heaven’s light is reduced to a distant glare.
Inside the cocoon of his wings, his voice drops to a fierce vow:
“I won’t let them take you. Not now. Not ever.”
Her breath stutters against his throat. “Lucifer… I’m scared.”
He pulls her closer — impossibly close — his lips brushing her brow in a soft, trembling kiss.
“I know,” he whispers. “And I swear—”
Another thunderous pulse cuts him off, the mark blazing bright enough to light the space even behind the barrier of his wings.
He holds her tighter, refusing to yield to the light clawing at her.
“—you won’t face them alone.”
And the grove waits, trembling, as Heaven calls again.
Calling her name a final time.
The light above the grove condenses.
What was once a wide, formless glow narrows into a single column — thin as a blade, bright enough to carve shadows into the ground. It descends slowly, deliberately, humming like a wire pulled taut.
Lucifer’s wings flare instinctively, feathers rattling with the impact of the pressure bearing down. The air turns heavy, every breath like swallowing frost.
Behind his wings, she trembles in his arms.
“Lucifer…” her voice is barely sound. “They’re here.”
“I know.” His jaw locks, muscles coiled like he’s preparing to fight something intangible.
The column of light stops a few feet above the ground, suspended. The grove falls into complete silence — even the river halts, the surface flat as polished glass.
Then comes the voice.
Not a summons. Not an echo of Heaven.
A speaker.
“CHILD.”
The word isn’t shouted. It doesn’t need to be. It rolls through the grove like thunder breaking inside a cathedral, vibrating through stone and bark and bone.
Lucifer flinches — not from fear, but fury.
She stiffens in his arms, breath hitching, the burning mark on her arm pulsing so violently it throws weak sparks through the fabric of her sleeve.
“No,” Lucifer growls, wings tightening around her. “You do not speak to her directly.”
The light flickers — almost amused.
“YOU WOULD STAND BETWEEN HEAVEN AND WHAT BELONGS TO HEAVEN.”
“She doesn’t belong to you.” His voice is low and lethal. “She never did.”
Adam and Eve collapse to their knees, hands over their heads. Lilith, trembling despite herself, stays on her feet but barely, knuckles white where her fingers dig into a branch behind her.
The voice ignores Lucifer, addressing the girl again.
“YOU HAVE BEEN CALLED. YOU WILL ANSWER.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pressure grinding inside her chest. “I don’t… I don’t understand why. What do you want from me?”
The light sharpens, a spear pressed against the air.
“COME FORTH CHILD.”
Lucifer snarls. “She can’t. She won’t.”
The light turns on him now, brightness bending like a gaze.
“YOU SPEAK WITHOUT AUTHORITY MORNINGSTAR.”
“And you act without mercy.”
A dangerous silence follows.
Then, softer, the voice speaks to her.
“WE FEEL WHAT YOU CARRY.”
Lucifer stiffens.
The girl’s stomach twists. “What I… carry?”
The next words come colder than ice:
“THE TOUCH THAT IS NOT OURS.”
The mark on her arm explodes with heat.
A raw, strangled sound breaks from her throat as she doubles forward, clutching Lucifer tighter, her body shaking violently. He catches her, hands trembling where they hold her up.
“Stop!” Lucifer’s voice cracks like a whip. “You’re hurting her—”
“YOU BEAR A STAIN.”
“That ‘stain’ is your doing,” Lucifer spits. “You marked her.”
“NOT THIS.”
The light flares, white-hot.
“THIS COUNTERMARK IS FORBIDDEN. SHE WAS DEFECTED SINCE HER CREATION."
Countermark. Defected.
Lucifer goes still.
Eve peeks through her fingers. Adam lifts his head, confused. Lilith’s eyes widen in slow understanding.
The girl swallows, voice barely a thread. “Countermark…? What does—”
Her breath catches as realization sinks in.
The warmth she feels when Lucifer touches her wrist. The way Heaven’s summons dims. The glow that is not white, but gold.
She looks up at him
He will not meet her eyes.
Not yet.
Not with the light watching.
But his silence answers everything.
The voice resonates again:
“YOU HAVE BEEN MARKED BY HIM AND THE STARS FROM WHICH YOU BEGOT."
Not a question.
A judgment.
Lucifer steps forward, shielding her fully with his body. “She didn’t choose it.”
“But you did,” the voice answers.
“AND FOR THIS, SHE WILL RETURN TO US.”
Lucifer’s wings spread wide, blazing like fallen sunlight. “You will not take her.”
The light seems to consider him, humming, pulsing.
Then:
“IF SHE WILL NOT COME, SHE WILL BE REMADE.”
Her heart stops.
Remade.
Lucifer’s entire body tenses. “No.”
“HER MEMORY WILL BE ERASED. HER FORM RECAST. HER BOND TO YOU — SEVERED.”
The girl’s breath shatters. “Lucifer—”
He cups her face instantly, his hands cradling her like she’s something delicate and breaking. His forehead presses against hers again, but this time his breathing is unsteady, shaken.
“No. Don’t listen. Don’t be afraid.”
Her fingers curl into his shirt. “They’re going to take everything from me.”
“No.” His voice fractures. “I won’t let them.”
The light brightens, rising like a blade.
“THIS IS DECIDED.”
Lucifer’s wings clamp around her, desperate, protective, trembling.
“Lucifer,” she whispers, tears gathering in her lashes, “I don’t want to forget you.”
Something inside him breaks — audibly, painfully — in the quiet space beneath his wings.
For the first time, Lucifer’s voice fails him.
He can only hold her tighter.
Above them, the light prepares to strike.
It hurts,” she whispers. “Lucifer, it— it feels like—”
“Like they’re trying to rewrite you.”
His voice is low, furious, almost shaking.
“Stay with me. Stay—”
But Heaven does not wait.
The sky doesn’t open — it splits, a seam of blinding white tearing across the canopy. The grove trembles, branches curling inward like they’re shielding their own hearts. Every leaf flips silver-side up. Eve cries out and throws her hands over her ears. Adam pulls her behind him. Even Lilith, unflinching as she is, takes one careful step back.
A column of light slams down before them.
Not gentle.
Not holy.
An executioner’s blade made of radiance.
Lucifer reacts instantly.
His wings snap wide, arching around the girl like a storm-shelter, feathers turning gold-hot as they intercept the first strike. The impact shakes him backward — actually forces him down to one knee — but he does not loosen his hold.
“NO,” he snarls upward, voice ripping through the grove. “YOU DO NOT TOUCH HER.”
The light crashes harder.
She feels the shock through his arms, a tremor that travels straight into her bones. His feathers burn brighter, cracking along the edges as the holy fire sears them.
“Lucifer—” she rasps, panic scraping her throat raw. “Your wings—”
“Let them burn,” he grits. “I won’t let them take you.”
But Heaven is not simply striking.
Heaven is reaching.
The beam twists, narrowing, sharpening, thinning into a thread of blinding white that writhes toward her wrist — toward the mark — like a serpent seeking its branded prey.
She screams as the mark ignites.
Lucifer’s grip tightens around her waist. “I’ve got you— I’ve got you—”
The light hits him again.
This time it throws him backward.
His shoulder slams against a tree, bark exploding around them, but he does not drop her — he wraps himself tighter, wings folding into a cocoon around her body.
“Lucifer!” Eve cries desperately. “They’re going to— they’re going to take her!”
Adam pulls her back. “Don’t get closer, Eve, you’ll be blinded—”
Lilith watches with a terrible, grave stillness. “This isn’t a summons,” she murmurs. “This is retrieval.”
Lucifer tries to push to his feet again—
But then everything stops.
The air goes silent.
The beam thins to a point.
The pain in her wrist becomes clean, sharp, surgical.
A single word is spoken — not in sound, but in force.
Her body jerks as if hooked from the inside.
“No—” Lucifer breathes, eyes widening in raw horror. “No, no— DON’T YOU DARE—”
He lunges forward, arms clamped around her.
But the light has her now.
It yanks her upward so violently her feet leave the ground — then her knees, then her hips — her entire body pulled like a ragdoll toward the sky. Lucifer clings to her waist, digging his fingers into her as if he could anchor her to the earth.
“LET HER GO!” he roars at the heavens, voice cracking, fracturing into something ancient and agonized. “SHE IS NOT YOURS!”
The light answers with a pulse that knocks Adam and Eve to the ground, forces Lilith to shield her eyes—
—and tears Lucifer’s hold loose.
Just for a split second.
Just long enough.
Her fingers slip from his.
Lucifer’s face shatters — something breaking behind his eyes as the light drags her upward, lifting her into the air, higher, higher—
“LUCIFER!” she screams, reaching for him, reaching for anything—
He leaps, wings beating hard enough to scorch the branches—
The light that swallowed her doesn’t simply carry her upward — it stretches her thin, pulls her consciousness apart like silk unraveling, reducing thought into threads, memory into dust. Her name scatters first. Then her body. Then every moment she ever lived beside him.
Lucifer’s voice echoes somewhere behind her, distant as a dream being erased.
“COME BACK TO ME!”
But the light dims his voice until even grief becomes faint.
Something colder replaces it.
A whisper not spoken but embedded in her soul, folding around what remains.
You will return.
You will return again.
And again.
Until he learns.
Until Lucifer learns.
A punishment born of Heaven’s pride.
A punishment carved into her instead of him.
Her soul, stripped of shape, is pressed into something new — squeezed into a fragile, mortal form like pouring starlight into clay.
Her heart forms.
Her lungs.
Her bones.
And then—
First breath.
Not in Eden’s orchards.
But in a small, dim room filled with the scent of old wood and warm milk. A midwife murmurs encouragement. A mother sobs in exhausted joy. Someone wraps her in fabric coarse and unfamiliar.
The world is smaller now.
Heavier.
Mortal.
Her newborn eyes open — unfocused, overwhelmed, blinking against the muted light.
She remembers nothing.
Not her wings.
Not her grove.
Not the warmth of Lucifer’s hands or the taste of his name on her lips.
Her first life ends the moment it begins.
And far above, where Heaven’s light once dragged her from the world
Lucifer stands in the grove, breathing like something wounded.
The place where she was taken still crackles with fading gold.
His wings hang half-burned, feathers charred, edges blistered from intercepting Heaven’s touch. He doesn’t feel the pain. Not really. Not compared to the hollow where she should be.
Lilith watches him from a distance, eyes unreadable.
Adam and Eve cling to each other, whispering prayers too small to matter.
Lucifer stares at the empty air, his voice barely a breath:
“Where did you take her…”
No angel answers.
No light descends.
Only silence — the silence of a divine punishment that has already begun.
He lifts a trembling hand to his chest, fingertips brushing the place he last felt her weight. His throat tightens.
“I will find you,” he vows, voice cracking, breaking in ways Heaven has never heard from him.
“I will find every version of you. Every life they force you into. I will not let you be lost to them.”
But the wind answers coldly, as if mocking him.
Because he doesn’t know—
She has already been reborn.
A small mortal child, with wide eyes and no memory of him, sleeps against her mother’s chest. A tiny fist curls unconsciously around the air, reaching for someone she doesn’t know she misses.
Not yet.
Not in this life.
But the mark burned into her soul answers faintly — a tiny spark, nothing more.
Waiting for him.
Waiting for tragedy.
Waiting for the cycle to begin again.
Her punishment has only started.
And Lucifer’s grief will become his downfall.
The world has changed since that first grove.
She doesn’t remember the orchards. She doesn’t remember Lucifer’s touch, the weight of his wings around her, or the agony of being torn from him. Every life starts fresh, each time a little more mortal, a little less starborn, a little more fragmented. Yet the pulse of that mark — faint, hidden deep in her soul — remains. Like a whisper she can’t hear, a rhythm she can’t follow, a name she can’t speak.
By now, she has lived countless lives, each one shorter than the last, each one further removed from him. Heaven’s punishment is patient, precise, cruel: fragmenting her existence while sharpening his obsession. And in the aftermath of season 1 of Hazbin Hotel, she exists again — not as the radiant starborn of the orchards, not as the anomaly Lucifer once held close, but as a mortal-turned-immortal trapped in Hell’s neon glow, a soul caught in a cycle she cannot remember.
Lucifer has changed too. He is no longer the pure Morningstar, the angel who could stride into orchards of creation unchallenged. He has fallen. He has rebelled. He has become a creature of his own defiance, a being whose grief and longing for her echo through the corners of Hell. And even now, he searches — endlessly, obsessively, in every realm where her soul might touch the material.
From the moment she is reborn in the mortal world, something lingers. Not quite a feeling, not quite a memory, but a subtle pressure at the edge of her awareness — a warmth in the air, a shimmer in the corner of her vision, a sense of being watched, carefully, intimately, but never intrusively.
Lucifer never speaks. Never touches. Never breaks the fragile illusion of her new life.
In her earliest mortal memories, she notices him in the streets before she even recognizes what “seeing” truly means. A stranger at the market whose eyes linger a little too long, warm and golden. A shadow moving along the rooftops when she passes beneath, just for a heartbeat. A figure in the crowd whose presence stirs something deep in her chest, inexplicable and unplaceable.
Each life, he adapts. Sometimes he is closer — a teacher whose eyes always find her in class, a patron at a crowded tavern, a man whose path coincidentally crosses hers at just the right moment. Other times, he is more subtle — a gust of wind against her cheek, a stray feather drifting past, a fleeting warmth brushing her hand when she doesn’t see it.
He waits, always waiting, silently building the connection she cannot remember. In every incarnation, he traces her life without breaking the rules of her punishment, letting her grow, stumble, live — yet never letting her truly forget the feeling of him.
Even when she feels loss or longing, she cannot place its source. A small ache in her chest, the faintest whisper at the back of her mind, the inexplicable certainty that someone — something — is looking out for her. That is him.
And he suffers quietly in parallel. Watching her live, laugh, cry, love, and die without ever letting her know who he is. Every life ends the same: a fleeting moment of recognition, a spark of his presence, and then her disappearance into the hands of Heaven’s cruel cycle.
Yet he never wavers. Each life, he remembers. Every life, he searches. Every life, he waits.
Because one day, the cycle will break. One day, he will take her hand, and the world will remember what Heaven tried so desperately to erase. Until then, he is the shadow that follows, the warmth she can’t name, the quiet guardian she feels but never sees
Lucifer never sleeps — or so they say. But you find him one night, slumped across a piano, face pressed against unfinished sheet music. His fingers ghosted over the keys the way a fallen angel might touch the gates he once walked through; reverent, aching, almost afraid. A single note hummed under his touch, trembling like a memory he hadn’t forgiven himself for. The melody written there is hauntingly human. When his eyes open, he smiles —too gently for the King of Hell.
You stepped closer, drawn by something holy in the way he breathed.
“Don’t tell anyone I still dream,” he whispers, “they’d call it weakness.”
lady with the butterfly necklace in the portrait [part one]
[summary: angel asks about the portrait of a woman in the hallway]
[warning: angst: mentions of death]
Lucifer at the portrait in the lobby of the hotel. Staring longingly at the woman in the portrait, her [hair length] hair and [e/c] eyes. She was absolutely gorgeous he felt a twinge of pain, as he reached out towards the portrait. How his heart ached, as he placed his hand on the portrait.
Her smile could light up any room, and make anyone smile. She was beautiful, the butterfly necklace wrapped around her neck. Her smile her portrait, portrayed her with grace and poise.
Angel looked towards Lucifer, as he stared at the portrait “You’ve been gawking at the portrait for minutes?” He said, walking up behind him causing the king of Hell to glance over at him.
“Who’s that?” asked Angel, curiously as he liked this popsicle. Lucifer smiled softly reminiscing on the good times he spent with her, “She was my wife,” said Lucifer, his smile faltering the pain in his chest unbearable.
Angel looked at the portrait, of the lady. A young Charlie sat on her lap, smiling. A butterfly hair clip in her hair. Lucifer stood beside his wife and daughter, smiling.
Angel looked at him and folded his arms across his chest, “Where is she now?” He asked, blatantly.
Lucifer eyes lowered to the ground, fixated. He looked slowly back up at the portrait, he missed her so much that it hurt. He should’ve stopped her, he should’ve protected her. He should’ve been a better husband.
Angel figured it out by the silence, and had an inkling that she was no longer with us. Yet, his blatant curiosity and slight being noisy got the better of him. Force of habit.
“She was amazing, loving, kind, i see as much as her in Charlie as much as I see myself.” He said, and Charlie looked at him sadly. She vaguely remembered that how her father, completely broke down.
“S-She..” He shuddered, looking down using his cane to support himself. He still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The look of horror and sadness plastered on his face. When he opened the door, and a sinner demon was holding the lifeless body of their queen.
His wife
His partner
He stared at the floor for a moment, as tears threatened to brim his eyes. “There was a knock at the door,”He said, looking back up at the others.
Her wings torn from her body and stained with, gold ichor. She looked peaceful and had a faint smile, on her lips. Her body covered in scratches and cut. A slash around her neck, stared blankly and took her body into his arms.
His eyes turned into slits and the sinner demon bowed, and apologized for his loss. “S-She told me to tell you to take care of Charlie for me, and that she loves you two more than anything.” The demon said, sadly and Lucifer just stood there emotionless.
He didn’t notice Charlie rubbing her eyes, as she walked up behind him. Wondering what her father was doing at the front door, until she noticed. “Mama?” said Charlie, curiously. Lucifer world seemed to spin, how much more can Heaven take from him. His wife and unborn child was gone.
“She died protecting what few sinners she could,” He said, clearing his throat. “She was pregnant,” He shuddered, placing his hand over his mouth and dragging it downward. Angel looked at him sadly, almost regretting having asked the question entirely.
Angel seethed his teeth, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to-” said Angel, but was interrupted by Lucifer.
Lucifer shook his head, “No, it’s okay, it happened awhile ago.” He said, even though it was true it happened ninety years ago. The memory was still fresh and it felt like it happened yesterday.
There were nights he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. Still missing the warmth of his beloved of his partner, her laughter that used to wake him up every morning as Charlie leaped into their bed. Her absolute beautiful singing voice, and how the rare butterflies of hell would flock to her. As if she was their queen.
“S-She sounds amazing,” said Angel, as he looked at the portrait, and a smile grew across Lucifer’s lips. “Yeah, she was.” said Lucifer, as he gripped the ring around his neck being held by a chain.
A duck swam towards the edge of the pond in Heaven, there sat a woman humming to herself. A scar around her neck as she began to feed the ducks. She giggled, as one flapped its wings at the sight of the bread. She lifted her head revealing her [e/c] eyes.
↳˳⸙;; ❝ WINE OF THE MORNINGSTARᵕ̈ ೫˚∗—LUCIFER MAGNE
synopsis— On a quiet balcony in hell, Lucifer confess how the reader makes life feel worth it.
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱synkisz notes first real post on the new account… also fr why is there NO lucifer x reader. like did we all watch the new ep or what???? like helllllloooo😍😍 daddy smite ME!
THE BALCONY WAS MADE OF LAUGHTER AND GOLD— OR MAYBE JUST THE MEMORY OF BOTH. From up here, Hell looked almost beautiful: a sea of scarlet lights trembling beneath the fog, like the world had stolen Heaven’s embers and forgotten why.
Lucifer stood at the edge, coat fluttering in the sulfur-sweet wind, glass in hand. The wine shimmered darkly — not quite red, not quite black. You wondered if it was blood, or regret, or both.
He didn’t turn when you stepped outside. He never did.
“You mortals,” he began, his tone light and theatrical, “have the most dreadful timing. Always arriving when I’m trying to feel tragic and poetic.”
You leaned against the railing beside him. “You sound plenty poetic already,” a smile graced your lips.
He smiled at that — not the showman’s grin you saw in the ballroom, but something quieter. The kind of smile that carried centuries in its corners.
“Careful, darling,” he murmured, swirling the glass, “flattery is a sin down here.”
“Then why keep pouring it?” you asked, nodding toward the untouched second glass beside him. Your gaze meet his vermillion eyes as light danced in them, attempting to hide his sorrow.
That made him pause. The air between you shifted — the silence turning heavy and almost holy. He looked down at the glass, fingers tracing the rim like it was a relic.
“Old habits,” he said softly. “I used to share it. With someone who believed I could still be saved.”
He heaved a heavy sigh, casting his gaze off into the city below, the scarlet hue drenching his face. Contemplation glazed over his face as he stared into hell, his mind swirling with memories that he buried deep down.
You didn’t ask who. You didn’t need to.
Instead, you took the second glass and lifted it between you both, the liquid reflecting the lights, regret, and untold memories that have yet to be unburied.
“To what, then?” you asked. A simple question yet, it held the weight of the world.
Lucifer looked at you — truly looked. In his eyes, galaxies burned the color of lost prayers. The birth of galaxies, cillizations, the fall of empires, rested in his vermillion eyes. His smile returned, brighter now, but gentler too.
“To damnation,” he said. Then, softer:
“And the beautiful fools who make it bearable.”
The glasses touched. The wine burned like light going down. It was sweet, heavy with smoke and some faint taste of sunlight — a flavor you couldn’t name but felt you’d been missing all your life. Lucifer drank it like it was the last prayer he’d ever allow himself.
The wind shifted, brushing against your skin like warm breath. Somewhere far below, the city hummed — neon and chaos, laughter spilling out from the hotel ballroom. But up here, it was just the two of you, perched between ruin and eternity.
He set his glass down with a sigh too human for a king.
“Do you ever wonder,” he asked quietly, “if Heaven still dreams about us?” His eyes lowered, his face now bearing an unreadable expression. If you looked hard enough, a sliver of hope appeared across his ridden face.
You blinked. “You mean— about you?”
He chuckled — a low, rich sound, but it carried no mirth.
“Oh, they stopped dreaming about me long ago, dear. But you… mortals have a habit of turning divinity into mirrors. You build gods in your image, pray to yourselves, then curse the reflection when it disappoints you.”
His gaze drifted out over the skyline, the faint red glow painting gold across his cheekbones. In that light, he didn’t look like a devil at all. He looked like what Heaven must’ve lost.
Lucifer was an angel, a beautiful, glorious angel. An ethereal being that feeble human minds couldn’t ever bare to comprehend. Made in his father’s image; he was the favorite, incomprehensible to mortals.
Now fallen , his beauty remained the same, diminished of course, but that ethereal aura that enveloped him like the morning sun was ever lasting. But even as a devil, he looked more human that ever.
You wanted to say something — to reach for him, maybe — but the words stayed tangled somewhere in your throat. Lucifer must have noticed, because he smiled, softer this time, less a performance and more a confession.
“You think me tragic,” he said, “but truth be told, I adore it. There’s something delicious about playing the villain in a story that never ends. It’s almost romantic, don’t you think?”
“Romantic,” you echoed. “In a lonely kind of way.”
He tilted his head, amused. “Lonely?” His grin flickered, fading at the edges. “Oh, darling. Loneliness is the oldest luxury I own.”
He lifted the bottle again, poured what was left into your glass. The liquid glimmered faintly, catching the starlight that wasn’t supposed to exist in Hell.
“Here,” he said. “Drink up. Let it remind you that even damnation can taste divine if you share it with the right sinner.”
You raised your glass, and as it touched your lips, the warmth spread through you — slow, steady, dangerous. His eyes lingered on you, sharp and endless, the kind of gaze that could make angels turn away.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Lucifer leaned in, voice low enough to stir the air between you.
“Careful, my dear,” he whispered, “Hell remembers everyone who makes me feel alive.”
And in the flicker of his smile — bright, tired, infinite — you realized he wasn’t warning you.
He was promising you.
The city below glowed like molten jewels, smoke and light twisting together into a restless sea of red and gold. Up here, on the hotel balcony, the air was cooler, tinged with a faint scent of brimstone and something faintly floral — perhaps a memory of Heaven left behind. Lucifer leaned on the wrought-iron railing, fingers tracing the rim of his glass absentmindedly. The wine caught the glow of the city, flickering like a miniature sunset trapped in crystal.
“Sometimes,” he murmured, eyes distant, “I forget I’m supposed to have all the answers. Supposed to be untouchable.”
You tilted your head, feeling the faint breeze brush your hair across your face. “And… are you?”
He let out a soft, humorless laugh that rumbled like distant thunder. “Not even close. Not anymore. But then, maybe that’s the point.” His gaze drifted over the horizon, where Hell’s fires blurred into night, painting the clouds in bruised reds and purples.
“Charlie… she’s the only thing that makes me think I’m not completely lost,” he continued, voice softer now. “She has this… insistence about her. Like she refuses to believe in finality. It’s infuriating. And comforting all at once.”
You shifted slightly closer, the warmth of the balcony’s stone cold under your fingertips, letting the quiet stretch between you. “And Lilith?”
Lucifer’s eyes darkened for a moment, a flicker of memory passing across his face. “Lilith… she was light. Bright, dangerous light. I loved her in a way I didn’t know was possible. And I still feel it sometimes — not in a way that hurts, but like a memory keeping me honest.”
You studied him carefully. “And you? Do you ever let yourself… hope?”
His gold eyes met yours, glowing faintly in the city’s red reflection. He leaned slightly on the railing, elbows resting against cold iron, and exhaled slowly. “I’m learning,” he admitted. “Hope doesn’t belong only to the pure, or the forgiven. Sometimes it belongs to the ones willing to take a risk… even if the risk is losing everything.”
He paused, and for a heartbeat, you noticed the tiniest shift in his posture — a subtle tilt of his head, the faintest curve of his lips. “You… you make it feel worth it,” he said, almost shyly, and the words hung in the night like delicate fireflies.
A quiet gust of wind carried the distant hum of the hotel below, laughter and music barely reaching your ears. For a moment, the world beyond the balcony seemed to vanish entirely. Lucifer wasn’t a king, a villain, or even the Morningstar — just a man, fragile and brilliant, daring to trust someone enough to let them see him as he was.
He looked at you then, really looked, and you could feel the weight of centuries in his gaze. There was curiosity there, yes — the kind of curiosity that comes from finally encountering someone who refuses to be dazzled by power, fame, or fear. But beneath it was something deeper: admiration.
He admired the way you carried yourself, quiet yet unwavering in the chaos of Hell. The way your eyes didn’t flinch when you met his, the way your presence seemed to draw warmth and light even from the darkness he had wrapped himself in for so long. He noticed the smallest things: the tilt of your chin when you listened, the way you moved through the world without pretending to be something you’re not.
For Lucifer, it was dizzying and unfamiliar to care so completely. He was used to commanding attention, bending people to his will, performing his grand theatrics — but with you, he didn’t have to perform. He could simply be. And that… terrified him.
He felt a fragile, almost dangerous affection stirring in his chest. Not desire, not the flames of passion — something far subtler, yet infinitely more profound: a yearning to protect you, to understand you, to be worthy of your attention. Every laugh you offered, every quiet question, every subtle observation made him feel… alive in a way he hadn’t allowed himself in centuries.
He realized he trusted you. Not fully, perhaps, but enough to let the mask slip, to let his vulnerability show in the tilt of his head, in the softness of his voice. And that trust, rare as it was, made him feel an unfamiliar warmth — a hope he hadn’t dared to name until now.
“You… change things,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You make it possible to imagine… that even someone like me could belong somewhere. That maybe… I could belong with someone like you.”
He let the words linger in the night air, heavy with sincerity, with longing, with the quiet thrill of something dangerous and beautiful. And in that moment, you understood: he didn’t just notice you. He was drawn to you, fascinated by you, and — perhaps for the first time in centuries — allowing himself to feel something like love.
You blinked, caught off guard by the gentleness in his words, the almost shy curve of his lips, the way his gold eyes seemed to soften just for you. For a moment, the city below, the fires of Hell, even the faint chill of the balcony — none of it existed. There was only him, only the weight of what he had just admitted, and the fragile, luminous truth that lingered between you.
He trusts me.
The thought echoed in your mind, as delicate and startling as a bell in the dark. You had seen the Morningstar in all his grandeur, in his theatrics, in the glittering command he held over Hell. But this… this was something entirely different. Vulnerable. Honest. Entirely him, stripped of the crowns, the masks, the centuries of performance.
You felt a surge of something unfamiliar — a mixture of awe and tenderness. You realized you cared. Deeply, quietly, in a way that startled you even as it felt inevitable. His words, his small gestures, the faint way he had shifted just for you… it all wove together, wrapping your chest in a delicate tension that hummed with possibility.
And yet, beneath it all, a whisper of caution lingered. He was Lucifer Magne — brilliant, dangerous, broken in ways you might never fully understand. To care for him, even this quietly, was to invite risk. And still… you found yourself leaning, ever so slightly, into the space he had made for you, letting the warmth settle and bloom.
This is dangerous. And yet… it feels like coming home.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, voice trembling just slightly. “It’s… a lot to take in.”
You stepped closer, though not too close, letting the space between you carry the quiet gravity of the moment. “But…” You paused, searching for the right words, for the courage to meet the vulnerability he had just offered. “I think… I understand. And I see it. I see you. And… it matters. You matter. More than you realize.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Only the faint hum of Hell below and the whisper of the wind on the balcony filled the silence.
Then you smiled softly, letting the honesty in your words sink in without needing to embellish it. “You’ve… made me feel the same,” you admitted, voice barely above a breath. “Like… maybe something good is possible, even here. Even now.”
Lucifer’s gold eyes held yours, glinting with a mixture of relief, surprise, and something warmer — hope. The faintest flicker of a smile appeared on his lips, not the confident, dazzling grin of a king, but the quiet, real one that only ever surfaced when he trusted someone completely.
You glanced down at the wine in your hand, the deep crimson catching the city’s glow. Slowly, instinctively, you raised it. “Then… here’s to small things,” you said softly, voice carrying just enough weight to feel intimate, “and to the people who make them feel bigger.”
He followed your gaze, gold eyes glinting like liquid fire in the glass. “To moments worth keeping,” he murmured, almost shyly, “and to the ones who make even Hell… feel alive.”
The wind stirred, brushing past you both, carrying a quiet warmth. In that suspended night — wine in hand, confessions shared, and eyes locked in understanding — something fragile and extraordinary took root: trust, care, and the delicate beginning of hope.
And for the first time in a long while, neither of you needed masks or crowns. There was only the two of you, the shimmer of wine, and the quiet glow of a connection neither had expected, yet both already felt.
Synopsis: You end the long week of classes with a night out with your best friend, needing a distraction from your busy mind. You’ve been going through a rough and traumatic break up for the last couple weeks, so the break in your schedule is much needed. As you find yourself in a new part of town, you freeze at a familiar face. From that night on you are determined to prove to your ex (and yourself) how “fine” you are without him.
PSA- This is a LONG fic. I’m a whore for plot. You have been warned!
Content: MDNI, DUBCON, fingering, sub!reader, really rough sex, cervix fucking, mentions of pregnancy/impregnating reader, degradation, bondage, name calling (whore/slut), pet names (sweets/love/baby), jealousy, toxic!reader Toji and reader are in their 20’s (reader is in college)… can’t think of any others right now. Sorry if there’s errors! I’m too lazy to proof read this lol
It was a messy break up to say the least
You and Toji were together for two years, and during that time it was nothing short of an emotional roller coaster.
He would yell at you for showing too much skin when you would go out with friends, calling you a slut for attention. Not to mention any sort of male attention directed at you would result in a man wailing on the bar floor with a likely broken nose, and the both of you promptly kicked out of the bar by the owner. Come to think of it, you aren’t sure if there are any bars left that you are not banned from, on behalf of your hot headed ex.
And you would always find girls in his dms, thirsting after him and him letting it happen. When you would bring it up to him, he would dismiss your concerns saying it wasn’t a big deal, but you knew he was the kind of guy that loved the attention of other women, and deemed it okay because he wasn’t actually seeking these women out, therefore it wasn’t wrong in his eyes. Hypocritical if you say so yourself.
You felt yourself going crazy. You feel like you gave him so many chances, so many days where you were patient with him, only for another red flag to spring up, waving directly in your face preventing you from ignoring it.
However, the raw physical attraction between you two was so intense, it kept you reeling into him for more, creating this toxic cycle.
After many nights of crying yourself to sleep, of doubting yourself, you had enough and decided to rip off the band aid, breaking up with him for good.
You can imagine how well that went. It ended with him shouting out your front door that you’ll never find anyone like him and that you are over exaggerating the severity of your guy’s problems. You held firm though and slammed the door in his face, proceeding to block him on every form of social media.
You felt heartbroken, but mostly hopeful after that day. Excited to see what the future will bring for you after this closed chapter in your life.
So why can’t you stop thinking about him?
It’s the worst in the middle of the night, when your tossing and turning trying to feel the warm embrace of sleep take hold of you, when you hear his voice.
“That’s it baby. Say my name louder, I wanna hear it fall from those pretty lips of yours again.”
He’s dragging two of his fingers lazily in and out of you, curling in scissoring in the spots he know will have you mewling in pleasure.
“Yes-haah, Toji. That feels s-so good!” You moan out, bucking your hips into his thick fingers.
He smirks down at you and leans in to lick a stripe up your neck, sucking at the spot in between your jaw and throat, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Your hands find the back of his head, tugging at the soft strands of hair there.
“Do you like when I have control over you like this? You don’t have to answer that, she’s doing the talking for you.”
He nods down to you pussy, squelching with each thrust of his hand, making the most sinful noises echo off the walls.
Your face flushes at his words, but you feel too good to care. Mind clouded with lust. Instead, you fling your head back into your pillows and let the pleasure consume you whole.
His pace quickens at that, moving at a speed that is making you see stars. Your eyes roll into the back of your head.
Right as you feel your orgasm approaching, you meet the thrusts of his hand quicker. Moaning louder in confirmation.
“You gonna come f’me dirty girl? Make a mess all over my fingers?” He pants out, eyes glazed over at the sight of your beautiful form riding his hand so well.
You furrow your brows and nod frantically, feeling the impending release approaching you at full force.
“Good girl, you just need to do one thing for me.” He whispers in your ear. The low growl in his voice making you whimper.
“I need you to wake up, love.”
You pause for a second and look up at him, confusion etched in your fingers.
“Wha-…”
“WAKE UP Y/N” someone is shaking you, causing your eyes to snap open and sit up from your bed, head spinning from the quick movements. You feel them back away as your vision begins to focus, adjusting to the person in your room.
“You were out like a light, I thought I was going to have to send a marching band in here to wake you up!” Your friend let’s out an obnoxious cackle at that, seeming to note that idea for another day with a hand on their chin.
Shooting dagger her way, you roll your eyes and clear your throat, hoping your face wasn’t too flushed from your quite interesting dream you were having a second ago. After your breakup with Toji you decided to move in with one of your close friends from college. It was perfect actually. She was looking for someone to fill the extra room in her flat, and you were more than eager to fulfill that role. You push yourself on the palms of your hands until the back of you hits your headboard, running your hands through your hair.
“What do you need, Nobara?” You grumble, voice still laced with sleep.
“Well, I didn’t want you to sleep the whole weekend away…” she crosses her arms while arching a brow at you, “and I thought we could maybe do some shopping together for a little… excursion later this evening.” She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
You’ve taken your breakup overall pretty well, but your friend knows you and how much of a hold Toji had on you, so she’s been a little more attentive than usual with you. Walking with you to your guy’s classes together, having movie nights every Thursday, and even running errands together. She really was a one and a million friend, and you were grateful to have her in your life.
“What did you have in mind?” You fold your arms over your chest, curious but not surprised with her ongoing antics.
“I say we walk around some shops at the outlets for a bit, grab coffee so I can say hi to that tasty barista that is always working there at this time,” you raise an eyebrow at that, but let her continue, “THEN, we can go to that new club that everyone on campus has been talking about tonight!” She’s jumping up and down at that, giddy being an understatement of her actions.
You ponder the idea. you haven’t been out at a club since well before your break up, the thought not even crossing your mind till now.
You friend waits for you to answer, almost vibrating the floor with her excitement.
You can’t help but to giggle at your goofy friend. You get up at that, and start to rummage through your dresser drawer.
“Well let me brush my teeth and get changed first,” you grumble.
You worry that your neighbors might’ve called animal control from how loud Nobara squealed at your answer.
————————————————————————
After an oat milk latte and long shopping spree later, you are in your bathroom touching up your makeup and adjusting your newly purchased outfit in the mirror, getting ready for your girls night out.
Once you finish up you makeup just the way you like it, you give yourself a quick final once over, taking in your look.
Your hair was done in a half up half down look, some strands of hair let out to frame your face. The dress itself, was stunning. It was a deep fig color that shimmered in the right lighting, complimenting your complexion perfectly. Under that were some sheer black tights, and a pair of black kitten heels to tie it all together.
You looked sultry, classy, and sexy all in one.
You would’ve never chose this outfit for yourself if Nobara hadn’t been there hyping you up in the dressing room saying, “this dress fits you in all the right places” and “you better get this if you know what’s good for you”. You chuckle at the flashback. Making a mental note to thank her later. Because looking at yourself now, you can’t even lie. You look tasty as fuck.
————————————————————————
It’s 10p.m. now as you and Nobara exit your Uber to find yourselves in the heart of the city's nightlife, a couple buildings over, a sultry club beckons with its alluring aura.
You have heard of this club from others before, but have never been because of its high status and reputation, and deemed it an unobtainable feat to accomplish securing a reservation this high of caliber.
You both start walking to the front of the long line of the club, it’s entrance bathed in soft red neon lights. You can already hear the pulsating beat of music reverberating through the air, and into your chest. As you both make your way to the front towards the bouncer standing guard at the door, heels clacking on the concrete, you can’t help but notice in your periphery the many annoyed faces and grumbles of frustration from the people waiting in line for who knows how long.
“What are we doing, shouldn’t we get in line-“ you hiss in Nobaras ear as she drags you by you arm to the entrance, having a look of unbridled determination on her features.
“Fuck that, we’re young and hot, let’s use that to our advantage for once.” She smirks over her shoulder at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a hint of a smirk on your features.
Once you make it to the bouncer, you friend does the talking, giving her best clueless expression at the man in front of you two.
“Sorry to bother you, handsome. Our friend is waiting for us inside ordering drinks right now. They said it wouldn’t be a problem if we just met em inside…” she twirls a finger around a strand of hair as she batts her eyelashes up at him, waiting for his response.
He looks at you both up and down amused, but with a tinge of hunger in his eyes, most likely covered up by false professionalism for the sake of his job. You try not to scoff or squirm under his stare as his eyes briefly land on yours for a split second. In that moment you weren’t sure if your friend’s fabricated story worked or not. It was a clumsy one at that. You bite your lip in anticipation.
Not a moment later he gives you both a kurt nod and lifts up the rope, allowing you two to pass through into the main entrance. After getting out of view, you can’t help but to gawk at your friend at the fact that her plan actually worked. She looks back at you with slight surprise gleaming in her eyes as well, but that quickly became replaced with a wide grin on her features as you both make your way to the bar, arms linked together.
“I’m not even sure he believed that,” you laugh as you both sit down on a couple stools, quickly giving your drink orders to the bartender who skillfully begins to make quick work on both of your drinks.
That is when you finally glance around the room.
The air is thick with the faint smell of smoke, and a musk of cologne and perfume as bodies sway and grind to the seductive rhythm of the music, creating a hypnotic dance that mirrors the pulsating beats. Soft, dim lighting casts a sensuous glow, revealing the contours of flushed faces and glistening skin. The dance floor becomes an intimate space where desire and movement entwine, and the bar, adorned with mirrored accents, reflects the seductive energy that permeates the atmosphere. It's a scene drenched in allure, where the music becomes a shared heartbeat, and every glance exchanged carries the promise of untold stories.
You, with a lack of experience in this type of scenery, find yourself oddly at home with this crowd of people. Fitting in like an unknowingly lost puzzle piece. Your lips tug up in a small smile at that.
At that moment the song changes and you are met with one of your favorite songs gracing your eardrums. You and Nobara both make eye contact at the same time, squealing, grabbing each others hand and using you other to snatch your drinks of the counter, and make your way onto the dance floor.
Little do you know, leaning against a particularly dark wall of the building, a pair of predatory green eyes settle on your periphery, gleaming in the dim lighting.
You find yourself getting lost in the music, caressing your body up and down swaying to the rhythm. You were already starting to feel buzzed from your drink, now empty, discarded on an unoccupied table. You have always been a lightweight, but you are also pretty sure that the drinks here were extra strong, adding to your growing confidence.
Before you know it Nobara is being whisked away from a good looking man, not before she gives you a look that clearly asks if this is okay. You smirk and wave her off, wanting her to have as much fun tonight as possible.
As you turn back around scanning the area, you freeze a little in place. Over in one of the private seating areas you make eye contact with a familiar face.
There Toji is, legs spread cockily in the booth he resided in, arms resting on the top ledge of the seats as he leers over at you with a smirk playing on his features.
He’s not alone though. Two women in scantily clad attire are on either side of him, rubbing his chest and giggling at something he said. Clearly intoxicated themselves.
You surprisingly don’t feel as distraught as you may have guessed at the sight. Mostly just smoldering anger and disgust.
You then look away, but not before you see his eyes flicker into an expression you don’t recognize as you make your way into the dance floor once again. You scan your surroundings and find a man sitting by himself, already noticing you early in the night when you entered the place. You can tell by the way the man squirms in his chair that he is enamored by you. You let a slight smirk play on your lips as you walk up to him, hips swaying as you do so.
He noticeably gulps and tugs at his collar as you lean over him. Hands resting on either of his armrests caging him in. God you were buzzed.
Toji is seething in rage at the sight before him. Your breath ghosts against the stranger’s ear as you whisper something way out of his earshot. The man fidgets in his seat and nods, causing you to let out a wide grin as he gets up and walks with you back onto the dance floor.
Another one of your favorite songs starts playing, causing you to press up against the man’s back, grinding softly against him to the beat in perfect rhythm.
If you have trouble thinking of a fitting song I picture, The Machine-by Reed Wonder, going perfectly here.
The man (you quickly find out is named Yuuji) slides his hands down your body, gaining courage himself, grabbing your waist with one and the other ghosting over your rib cage.
You softly keen into his touch as one of your hands reaches up to fist into his hair, bringing his head down to nibble on your neck.
Your eyes glaze over as you stare at Toji, mouth parted open in bliss that quickly turns into a smirk as you see him lean forward, causing the girls by him to jump, as he stares back at you. Gripping the table in front of him enough to snap it in half.
Fueling you further, you break the eye contact to turn around, facing Yuuji now. The movement giving him better access to your neck as his hands travel down to rest on the small of your back, dragging slow circles with his thumbs around the flesh.
You whimper in his ear causing him to groan in reply.
“You are… unreal,” he breathes into your neck. Causing a faint blush to form on your cheeks as he worships your body on the dance floor.
You notice his eagerness escalating when you feel something poke into your lower belly, causing you to snap back to reality slightly. You weren’t ready to hook up with someone else, even though Yuuji seemed like a sweet guy. You still need time to get over your ex (that is currently sitting in a void of darkness while watching your every movement) so you kindly excuse yourself to the bathroom, giving him a polite and shy smile, scurrying away, leaving him with an uncomfortable hard on on the dance floor.
You eventually find the restrooms, opening the door and quickly shutting it behind you as your back rests against the door with a huff. With a quick scan of your surroundings you realize the bathroom is empty, thank god.
What am I doing? You ask yourself, making your way to the sink and staring at your features, casted in a red glow from the light overhead. You don’t know what has came over you. You swear Toji brings out the literal worst in you. No wonder why you two are split up. Your fists clench around the counter, glaring in your reflection as you think back to the scene you saw outside just a second ago.
He was always shaming you for being a slut while you were together and not even two weeks after your separation, you catch him here with two bimbos fawning over him and copping a feel? You scoff and shake your head, reaching into your purse to re apply more of your lip gloss, leaning forward a little to get a better look.
Too focused on the task at hand, you don’t notice someone entering the bathroom until you hear the music getting louder for a moment before the door closes, muffling the sound again.
What does peak your interest is the sound of metal sliding then clicking, indicating someone has locked it.
You pause what you’re doing and look past your reflection at the pair of eyes that have narrowed in on your plump lips, then slowly dragging back over to your face. Realizing who it was, you gasp faintly and stand up straighter, tugging your dress down subconsciously.
“The fuck was that?” Toji growls as he inches closer to you, causing you to tremble slightly in fear.
You reign your emotions in check, and scoff at him, not even bothering to look back at him as you apply your shimmery gloss.
“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just enjoying my night out.” you state matter of factly.
“You think you can just parade around like a common whore in that tight dress of yours and feel up whoever you want now that we’re not together?” He is seething now. Seeming to visualize earlier’s endeavors quite clearly still.
“I’m wearing a lot more than those tramps you had dangling off your shoulders a second ago.” You state coldly. “I see you’re still on your high horse thinking you’re better than everyone else.”
His mouth curls up in a silent snarl as he closes the distance between you two, his hard chest pressing into your back as your hips bite into the counter. You wince slightly at the contact.
“You keep your dirty mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” he hisses. Leaning down so his hot breath is fanning against the shell of your ear.
“You are mine. No matter what. You can be delusional and convince yourself that we are not right for each other, but I find myself to be quite convincing.”
You shudder as you feel his hand graze up your inner thigh, stopping just before brushing against your clothed cunt.
“Hm. Already wet for me huh? And I barely even touched you,” he smiles harshly at your flushed expression in the mirror, his other hand gripping your hip in a vice. Stilling your movements. You know you couldn’t get away if you even tried.
“That is from the guy on the dance floor earlier-” you gasp.
Quicker than anything you’ve seen before, Toji’s giant hand is around your throat, his body pushing you over the counter as his other hand rips your tights and underwear off in one swift motion and then plunges two fingers into you without warning.
You bite your lip but a squeak escapes your mouth as you start to feel light headed. Partly from the stinging pleasure of your walls being stretched so suddenly and partly from his bruising grip on your jugular.
Toji notices and loosens his grip slightly.
“Nuh-uh. Don’t want you passing out on me. I want you to be awake and aware for what I’m about to do to you.” He chuckles darkly as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you teasingly, pausing every now and then to curl or make a scissoring motion.
Right when the pain molds into heated pleasure, he withdraws his fingers from you, bringing his fingers up to inspect, glistening with your juices.
You wiggle in his grip as he brings his fingers to your mouth.
“Suck,” he orders.
You turn you head to the side but his hand around you neck moves to your jaw to turn it back towards him, forging your mouth to open and plunging his fingers inside.
“Lick them clean for me, slut. And if you even think if biting I will go a lot less easy on you.” He warns, eyes daring you to even try.
You slowly drag your tongue over his digits and suck on his fingers as you taste yourself, glaring at him through hooded eyes.
“Good girl,” he muses. A feline like grin spreading over his features. He then uses that hand to reach down between you two, and you hear the sound of his belt buckle loosening and his zipper opening up.
“N-no,” you whimper. Trying to gasp out the word over your constricted airways. Even though the thought of him barreling into you right now made you weak just thinking about it, you knew that if you two fucked, you would be roped in to his toxic cycle once again. And you were doing so good, you didn’t want that.
“What’s that sweetness? Can’t hear ya.” He chuckles darkly. Dragging his leaking tip over your drenched folds.
Your thighs quiver at the sensation. Eyes locking with his as he slams himself into you without warning.
You let out a high pitched scream that he quickly silences by wrapping his belt around your mouth, securing it around your head.
You had no choice but to bite into the leather and roll your eyes into the back of your head as he slams into you at a brutal pace. Only able to hear your muffled wails and the sound of skin slapping echoing off the bathroom walls.
“Shit, she feels tighter than before. Need to get this pussy molded to my cock again,” He grunts, putting you in a firm headlock as he holds the strap of his belt around your head, causing you to drool around the leather.
His eyes flicker to yours as his gaze deepens in rage. “You nasty bitch. Trying to make me jealous by feeling up the first guy you saw out there? Well look where that got you now.” He growls in your ear, biting your earlobe.
You could barely hold yourself up, your hands gripping his biceps and digging into the flesh there. He groans at the sensation.
He doesn’t let up. The stinging pain almost fueling him further as his length slams into your walls, nudging your cervix with every stroke.
You start to feel you orgasm barreling at you with full force, your walls starting to clench around his cock causing him to thrust into you shallower, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
“Cumming already sweets? How cute. Missed daddy’s cock that much huh?” He leans back to get a better view of your ass, fully exposed from your dress riding up at his menstruations. The hand that is behind your head, fisting the leather belt pushes you down so that your face is smushed onto the counter, smearing your tears and makeup on the surface along with it.
His other hand palms your ass, then gives it a harsh smack, causing you to let out a long moan as your orgasm crashes down on you, sending waves of pleasure over your body.
He uses the belt to yank you up so that he could watch you come undone. Chest pressed against your back as he slides your dress down your torso, exposing your bouncing tits to him in the reflection of the mirror. He slows down his movements slightly to take you in better.
Your tears and drool made a mess of your makeup. Mascara was running down your cheeks as a light sheen of sweat covered your whole body from the exhaustion.
“What a pretty thing. None of these girls compare to you, you know. Not in the slightest.” His hand grazes your cheek almost lovingly, causing your to whimper at the contact. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
His pace quickens once again and you feel his cock throbbing at his impending release. Your eyes widen as you realize that he has no intentions of pulling out of you.
“Gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum, yeah? Gon’ put a kid in you so you never leave me again,” he’s babbling to himself. Completely loosing his mind in pleasure. His thrusts become sloppy indicating how close he is. Then he gives out a final sharp thrust as he stills inside you, sheathing himself as deep as he can go, throwing his head back with a groan as his warm seed spills inside of you.
It doesn’t seem to end. You feel your stomach swell slightly as he fills you up, leaning down an he lazily drags his tongue over the length of your neck, the salty sweat coating his tastebuds.
Eventually he pulls out of you with a pop, and drops to his knees, inspecting the damage. Some of his cum begins to trickle out of your quivering hole, but he’s quick to scoop it up with his pointer and middle finger to sheathe it back inside you, not letting any of it go to waste.
You are still panting, cheek resting on the cool counter as he removes the belt from your mouth and tugs his slacks back on, buttering them up.
“Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily,” he says with a sneer. “I’ll be seeing you very soon.”
At that he unlocks the door and slips out without a word, leaving you in a mess of fluids and sweat. Legs quivering slightly as they try to hold you up.
Okay, before I start- i know that hazbin hotel has a lot of good ass songs, and I want to make own little custom songs but I cant write songs for shit however I can write poetry (not well but I'm trying) so instead of writing songs for you, I'll write shitty poetry that does not rhyme. Also sorry if my depictions of love aren't good- i have literally never been in love before, and if the ending is rushed, I'm not used to writing so much in one setting
There once was an Cherubim angel,
so gentle and kind,
perched upon a cloud
You sat on a cloud, smiling to yourself as you watched over all the different angels talk to each other about their duties- heaven was perfect, no- no not just perfect, heaven was a utopia. No angel can do any wrong, it is only virtue that existed upon these clouds and you were among these creatures of purity, you were one of god's creations just as all the other's were.
The clouds around you were soft, almost as if they were made of the soft silk your robes were made of, they were formed to bring comfort to any angel that came in contact with them and while all angels were already joyful, the clouds merely helped them stary from sinful thoughts.
She waited for another angel,
a Seraphim named Lucifer,
a friend, so close to her
You wondered though, were was lucifer? He was always about yet you didn't have any idea on where or how to find him. In all honesty, you found Lucifer to be amazing- his ideas, imagination, creativity bought stars to your eyes (figuratively, you had no iris or pupil- your eyes, more specifically your sclera, were a soft yellow colour with white swirls decorating them), to you his words were so brilliant, other angels couldn't even begin to speak or think the way he does.
He always came up with new ideas, new creations him, you and the other angels can create- can look after and love. You couldn't help but indulge in his chats with you- adding onto his ideas in anyway you can and while you personally thought your ideas weren't as amazing as his, to Lucifer your ideas were flawless- he always said that.
Lucifer was brilliant, he truly was- you could never understand why the other angels despised his thoughts so much.
Perhaps, the cherubim was in love,
perhaps she enjoyed Lucifer's company
much more beyond just meer friendship.
Okay, you needed to slow down- you were always thinking how great he was, maybe you didn't just like him as a friend... just maybe you liked him a bit more. Though, that way of thinking should stop soon- after all you have angelic duties to do! there is no way you can just abandon them just because you adored Lucifer....'s ideas.
You took a breath and got on your feet, spreading your wings (you had four wings, two on each side) so you could take off and start your work, however when you were jus about to begin to fly a figure rushed to you- wrapping their arms around your torso.
The seraphim appeared,
all smiles and glee
he held his friend closely
with tender, with care
Lucifer came out of no where, though his presence was welcomed warmly by you : who held him back just as tight. " Luci! " you grinned letting go of him, he had gotten there just in time- it was almost like he knew you were about to fly off, " [name]! Ha ha! how are you? " he asked holding both of your hands- a dorky smile engraved onto his face " Where have you been? I was worried " that was half-true, there was no evil (what even was evil? you didn't know, it doesn't exist not yet ) but there was a high chance that Sera was telling him off again.
" How sweet, but don't worry I'm alright cherub " he brought your hands closer to him- something that grin he held could only grow as the seconds passed by, seeming like he wanted to say something " Luci- I know that look in your eye, you've being creating again! Tell me everything ", your own smile began to grow as you squeezed his hand.
" You know me too well! Okay, so i was thinking of trying to make [ creature ], sounds cool right? well guess what else! " and with that he began to ramble about his ideas once more, with you chirping in some of your own ideas which made Lucifer sound even happier.
The two angels were at peace,
within the company of each other-
did they love each other?
would they dare say it?
You flew around with Lucifer, laughing together while yelling out some nonsense that seemed to only make sense to you and him- just you and him. Though your fun was quick to end when the two of you reached the tallest cloud in all of heaven and the two of you- both out of breath- fell onto it. " That was fun! " you chuckled, still trying to catch your breath " yeah! I loved that " was the reply, then silence fell upon the two of you. Though it wasnt awkward silence, it never was when it came to [name] and Lucifer- it was comforting and peaceful.
Though this silence was broken quickly by you. Over the last few weeks, months you were coming to understand your feelings towards the seraphim, and while you could easily deny them- to avoid them and focus of everything but that but you just couldn't, you sucked with feelings especially hiding them! and plus, how could you live if you didn't tell Luci how you felt " Luci... I " love you, those words were suddenly lodged in your throat and you couldn't let them be said- be heard why did that happen, you were sure you could say them- hell you said them before to people who you see as family!, "sorry what i meant was I- " loved you for so long now, I love you and I don't think I can ever stop loving you " loved that too- it was so fun! "
She couldn't say it,
she was too scared to tell her dear Lucifer
of her true feelings... though did he feel the same?
What was wrong with you? You couldnt say it, why? You loved Lucifer- there you admitted it in your mind but you just cant say it to him. You sighed and stared at your mirror- looking over your face, your long hair (angels all had long hair, it was one of the things that they always cared for and almost showed off)
Of course he did,
how could he not?
he loved her more than anything
she listen to his ideas, she added onto them
she never hated them, never judged.
but then, the high order formed the earth-
Adam and Lilith.
" [name? " Lucifer walked over to you, a smile on his face- though he always smiled, this smile seemed different in a way but you couldn't place your finger on it however that did not stop you from returning his smile " Luci! hey! " you grinned as he stopped just in front of you " [name]? do you know the two humans? " " Adam and Lilith? " " yes! Me and Lilith... are in love!"
...
he.. he loved the human Lilith? The one who ran from Adam (you heard of this from Sera, and while you acted disappointed you agreed with Lilith's decision of leaving Adam, you would have too), he found her and fell for her? .. how? she hasn't even existed for that long! How could you possibly fall that quick? it was impossible right?
It took you a few seconds to compose yourself so you can smile for Lucifer, though it didnt feel right " That's... brilliant Luci! I'm so happy you found love- how does it feel like? " and with that question you bared the suffering of listening to Lucifer, the one you loved, gush about Lilith, and you were almost envious of Lilith- almost hated her, you never met her and now dear god you probably don't ever want to. You had lost your Lucifer to her, though... you suppose he was never yours.
and with that,
those confessions of requited love
would forever be sealed away,
locked behind their grinning lips
though the perish of love was not their only problem.
Lucifer went too far,
he created evil through the second bride,
she bit the apple, she took the fall
and Lucifer and his love was to blame
though you would not let him be punished alone.
You too were part of this.
" No! " You screamed as you ran to the shaking Lucifer's side, almost trying to shield him from the anger of the higher order of angels. " Leave him be! He has done nothing wrong! " you defended him, still caring over your friend. Nevertheless, the angels did not listen to your words in the way you intended- they saw this as a further act of aggression from you as you also had a part to play in coursing dear Eve into biting the apple from the tree of knowledge of good or evil, you lead her to the tree, plucked the apple with Lucifer in tow and let her bite it. Now you and Lucifer were being punished, Lucifer getting the harsher side of it.
The angel was thrown to the depths,
to a world name named Hell,
where the only side of humans Lucifer was granted to see,
Synopsis: Lucifer left you behind to rule hell and have lilith so you were behind cleaning up your broken piece
Your wings were bigger than your body but your heart was bigger than your wings. You were an archangel helping your god important plans for mankind. Your husband Lucifer was a Seraphim and you always wonder how you two ever gotten married.
An Archangel and a Seraphim what an unexpected pair, isn’t it?
As you were talking to a human Adam about what god had told you to tell him. A bad feeling was upon you as you excused yourself to go back to heaven to find your husband.
An hour had gone by and you still couldn’t find him til you saw Lilith and you husband kissing. You were shocked and upset until god touched your shoulder ushering back into heaven saying he’ll handle it. Of course you couldn’t question someone you absolutely trust so you flew up with tears hurriedly to go find Gabriel and Michael.
That’s when you found out your husband has been banished with everyone else who betrayed God and heaven.
They were sent to hell as Lucifer as the leader of it and Lilith as queen. You sobbed so loudly make Gabriel hushed you quietly as he sway you left and right to get you to calm yourself.
Michael came back in with some ice cream with a sad smile. “Let forget about your ex husband my little Beauty” And you agreed. That was 200 years ago and during that time you found out Lucifer had a daughter which made you completely forget about him focusing about your home more importantly.
Today was your birthday and you had to go to a meeting about the extermination in hell.
Back in hell after getting a meeting to heaven he told his daughter an important story.
“Over 100 years there was these two angels one in a lower class and another in a higher class they loved each nonetheless. Married in heaven but soon the married man became regrettably enchanted with a human bringing her with him to his chaos but leaving his heart where heaven was at” Lucifer explained
“Y-You left your real wife, dad?” She asked him shock and sadness looking at the sky.
“Sadly so, she was supposed to be your mom” He chuckled as tears slipped out his eyes. The amount of times he goes over to see you but you never reciprocate breaks his heart.
He still wears his gold wedding ring from the day he married you and he can never forget that day.
“Don’t worry charlie i’ll win her back no matter the cost and I’ll bring her here to hell for her to rule with me” He reassured her with determination. They both look up to the sky to see a rare white star down at hell.
tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, unsettling & obsessive behavior, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, unwanted advances (not by alastor), murder, graphic descriptions of injuries
˚୨୧₊♱
As the days unfolded into weeks, Alastor remained true to his word. A routine soon formed between the two of you: he would make regular visits to the speakeasy, engage in polite conversations with Mimzy, and take his usual seat to enjoy your performance.
In time, Alastor's interactions with you grew more intimate. And one night, following the success of one of your busiest night and biggest show, he surprised you with a beautiful necklace. Pulling you into your dressing room, Alastor asked for permission to formally court you. Without hesitation, you agreed, and in a burst of affection, proceeded to kiss him within an inch of your life.
Since then, Alastor had begun to take you on dates outside the speakeasy. He dragged you along to diners, drive-in movie theaters, and even brought you to meet his mother once. Sweet woman she was.
During your time together, not once did he miss any of your shows. Why would he ever? To him, it was the very reason why his days no longer felt grey and lifeless! His devotion to you almost mirrored religious fervor as he attended each of your shows like an impassioned disciple in the dimly lit speakeasy pews.
Your voice became a beguiling spell, luring Alastor like a foolish sailor drawn to a siren's call. In those moments, the world faded away, and he followed the melody with an irresistible pull, captivated by thoughts of you, you, you.
Only you.
Tonight, however, was anything but ordinary.
Alastor, following his usual routine, occupied his customary spot at the pub, savoring his whiskey with slow sips from his glass. However, the comforting rhythm of the night, which he had grown used to, was broken when the band screeched to a halt, the shrill notes of the violin cutting through the air. Immediately, the pub erupted in a chorus of boos and shouts.
Alastor blinked, his smile turning strained as he noticed a man stumble onto the stage. It was clear that he was intoxicated, lacking the grace even of a headless swan, as he clumsily collided with you.
Noticing the commotion, Mimzy clicked her tongue, slammed her drink onto the counter, and swiftly rose to her feet. She rushed to the stage, the glitters on her vibrant dress catching the dim lights of the speakeasy.
“Why, I oughta—" she began to furiously stomp toward the stage, wagging a finger in the air. “That’s the fifth time this week, Giovanni!”
"Ah, Mimzy, bella! Jus' wanted to surprise my sweetheart," the man slurred in a thick accent, burying his head into your collarbone.
Alastor felt a visceral reaction, something within him snapping as the glass in his hand cracked under the strain of his grip. The fractured crevices dug into his skin, and golden liquor seeped out, mixing with crimson red blood.
As a regular performer at this pub, your popularity was unquestionable, and Alastor was not entirely pleased with the attention you garnered from other men. If given the opportunity, he would have you whisked away from this place. In his view, your voice was too lovely for a place like this. The thought of you joining him in his radio broadcasts had crossed his mind more than once, as he believed your talent deserved a grander stage than the confines of this tacky establishment.
“Ahah,” you smiled awkwardly, shuffling away and shrugging the man's arms off of you. “Not your sweetheart, Giovanni…”
"Are you not happy to see me, carina?" Giovanni’s voice dropped to a whisper, his hand dropping to grip you by the waist. He leaned his face in closer, and you cringed. The man's breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were a bloodshot red. “Come on~ I came all the way to see you.”
“Ya' can go see and do whatevah the fuck you want with her after the show!” Mimzy scowled, stomping her heels onto the wooden flooring. “Can't have a moment of peace in here. Someone get him off my stage!”
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want!” Giovanni roared back, kicking the microphone stand in Mimzy’s direction. Jumping back with a yelp, the blonde dodged in time as the mic crashed to the floor, causing ear-splitting feedback and escalating the chaos.
“Please. Just go,” you groaned, patience wearing thin. “Why? Why do you always have to make a scene?”
“Ay. Carina, don' get bratty with me. Let's talk in tha back," Giovanni's hands gripped your shoulders, attempting to pull you off the stage, but he was forcefully yanked back by Mimzy's guards. "Hey! Get ya' hands off’a me".
Turning around, you rushed to get off the stage, but Giovanni somehow managed to break free and extended his hand, trying to grab onto you. Panic welled up within you as his hand reached out, but relief followed when he was abruptly stopped by none other than Alastor.
"Now, now," Alastor's voice had a lilt as he held onto Giovanni's wrist, but the malice woven into each word was unmistakable. His ever-present smile stretched wide, serving as a clear warning. "Causing a commotion isn't the best way to impress a lady."
"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wring his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled and adjusted his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.
"Ha ha! Kind sir, when someone disrupts a delightful performance, it becomes everyone's business," Alastor laughed, the sound of it almost sarcastic.
"But I must commend you. My, that impromptu performance of yours was quite remarkable; you truly made a wonderful spectacle of yourself!" Alastor grinned down at the man, his mocking eliciting laughter from the crowd.
Alastor then bent down to meet Giovanni face to face, his words losing their amusement, now measured and deliberate.
“Though I think you've overstayed your welcome, no?” Alastor's hand tightened around the drunk's wrist, and the skin beneath his grip bruised into hues of purple, green, and blue as his nails dug in, leaving marks.
Alastor's grin turned sharp. "You will leave. Now."
"F-Fuck are you gonna do if I don’t, aye?" Giovanni spat, attempting to maintain a façade of bravado despite the pain. He withdrew his hand from Alastor's grip, cradling his wrist. "Ya' think you can tell me what to fucking do?!"
"Hmm. I would at least advise you to salvage whatever dignity you have left and leave. If you had even a dust of intelligence in that hollow head of yours, that would have been the first thing you'd have done," Alastor chuckled, his tone dripping with condescension.
“Damn right. Ya ain't got no fuckin place in my establishment,” Mimzy scowled, snapping her fingers and gesturing towards the men surrounding Giovanni. “Take him away, boys!”
As Mimzy’s goons surrounded him again, Giovanni sneered, "This ain't over."
"Oh, my dear pal, I assure you, it is very much over. The lady has made her wishes very clear," Alastor grinned.
With a final snarl, Giovanni was forcibly led away from the scene. Mimzy immediately rushed off backstage and began ordering people to clean up and get the stage ready again. Alastor turned to you, his charismatic character returning, though the glint of irritation lingered in his eyes.
"Apologies you had to see that, cher. Let's hope the rest of the evening proceeds much more smoothly," he remarked, his voice smooth as velvet.
"I hope so." With a sigh, your gaze shifted downward, and you spotted his injured hands. The glass he had broken earlier had left wounds all over his calloused palms — not deep, but enough to draw blood.
Concern etched across your face, and you gently touched Alastor's hands. The radio host, accustomed to your touch by now, allowed you to inspect the damage.
"You're hurt," you observed, your voice laced with worry.
Alastor met your gaze with a reassuring smile. "Ah, this is just a trifle. A mere inconvenience, I assure you! My, I get worse injuries during hunting, darling! Much, much worse."
"But—" you began, only to be interrupted by his finger pushing against your red lips.
"Worry not, cher. I'll take care of it. There's no need to play nurse," he spoke with finality, as if this was a matter not open to further argument.
"Alright," You managed a small smile. "I am really sorry things turned out this way, Al. I didn't know Giovanni was going to show up again. He's always been like that for as long as I can remember. I told him to stop but he never does."
"No need for apologies. None of this fault is on you, darling. Though it does add a touch of excitement to otherwise mundane affairs, doesn't it?" Alastor chuckled heartily, though you sensed there was a bitter undertone to his laugh.
"Excitement? That man is a shitshow just waiting to happen," Mimzy returned and walked up to both of you, rolling her eyes. "And I thought I got rid of him for good..."
Suddenly, she leaned in with cosmetics in hand, deftly swiping lipstick across your lips and delicately brushing blush on your face. "Now come on, dollface, let's get you back to singing."
You realize you're still on shift, but the idea of performing feels nearly impossible right now, especially with all this lingering adrenaline in your system. Admittedly, you were a bit shaken up, and all you wanted to do was curl up by Alastor's side and savor the night with a drink in hand. Maybe even light a cigar, who knows?
"Oh, Mimzy…I'm not sure I can really perform right now, love. I feel…" you slowly trailed off, faltering under the weight of Mimzy's hardened gaze.
The blonde cooed out your name, her fingers gently wrapping around your arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down. "Dollface, you're not here to question; you're here to perform! Alastor here has been so kind to get rid of your little problem. Now, get back on that stage and do what you're good at."
"Pardon?" Alastor snapped, his jovial tone momentarily replaced by a sharper edge. He raised a brow in response, expressing a hint of reservation. "Well, I don't mind in the least. In fact, I rather enjoyed putting that simpleton in his place. I'm sure your patrons can afford to wait, can't they? This poor dear is still shaking in her heels!"
But you intervened, mustering a forced smile and smoothing down the wrinkles on your dress while nervously tending to your hair. "Oh no, Al, it's alright. Mimzy's right. I can't just let one man ruin my entire night."
With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, taking a moment to compose before adding, "Besides, the show must go on, right?"
Alastor paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied your nervous tics. The radio host silently appraised your form for a few more seconds before eventually giving in. "Hmm, very well. If that's what you wish."
"Thank you, Al," you whispered with a smile, tilting your head up to press a kiss against his cheek. Your lipstick had left an imprint on his bronze skin, but he made no move to wipe it off.
With a chuckle, Alastor leaned back into you and returned the gesture warmly.
"I'll take care of everything, doll," he whispered, voice low, before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "He won't ever bother you again."
Confused, you blinked up at him with those bright eyes he loved so much. "How do you plan to do that, Al?" you asked, but he ignored you, staring at you with that unsettling look in his eyes again. Alastor suddenly raised your hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with gentle pecks, causing your mind to blank and cheeks to go aflame.
Tapping her foot impatiently, the display of affection lingered a bit too long for Mimzy's liking and she swat a hand against the man's shoulder.
"Alright! Enough of that! Get back to your seat!" The blonde pulled him away, forcefully guiding him back to his booth. Alastor smirked to himself and began walking back, seemingly satisfied with the subtle disturbance he had caused. He was such a bastard, but he was yours.
With a shake of your head and a smitten look on your face, you made your way back to the stage. The blinding spotlight engulfed you as Mimzy tossed the microphone back up. It landed in your hands, and you took a deep breath, feeling the smooth surface against your skin.
Alastor, now back in his seat at the booth, listened attentively as you resumed your performance. The audience, having pushed away the brief interruption, refocused their attention on you.
Rabbit, rabbit!
Won't you run away?
Don't give the farmer all his fun today~
He'll get by without his rabbit pie.
So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run!
As you neared the end of the song, Alastor joined the crowd's applause, rhythmically snapping his fingers together.
Wonderful, as always.
˚୨୧₊♱
Snap.
The sudden, jarring sound shattered the stillness of the forest, followed by a shrill scream that seemed to shake the trees. Giovanni's hands instinctively shot down to his ankle, where his bone had twisted in a gruesome sight that sent bile rushing to his throat. However, he had no time to inspect the damages as a rustling bush caught his attention. Desperately, the man began crawling on the ground, doing his best to move farther away, dragging mud and dirt all over his body.
"Don't give the farmer his fun. Fun. Fun," emerging from thick shrubs, Alastor sang lowly as he continued his slow advance, relishing in the fear that emanated from his prey. He raised his hand, fingers idly tracing over the red mark on your lips, and if he focused hard enough, he could still feel the burn of your affections. "He'll get by without his rabbit pie."
The dense forest around them seemed to close in, casting eerie shadows as Alastor's menacing silhouette moved closer. Giovanni, now gasping for breath, cast terrified glances over his shoulder, desperately searching for an escape route.
"So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run," The air thickened as Alastor continued to trail after the man, his axe slung over his strong shoulders, a sinister grin etched on his lips.
Ah, it had been so long since he last pursued larger prey, opting for smaller catches like rabbits and squirrels lately. This, however, was a different kind of pursuit, and the thrill was delicious.
“It's rather unsavory to disrupt a live performance,” Alastor mused, gripping his axe and running his bandaged palm along the side of the blade. "Oh, the misery! Each performance interrupted, a masterpiece marred!"
“Though I suppose you redeemed yourself with your impromptu circus performance,” Alastor snickered, reaching down and seizing Giovanni’s sprained ankle, dragging the screaming man back toward him.
"Good show!" The radio host grinned as he pressed his feet against Giovanni's back to prevent him from escaping. Alastor raised the axe high, the glint of the blade reflecting the crazed gleam in his eyes.
"Now, let's see how this act ends."
With a practiced swing, he brought the blade down, chunks of flesh and blood spraying onto his clothing and skin from the impact. Alastor laughed as the light gradually faded from the man's eyes, his once-struggling arms and legs now falling limp.
[WARNING MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON FINALE UNDER CUT]
She glared at him angrily, “All this for a dick you can’t suck!” shouted Adam, and she glared at him angrily. Gritting her teeth, “Ugh! Fuck you.” she spat. Missing him once again.
She laughed mischievously, as she transformed into different animals. Teasing him, “For someone who calls himself dick master, your own wives didn’t even want yours!” She laughed, grinning as you transformed into a dolphin with wings.
Then her eyes widened, “Please tell me you didn’t hear that.” She looked embarrassed, cheeks red. Lucifer cocked his head to the side,“Not all of it just the, a dick you can’t suck part.” He said, her cheeks bright red. How she wanted to curl up into a ball and hide in a cave.
She pursed her lips inward and groaned, “I would kiss you now-” Her cheeks turned red, as a tomato as he said that. Even more so as he looked down at her with a mischievous grin, “But, we can do that later.” He said, a grin on his face then turning to are at Adam.
She bursts into the room,“Lu, I did it!” She exclaimed, holding the rubber duck in her hands. Flapping its wings occasionally lifting itself off the palm of her hand. Flapping its wings.
“The bully gets bullied,” She cackled, making faces at him before disappearing in a poof of yellow clouds. She giggled, as Lucifer took her by the hand. And the two of took pride in dancing to dodge, Adam’s attacks.
y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint
part ii
synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)
beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!
he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.
through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.
after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question
there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel
you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.
since then, vox has been searching for you:
“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”
“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.
but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.
to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel
picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips
you used to smile at him just like that
in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!
from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.
“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.
you never answered to his pleas.
“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.
you turned to face away.
“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.
a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.
vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.
a little fic about how alastor met his deerly beloved wife
tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love
˚୨୧₊♱
"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"
"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"
“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”
“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”
“An’ how come I never heard of this?” Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this?"
"Yeah, they were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."
Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."
Mimzy cackled, snatching the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."
"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him.
Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~"
Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, squishing his cheek against his palm. "And you were part of this love saga?"
Mimzy shook her head, a smirk lighting up her lips before she went and downed the entire bottle in her hand. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."
Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought Smiles had it in him."
"He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interjected, leaning over the counter and reclaiming the bottle back from Mimzy with a growl.
Angel hummed dismissively, "Anyone could 'a guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."
Mimzy snorted. "Busy. That's where.”
“Really? Busy? That’s it?”
“Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."
“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”
"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”
˚୨୧₊♱
A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet. Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town.
It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.
Adjusting his glasses, Alastor gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers."
Charming.
With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly cringing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman perched up on the counter.
She sat with a cigar between her cherry-red lips, legs crossed provocatively, causing her dress to ride up her thighs. The sight revealing more skin than one might typically expect to see in civil society. Upon noticing Alastor's presence, she lit up with excitement and greeted him with an animated wave.
"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy! Whatcha here for?" she chirped with a friendly lilt, the cigar still nestled between her lips.
Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Just passing through. I've heard whispers that you have bootlegs here?”
‘A potential client? Straight to the point, huh?,’ Mimzy's eyes glinted as she maintained her lively demeanor. She took one last puff before flicking her cigar onto an ashtray.
"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”
Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it an almost theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."
Mimzy perked up and eagerly hopped off the counter, the click of her heels echoing against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.
"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.
Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’s heard whispers of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filling the air, and the dimly lit space alive with laughter and clinking glasses.
Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited.
"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, pouring a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass, acknowledging the toast with a nod.
"To unexpected encounters," he echoed as he took a sip of the drink.
The liquid, bitter and strong, left his senses with a tantalizing warmth that danced on his tongue. A slightly sweet aftertaste lingered, creating an intriguing balance. Ever since the prohibition hit, it's been harder to get his hands on fine brews such as this.
Taking a seat, Alastor swirled the cup in his hand, watching the thick golden liquid twirl around, catching glints beneath the bar lights. Well, he supposed this venture wasn't a complete waste of his time.
Once more, Alastor raised the glass to his lips, savoring the warmth of the whiskey as he allowed himself to sink into the plush cushions that enveloped him. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, persistently refilling his drink in hopes of piling his bill higher.
As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"
Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"
"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.
In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you gestured towards the dark-haired man seated at the piano, prompting the jazz ensemble to begin playing, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight cast a warm glow on you, a hushed silence descended upon the speakeasy.
Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher
She was a red hot hoochie-coocher
She was the roughest, toughest frail
But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale
The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze fixated on your form, captivated by the performance unfolding before him. It appeared as though he could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.
She messed around with a bloke named Smokey
She loved him though he was kokey
He took her down to Chinatown
And he showed her how to kick the gong around
As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.
“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.
Alastor took this moment to observe you more closely. You wore a slender, golden sequined dress with a low neckline and a square skirt that gracefully dropped just above your knees. Complementing the dress were black kitten heels, a chic bobbed cut framing your features, and a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers.
"Dollface, I want ya to meet Al!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of Alastor. “He’s new!”
With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.
‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.
Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, and rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.
There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features.
“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.
"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered.
Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound. "Well, I do have a certain fondness for…” the radio host paused, his gaze subtly surveying your form, “finer things in life."
The pause lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a mischievous grin between the two of you.
"Well, don't cha? I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement.
Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you locked eyes with him. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."
Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."
“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.
With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping and shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.
Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead.
This man could fucking dance.
As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.
"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.
“You're not too bad yourself,” you managed, a raspy, breathless laugh escaping from your lips.
“Nobody has ever been able to keep up with me,” you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and fixing your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."
After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.
"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.
Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."
While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.
As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose.
What were you doing to him?
"There you go!" you perked up, patting his chest before withdrawing your touch. "Ready to head back?"
Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, extending his arm toward you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.
"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.
Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."
Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated. Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.
As much as Alastor would relish the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.
"It's later than I realized," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer."
Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he witnessed your obvious disappointment, accompanied by the downturn of your pretty red lips. His fingers itched with a fervent impulse, not to just pull your lips back into a smile, but to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips up in a macabre attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.
On the other hand, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.
"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout.
"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."
Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"
He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, allowing him the pleasure of treating others. Mimzy practically glowed, snatching the tab. The blonde flips through the bills, quick and calculating, pocketing the money before turning around, offering a somewhat hasty farewell.
"Thank you, love! You're welcome anytime!"
“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.
“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.
Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."
You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."
Alastor's gaze intensified, locking onto you with a magnetic pull. His eyes seemed to glow with an inexplicable intensity, and as his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human. Another shiver traced down your spine, the sensation lingering.
"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said.
Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.
"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.
With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit.
Yes, he shall see you very soon.
˚୨୧₊♱
Alastor is rly difficult to write esp since the lore we have on him is limited,,I might continue this if enough people want itt + Requests are open xx
Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."
alastor getting a noticeable hard on while watching you kneeling down doing something. you notice and you ummmm.. ya know.
HIS MOANS AND GRUNTS UGGGHKFNFJF I NEED HIM SO BAD
UGH, YES! IMAGINE THIS WITH ME NONNIE! i was so excited to write this, it’s a bit messy, but i hope it’s still enjoyable! you can always leave more thirsts & scenarios in my inbox! — here are my ACCOUNT RULES !
“oh, hello alastor!” you said cheerfully, holding a clipboard that had a to-do list, filled with tasks to handle throughout the day.
you were just doing your daily rounds when alastor came along, grinning and wishing you a good afternoon. you liked alastor a lot, what originally was a friendship seemed to be slowly morphing into something more.
but you couldn’t tell, it was hard to so when alastor wasn’t open with his emotions.
“what do you have there, my dear?” he asked, staring at your clipboard.
looking down, you smiled. “oh! just some papers to fill out as well as things to do, you know..just doing my job.” you said sheepishly, moving the board to one hand as you rubbed the back of your neck.
alastor seemed interested, his bright red eyes focused on you entirely.
“i see! i must say, my dear. i like seeing how devoted you are to the hotel, i’m delighted charlie brought you in!” he cheered, holding his cane.
at his praise, you smiled, adverting your gaze. you were a bit embarrassed and flushed, but he was being so nice.
“thank you alasto— oh!” you were just about to thank him for his kind words before your clipboard fell, falling right on the clip that held the papers, making them scatter on the floor.
“damn it,” your muttered before dropping down on all fours to pick up the mess you made.
“darling! would you like some help?” alastor called from above you, you looked over your shoulder and shook your head. “no, no! i’m alright, how was your outing today?” you asked.
alastor’s gaze was on you, your back was facing him and so was your behind.
the pants you wore were outlining your curves and he was getting a front row seat to the view.
heat began to spiral inside his belly, his facing flushing. “it was quite alright, not much to see.” he replied, trailing off at the end as he watched you reach out to grab a paper.
your back was arched and the view he already had got better.
that was, until he felt a strain in his pants.
fuck. he knew exactly what it was, he tried to believe he was much more composed and controlled, but with you? it was hard to stay that calculated.
his cock strained against the dress pants he wore, his grip on his cane got tighter as he cleared his throat.
“that sounds nice, if i have time a stroll would be fun to go on!” you said, putting the papers back and clipping them before turning around on the floor.
you faced alastor and stared at his face, flushed and red! was he okay? could he be sick or something?
“are you..?” you asked, looking back down before looking at the bulge straining his pants. now this your off guard, “alastor?” you asked, staring at him with widened eyes.
he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, paralyzed in embarrassment.
he finally snapped back, “excuse me will you! i have something to take care of, talk again soon, perhaps!” he quickly, said wanting to take care of the warming lust he felt.
quickly you got on your feet and grabbed his hand, “no! come with me. let me help you. ” you said, now grinning at him. your room was just a few doors down.
moans left your lips as your body was pressed against your warm bed, hands gripping alastor’s shoulders as he rutted himself inside you.
“o-oh, fuck!” you squealed.
you had never expected him to have it in him! to be fucking your smaller body into the mattress, having you cry out desperately.
alastor’s face was nuzzled into your neck, animalistic grunts leaving his lips as your cunt tightened around his cock.
his hands gripped your hips, claws digging into your plush skin.
his hips slapped against yours, leaving you into a babbling mess. yours grip on him was tight, moaning into his ear while your legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping him close to you.
just as he thrusted, you felt the tip of his cock knock against your g-spot, the spongy spot having your cry out loudly.
“alastooor!” you drawled out, a grin coming to your lips, this might’ve been the best fuck you’ve had in all of these years in hell.
alastor muttered, his balls slapping against your skin, his body was hot. as your walls clung tightly around him, alastor was close, really fucking close.
giving you a heads up, alastor didn’t care to pull out.
stuffing you full with his cum, leaving you tired and shaky, smiling weakly as him as your legs were apart, showing off the mess he had left.
alastor grinned, “darling, you were so good to me!” he hummed, his hands slipping from abdomen to your thighs.
you would’ve replied, but truthfully you felt worn.
pushing your thighs apart even further, alastor lowered himself to your glistening stuffed cunt. your gaze was on him, “what are you doing?” you asked, alastor only smiled before pressing his lips against your sensitive clit.
your body jolted in response, a moan slipping past your lips loudly.
“i have to make sure you’re pleased, that wouldn’t be fair other wise. right, my dear?”
WOOO first Adam request, ngl despite him being a prick i lowkey fancy him so hard, so yeah, also the reader is an angel in this, Adam would NEVER do this to a demon / devil
𝘩𝘤𝘴
✧⠀⨾ Adam is a prick, this is a shock to no one and he always loves to take the piss out of everyone and everything, he is the self proclaimed "original dick"
✧⠀⨾ but there is obviously something very wrong with him when he's around you- he changes, almost becomes tolerable and instead of making fun of your looks or how you acted in his usual perverted and demeaning way- he instead does it in a way to make you feel all sheepish
✧⠀⨾ he loves to walk up to you, defiantly with finger guns or something like that, and say some stupid pick up line: something relating to heaven and you
Adam, the first man and head of the exorcist angels, walked over to you- a shit eating grin graced his face however you were too preoccupied with some angelic duty to notice his presence in the area. Though, unsurprisingly you weren't shocked when he appeared behind you, his clawed hand on you shoulder ❝ hey there beautiful, I know I'm in heaven now, you just look so angelic ❞ and he watched you turn to him, face coloured with a beautiful golden hue that not only increased Adam's ego but also his grin.
✧⠀⨾ it's safe to say that Adam loves seen your face all golden (COZ ANGELS HAVE GOLEN BLOOD AND BLOOD WITH WHAT MAKES YOU BLUSH SO YOU AHVE GOLDEN BLUSH BTW)
✧⠀⨾ Not only does it make him feel even better about himself and his ability to swoon the ladies, he also just adores watching you get all sheepish and 'faint' around him because of his complements, angels are meant to be pure and dont really flirt with each other- so it's weird to have Adam constantly come up to you.
✧⠀⨾ it's also like only you that he does it to, any of his admirers (lets be honest, Adam has girls, and maybe even guys, who want him) are always ignored and they're so envious of you it's crazy.
✧⠀⨾ Dont worry though Adam loves you enjoys making you blush too much so any issues with people that like him and lute will get them for you / him.
✧⠀⨾ if you ever get de-sensitized by his flirts and comments he'll go mental- he find you blushing to be so fun and adorable so if you just stopped it would crush him
[Y/n] titled her head curiously, and walked towards the rubber duck on his desk. She looked at it curiously, “I-Is this supposed to be me?” She asked curiously, and he looked at her fluster quickly taking it from her hands. She smiled at her old friend, that she missed dearly.
“N-No,” He stammered, holding the rubber duck in his hands delicately. She couldn’t help but smile softly, “Its really pretty,” She commented, looking at it in awe.
Lucifer cheeks seemed to flush, as said this. “Yeah, it is.” He mumbled under his breath pursing his lips. Her eyes drifted towards the countless, framed family photos of the Morningstar family.
Lilith in all her beauty and grace, and the angel couldn’t help but feel jealous envious even. She has a beautiful family an amazing daughter and husband. But she could understand Lilith in a way, even though she shared the same beliefs as Lucifer.
She knew humans can be cruel horrible people. But knew there were goodness and kind ones. The ones who were willing to rehabilitate deserved a second chance. Lilith didn’t believe that humans could be good.
She leaned her shoulder against him slightly, nudging him. “In a way we’re similar,” She said, looking at him sadly, “Lonely, depressed,” She added, but then smiled at him warmly.
“But we can have each other’s backs now,” She gently nudged him, and he looked down.
“Like old times.” said Lucifer smiling softly, remembering the old times he spent with his friend. She looked off in the distance at the room, filled with countless different rubber ducks.
“Yeah, like old times.” She replied, and then she breathed in and sighed, “I really missed you.” She said, a slight tint of red to her cheeks. He smile faltered as he looked at her, and a smile couldn’t help but return to his face. A slightly sad smile but you could still sense the warmth, “Yeah, me too.” He said, looking at her.
“And I’m not going anywhere now.” She said, smiling nudging him slightly, and he looked at her confused. “Cause, I might've told Adam to go fuck himself and to suck my nonexistent dick. And flipped him off. And the highest Seraphim.” She said chuckling nervously, but smiling happily.
♱ [ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ]♱
[Y/n] landed next to Charlie and stood next to her, "Fuck you, Adam!" She spat, eyes filled with hatred and anger. "You're only here because you were the first man!" She shouted angrily, fuming. Having had enough of centuries of embarrassment, "You're a narcissistic piece of shit! Go fuck yourself!" She spat, clenching her fists. Charlie's mouth seemed to drop.
"I'm not scared you!" She snarled, glaring at Adam and Lute. "Those are innocent souls down there, children. Who didn't know better. People who only did such things to do right." said [Y/n], looking at the other angels then looking up to glare at Seraphim.
"and you know of all angels here know that more than anyone," She glared, breathing heavily. "Sinners who are willing to change to redeem themselves deserve to be here more than anyone," She said, looking at them and then glanced back towards the portal.
"Here my resignation letter," She shouted, at the other angels. Grabbing her halo and throwing it on the ground, and stepping on it cracking it. Just as quickly as she did that her feature resembled that of a demon/fallen angel.
Lifting her head a smile on her face, "See you in hell," She spat, flipping off the other angels before sending a happy and proud smile, towards Emily Seraphim. Having no ill will towards the younger joy bringer.
"Wait what?" He asked looking at her in shock. "I told Adam to go fuck himself and to suck it." She said smiling, and looked over at Lucifer.
Who had pursed his lips inward as he held a finger to his lips, stifling back a laugh. [Y/n] couldn’t help but stifle back one as well, a smile on her face as their faces turned red. To only suddenly burst into laughter. Tears welled up in their eyes as they laughed, “Oh, I wish I could’ve been there for that.” He said, laughing as tears rolled down his cheeks.
She placed her hand on his shoulder, “Y-You, should’ve seen his face he looked so fucking pissed.” She laughed, wiping the tears off her cheeks.
“But it was so worth it.” She said, relaxing as she leaned her back against the wall looking up at the ceiling. Yet, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel angry once again an angel was banished for something they believed in, they didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve.
She smiled looking at him, “It was really worth it.” She said, a huge grin on her face and her looked at her, “Because now, I get to see you again.” She said looking down at her the ground, “I was so alone in heaven after you were banished, I wasn’t the same cheerful me I was so long ago.” She revealed, and lifted her head looking over towards Lucifer.
She smiled at him warmly, “But now I can be.” She said, hopeful. He smiled feeling her head lean against his shoulder, "I really missed you-" He stopped, looking over and smiled softly her head rested against his shoulder, her eyes closed.
"Too." He finished. She looked so at peace as her chest rose and fell; he hesitantly brushed a strand of hair tucking it behind her ear.
They were two idiots in love with each other. Two idiots too scared to confess their feelings to each others. Two idiots that shared the same dreams and ideas. Two idiots who even now still love each other.
Lucifer even before him and his wife split up. Deep down his repressed feelings for [Y/n], were still very much there. He truly did love Lilith and the daughter they share together, who has so much of her father in her due to his influence on her. Yet, deep down his feelings for his friend up in heaven still remained.
♱ [ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ]♱
Lucifer mumbled to himself as he paced back and forth. His index finger pressed against his lips, in deep thought. He chuckled nervously running his fingers through his hair, "J-Just tell her how you feel, Lucifer." He said to himself, as he gripped his clothes nervously. Laughing nervously, "I must be in heaven because I'm looking at an angel!" He said, and his eyes widened in horror and shook his head.
"No! No! Absolutely not.." He said, groaning as he dragged his hand acrossed his cheeks and let out a long groan. He started pacing faster and faster, "H-Hey, Y/n! Are you angel cause I must be in heaven." He said, and it sounded absolutely horrible, corny and cheesy.
"Lu?"
A voice spoke from behind him, "ImustbeinheavenbecauseI'mlookingatanangel!" exclaimed Lucifer, and his eyes widened and cheeks turned red as he saw [Y/n] standing in front of him. "What?" She asked confused, looking at him. Lucifer looked at her his heart pounding against his chest, as he stared at her nervously.
'Tell her tell her just tell her'
He stared at her and he kept opening and closing his mouth slightly. The words he so desperately wanted to say, getting caught in his throat. "I-I ah, it's nothing." He said, and she looked at him and nodded.
[Y/n] stared at her friend longingly words she wanted to say, getting caught in her throat. Only a single tiny, "Ah," escaping it was barely audible. Biting down on her lower lip nervously, they really are two idiots in love.
"I was able to get an audience with the higher angels," She said, looking at him nervously, "I hope they listen to your ideas." She said, chuckling nervously as she scratched the back of her neck. Looking away, blood rushed towards her cheeks feeling a hand slowly take hers.
"Our ideas." He said, smiling at her and her body tensed up and she let out a tiny squeak. She smiled softly, as her heart pounded against her chest. "Yeah, our ideas." She said, as her heart skipped a beat. They smiled at each other for a moment, before making their way towards the higher angels. Excited to share their ideas.
Lucifer smiled softly, as he picked her up bridal style and summoned a portal to one of the many rooms. He glanced down at her as she slept in his arms, he walked through the portal. He stepped into one of the spare bedrooms, and placed her on the bed pulling the covers over her a smile growing across her lips.
He couldn't but think about how adorable she looked in her sleep. How her nose would scrunch up as she snored, and how she would drool in her sleep. Yes, he still missed Lilith very much so even though it's been seven years since they split. She was still his wife well ex-wife, and was heartbroken when she left him. He still wore their wedding ring on his finger, he still hadn't moved on in a way.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear once again, she smiled softly at the touch. His heart seemed to swell once again, so many things he wanted to tell her even now. He watched as her chest rose and fell underneath the blanket, and chuckled quietly and softly as she mumbled in her sleep.
"Hells, why does she have to be so cute!" He shouted, in his head looking at her his cheeks red. He remembered, the smallest things about her from years since past. How whenever she would laugh she would scrunch up her nose, and how when she would talk about something she was passionate about her eyes would light up and sparkle, like a thousand stars. How when shy or nervous she would twiddle with her thumbs. How was the most beautiful angel in all of heaven to him, and still is.
He knew there was no way he was going to be able to stop her, from helping in the fight between Heaven and Hell. She was too stubborn something he loved about her from so long ago. If something were to happen to either her or Charlie, he doesn't know what he would do.
Now that she's here before him after so many years, after they were too banished from hell and wouldn't be excused from an exorcists blade. He wanted to keep them safe and wanted to protect them.
More than anything.
a/n: to much too earlier or...idk am i doing good or no.. the next chapter wont come out till the final episodes come out so i'll know what events transpire.. (´つヮ⊂) also i was gonna end this on maybe Lucifer planting a kiss on the reader’s forehead as she slept but i wanna take it slow first.
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