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i forgot their ears 2 times i’m sorry ಥ_ಥ

I’m on such a tangent to all the other things I should be doing right now but the temptation was too great… a glimpse into alternative Hans’ origin story that could thaw a frozen heart ❄️🩵

The palace was a vast and magnificent place, with its endless corridors and towering windows that allowed the sunlight to pour in almost cruelly, as if mocking those trapped within its walls. To Hans, such magnificence was nothing more than a prison disguised as splendor. He had spent the entire morning wandering aimlessly, hoping to find some form of entertainment, but everyone seemed occupied with matters of great importance, in which he, of course, had no place.

Aldric was buried in his studies and had made it clear that he did not wish to be disturbed. His mother was engaged in some social gathering, and his father… well, his father was never available. And so, in his desperation, Hans found himself wandering into the library, where Thomas and Frederick, two of his older brothers, sat by the fireplace, laughing together as if the rest of the world did not exist. He smiled upon seeing them. Perhaps they would want to play with him."Thomas! Frederick!" he called enthusiastically.

"Why don’t we go riding? It’s a magnificent day."

The two brothers exchanged a glance before returning to their conversation without even acknowledging him.

Hans frowned.

"We could also go to the river and throw stones. Or we could race to the stables. What do you say?"

Silence.

Frederick tilted his head with feigned curiosity.

"Thomas, did you hear that?" The young boy cupped a hand around his ear and adopted a thoughtful expression.

"Hmm… no, I didn’t hear anything. Did you?"

"I didn’t hear that either. How strange."

Both of them smirked before continuing their conversation, completely ignoring Hans.

The boy felt frustration rise to his face, making his cheeks burn.

"Stop doing that! I’m here!"

"Did you hear that, Frederick?"

"No, brother, I didn’t hear anything. Maybe it’s the wind."

Hans clenched his fists.

"If you don’t stop ignoring me, I’ll tell Mother that Frederick kisses one of her ladies-in-waiting in the gardens at sunset."

That, at least, got their attention. Thomas and Frederick went silent for a brief moment, looking at him with a flash of irritation in their eyes. But instead of backing down, Frederick leaned back in his chair with a careless smile.

"How funny. Looks like the wind has become particularly gossipy."

"And very loud," added Thomas, pretending to yawn. "What do you think, brother?"

"I think someone is practically begging for all their toys to be thrown into the bottom of the well."

Hans felt a knot of rage tighten in his stomach. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing his anger, so he abruptly turned and left the room without a word.

His heart pounded as he walked briskly down the hall, trying to calm the fury that simmered in his chest. His brothers always treated him like this. Like he was an annoying insect, an insignificant presence barely deserving of attention. But he wasn’t insignificant. He wasn’t.

If someone noticed him, if someone gave him just a little bit of their time, he could prove it.

It was then, as he turned a corner, that he saw his father.

The king looked imposing, with his regal bearing and the deep dark blue cloak that fell gracefully over the floor. Beside him, Richard, his older brother, seemed engrossed in conversation with their father. But Hans barely noticed his brother. His attention was fixed on the king.

"Father!" he called eagerly, quickening his pace to catch up with him.

The king turned his face, and for a brief moment, Hans’ expression lit up as he saw a smile form on his lips.

"Hans, my little prince!"

The little one jumped towards him with complete confidence, and the king received him with open arms, lifting him with ease.

"Look at you, getting bigger every day," he said with a hint of pride, squeezing him tightly against his chest. "How’s my little man today?"

Hans grinned from ear to ear. He loved it when his father called him that. It made him feel important, as if he truly meant something to him.

"I’m fine, father," he replied eagerly. "But I was so bored. Can we do something together today? Can we go riding?"

The king chuckled softly, still holding him.

"We went riding last week, didn’t we?"

"Yes, but that was so long ago, I haven’t seen you since then…" Hans complained, hugging him even tighter.

The king shook his head in amusement and gently lowered him to the ground.

"You’re tireless."

Hans felt warmth in his chest. Maybe this time, yes. Maybe his father would spend the day with him.

"In fact, I could go with you to the council meeting," he suggested excitedly. "I want to learn how you rule the kingdom."

But no sooner had he finished speaking than Richard burst into laughter.

"You? In the council? Don’t make me laugh. What could you possibly understand about politics?"

“I could learn,” he replied stubbornly.

The king sighed, though he still maintained his patience.

“Hans, son, today will be a very busy day,” he said in a tone of understanding. “Your brother and I have important matters to attend to.”

Hans furrowed his brow.

“But I want to learn too.”

“And what will you do when you get bored?” Richard joked, crossing his arms. “Will you ask for paper and colors to draw while we talk about trade treaties?”

Hans clenched his fists.

“I won’t get bored.”

The king placed a hand on his shoulder, letting out a longer sigh this time.

“Hans, we’ll talk about these things when you’re older. Today is not the time.”

“But I want to be with you, father,” Hans insisted, his voice dropping into a tone of pleading.

The king’s face lost some of its earlier warmth. His patience, though still not entirely exhausted, was starting to fade.

“Hans, don’t insist,” he said, this time with a more severe edge.

“Oh, come on, father,” Richard interjected with feigned sympathy. “Let him come. Surely his contributions will be essential.”

Hans glared at him, hoping his father would stop him. But the king simply rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Enough, Richard,” he muttered, then turned to Hans. “Son, please, we will spend time together another day.”

Hans felt desperation swirling in his chest.

“But…”

The king raised his hand, cutting off his protest with a firm gesture.

“Enough.”

He snapped his fingers at a servant who had been waiting nearby and, with the tone of someone giving an order with no room for discussion, said:

“You. Take the prince elsewhere. I can’t deal with this now.”

Hans felt as if the ground had been ripped out from under him.

The servant, with an expression of visible discomfort, approached with a bow.

“Your Highness… if I may…”

But Hans didn’t respond.

He looked at his father, who didn’t even notice him anymore. He looked at Richard, whose satisfied smile made him boil with rage. He looked at the servant, who was avoiding his gaze.

And finally, without saying a word, he turned on his heel and left.

The sound of the conversation between his father and brother continued behind him, as if he had never been there in the first place.

◆◇◆

Later that day, the bedroom of the younger princes of the Southern Isles, which during the day was spacious and filled with light, took on a mysterious atmosphere as night fell. The only illumination came from the flickering glow of the oil lamps. In the center of the room, two identical beds, separated by an elegant dark wooden table, occupied the space. However, at that moment, neither was being used for its original purpose.

“Aldric, prepare yourself! The enemy is approaching!” Hans exclaimed, brandishing his wooden sword with the zeal of a legendary warrior.

Aldric, who was only a few years older and much more practical in matters of war, barely had time to grab his own sword before Hans leaped from his bed with surprising agility for his short legs. The battle was fierce: Aldric defended his position atop his mattress while Hans attempted to invade it with the ferocity of a conqueror.

“I warn you, Hans!” Aldric said between playful strikes. “You have no rightful claim to the throne of my bed.”

Hans laughed, took a step back, and raised his sword with the solemnity of a crowned king.

“I am King Hans, the greatest of all warrior kings,” he declared, with the unwavering confidence only a seven-year-old could possess. “I shall rule the Southern Isles and wear the Navigator’s Crown, just like our great-great-grandfather! And I will take your bed!”

“No!”

“Yes! You shall sleep on the floor, Aldric! These are the king’s orders!”

“You are not my king, Hans,” Aldric countered, swiftly jumping from his own bed onto his younger brother’s. “Quick, the princess has been kidnapped by pirates!”

And with a leap, he dashed across the room, sword held high.

Hans didn’t move.

“Come on, Hans! The princess is in danger!”

“I don’t like that game.”

“What do you mean you don’t like it?”

“It’s always the same. The princess is in danger, the princess cries, the princess waits for someone to rescue her… It’s exhausting. Why does she always let herself get captured?”

Aldric blinked, incredulous.

“Hans, it is a king’s duty to rescue princesses!”

Hans frowned.

“Since when?”

“Since always. A king rescues princesses, holds parades, waves from the balcony, and gives bread to the poor.”

“That sounds so boring.”

“A king doesn’t just sit on a pile of gold like a fool!”

Hans tilted his head, thoughtful.

“Well, maybe you don’t know this, Aldric, but there are kings who just sit on piles of gold.”

“Not in this game!”

Hans huffed.

“Fine, if you insist so much, we can save the princess… But only because she’s the only one who knows where they hid my treasure chests.”

Aldric clutched his head.

“Hans!”

“What? That’s a very valid reason!”

Aldric shook his head and, with renewed determination, raised his sword.

“Forget it. I will fight alone.”

“Wait, wait.” Hans rested a hand on his hip and flashed a sly grin. “What if I really do become king one day?”

Aldric burst into laughter.

“You will never be king, at least not in these isles.”

Hans pursed his lips, thoughtful, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well… maybe if all of you died in an accident.”

Aldric smacked him with his wooden sword—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to show his indignation.

“That’s not funny, Hans!”

“What? I’m not saying I’d cause it, I’m just saying life is unpredictable.”

But Hans was already laughing, utterly unbothered by the moral implications of his words. His amusement, however, was cut short by a voice—gentle, yet possessing the authority only a mother could wield.

“Hans, you know I don’t like you talking like that.”

Both boys turned their heads to find the Queen standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a look of gentle reproach on her face. She wore a dark blue gown, and her hair was pinned in a bun that seemed moments away from unraveling, as if she had been tending to affairs all day.

Hans immediately lowered his head, dragging his sword along the floor.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he murmured.

Aldric, though still mildly offended, decided the matter wasn’t worth dragging out.

The Queen sighed and stepped into the room, picking up a blanket the boys had tossed aside in their battle frenzy.

“It’s time for bed.”

“But we haven’t rescued the princess yet!” Hans protested.

“And we won’t,” Aldric replied, hands on his hips. “Because you’d rather count your gold than save her.”

“That is not how a prince should behave, Hans!” the Queen reprimanded, though now with a barely concealed smile.

“Alright, alright,” the little boy rolled his eyes and climbed into bed, though he refused to part with his sword, keeping it in his grasp like a royal scepter.

When their mother sat beside Aldric and began to tell a bedtime story, the older boy nestled under the blankets, listening with bright-eyed excitement. Hans, on the other hand, traced invisible patterns on his headboard with the tip of his sword, as if the tale was far less interesting than the grand battle he had just fought.

When the story ended, the Queen kissed Aldric’s forehead before turning to Hans with a warm smile.

“And you, my King? Why so quiet?”

Hans twirled his sword in the air, feigning indifference.

“Mother… where is Father?”

The Queen’s smile softened.

“Your father is busy this evening, my love. You know how much is required of him.”

Hans exhaled sharply and turned his head away.

“He is always busy.”

“You will see him in the morning,” she assured him, reaching to brush a stray lock of auburn hair from his forehead. “Before he leaves with your brother.”

At that, Hans stiffened. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his toy sword, his young face contorted in frustration.

“It is always ‘tomorrow.’ Always ‘later.’ But when it is Richard, he finds the time!”

The words burst from him, raw and unchecked. He sat up abruptly, his small frame taut with indignation. “He takes Richard with him everywhere. To meetings, to the council, even on rides through the city. They do things together. He talks to him. But he never—he never wants to do that with me.”

His voice faltered on the last words, yet the wound in them was unmistakable.

The Queen cupped his cheek with tenderness.

"I'm sorry you feel this way, my dear prince," she murmured. "I will speak to him about it, I promise."

Hans didn’t answer. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and turned away, as if he didn’t want her to see him like that.

“Hans…”

“It’s fine, I suppose someone has to be the favorite son.”

Before he could react, his mother lunged at him, trapping him in an embrace and covering his face in kisses.

”Favorite?! Favorite?! Hans Westergaard, how dare you say such a thing?!”

Hans shrieked, laughing and squirming in her grasp.

“Mother, no, stop, stop!”

“I will never let my little baby think such a horrible thing!”

Hans covered his face with his hands as she peppered his forehead, cheeks, and nose with loud kisses.

“Mother, stop! I’m not a baby!”

She cupped his face gently and whispered into his ear:

“You are my favorite son.”

Hans froze, eyes wide, until his mother laughed and placed one last kiss on his forehead.

“But don’t tell your brothers,” she added conspiratorially. “I wouldn’t want them to get jealous.”

Hans felt his heart swell in his chest. Was it a joke? Maybe. But… maybe not.

A sly grin spread across his face.

“Oh, I’m telling them. All of them.”

His mother gasped in mock horror. “Hans! You wouldn’t dare!”

Hans simply laughed, and to his delight, she laughed with him—a warm, rich sound that made him less lonely.

As their laughter faded into quiet, he shifted beneath the covers, glancing up at her.

“Mother, can you stay a little longer?”

His mother stroked his hair lovingly but shook her head.

“I need to say goodnight to your other brothers, sweetheart.”

Hans felt his chest deflate all at once.

“Oh.”

“Sweet dreams, my prince” she whispered, as she stood up blowing him a tender kiss before leaving the room.

The chamber was left in twilight, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window. Aldric lay still, his eyes closed, his breathing already slow and steady, the soft rise and fall of his chest betraying the peacefulness of his slumber.

Hans, however, remained awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression.

Perhaps, he thought, when he was older, his father would pay as much attention to him as he did to Richard.

Maybe, someday, everyone would.

◆◇◆

Today I read a few pages of A Frozen Heart, and honestly, I can’t.

From the very beginning, Hans’s life is portrayed as a complete nightmare: his father treats him like garbage, his mother doesn’t even pay attention to him, and his brothers openly despise him. There are no nuances, no moments of reprieve, just a hostile environment where Hans is basically an outcast in his own family.

And that’s what bothers me. Not all families are loving, but in most cases, even in dysfunctional families, there is usually some kind of attachment. A brother who cares about you even if he doesn’t always show it, a mother who, though distant, has moments of tenderness, a father who, despite being strict, has a reason for it. But here? No. Everyone seems to hate Hans. They don’t even ignore him; they actively despise him. It’s as if his only purpose in the story is to make his life miserable.

And it’s not just the family—the entire kingdom is also a complete misery. It’s as if everything is designed for Hans to grow up in the worst possible environment, and in the end, obviously, he becomes a horrible person. It feels forced. There’s no room for interpretation or character complexity. It’s as if the book is telling you, “Look, everything in his life has been garbage, so he’s garbage too.”

As I turned the pages, everything just felt more exaggerated and sad. I already knew how the book ended—with Hans as the villain. I wasn’t expecting Hans to be a hero (I think Disney would go bankrupt if they showed him with even a bit of mercy), but I at least wanted (I hoped) some balance in his story.

In my version, I imagined something different. Even though Hans is the youngest of thirteen siblings, I thought his twelfth brother, being closest in age to him, could have been someone he shared more moments with. Although siblings can fight and have conflicts, they are also children, and children play together, form bonds, even in difficult environments. I liked the idea of exploring that dynamic, where not everything is pure hatred.

I also wanted to give more depth to the queen’s character. In A Frozen Heart, Hans’s mother seems indifferent, but I believe that, no matter how busy she was, at some point, she must have felt love for her children. I don’t imagine her as a perfect mother, but as someone who, within her responsibilities, tried to be affectionate when she could. On the other hand, I see the king as more distant, focused on his duties with no real connection to the children, which would have affected Hans in a more subtle and realistic way, leaving him desperate for some of his attention.

I wrote several fragments of this story with this vision in mind because I believe Hans’s story could have been much more interesting and nuanced, instead of simply making him a victim of an environment where everything and everyone is horrible without exception.

What do you think? Did you read Frozen Heart? Did I make a rushed judgment about the story? Am I mistaken?

More please...

Now

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Im not kidding in the tags btw @stychu-stych i WILL write dialog for you if need be

HAPPY NEW YEAR🎉🎊 HERE'S YOUR CAT IN PAIN

I got a lot of asks about Narinder's resurrection. At first I planned to do only one page, maybe two, and put the rest in the description. But as I said a few times, I'm not good at writing, I feel much more comfortable in making comics. And there'll be more parts for sure, because I couldn't sleep one night so I was thinking and planning the rest of the plot

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT because it took me some time FVFHNDFB

A jedi on the run post Order 66 and the bounty hunter who tracks him down and accidentally falls in love with him.

Drabble Challenge!

Repost this. Followers/Readers send numbers to your Ask. You write a fic/drabble using that line in your piece. Have fun! Expect a ton of requests!! 

“That’s starting to get annoying”

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“You can’t just sit there all day.”

“I’m too sober for this.”

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“I need a place to stay.”

“Well, that’s tragic.”

“You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

“Dear Diary, …”

“She’s hiding behind the sofa.”

“I lost our baby.”

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep.”

“I’d kill for a coffee…literally.”

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“You’re Satan.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse. You can’t just give me wet-willies.”

“I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”

“Did you just hiss at me?”

“Do you really need all that candy?”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“I swear, I’m not crazy!!!”

“The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

“No. Regrets.”

“How drunk was I?”

“How is my wife more badass than me?”

“Be you. No one else can.”

“I haven’t slept in ages.”

“I locked the keys in the car.”

“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

“You work for me. You are my slave.”

“Take your medicine.”

“They’re monsters.”

“Welcome to fatherhood.”

“Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”

“It’s your turn to make dinner.”

“The kids, they ambushed me.”

“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!!!”

“Stop being so cute.”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

“You’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final.”

“I was a joke, baby. I swear.”

“Dogs don’t wear clothes!”

“I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…”

“Safety first. What are you? FIVE?”

“This is girl talk, so leave.”

“Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?”

“There’s a herd of them!”

“Do you think I’m scared of a woman?”

“They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”

“You’re a nerd.”

“I’m late.”

“Just get home as soon as possible, okay?!”

“You smell like a wet dog.”

“I could punch you right now.”

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

“If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?”

“Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?”

“Here, take my blanket.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“How could I ever forget about you?”

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

“Run for it!”

“We need to talk.”

“Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that. It’s annoying.”

“I want a pet.”

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Quit beating me up!”

“Please put your penis away.”

“It’s a Texas thing.”

“Don’t argue. Just do it.”

“I hope I’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.”

“Does he know about the baby?”

“Hold still.”

“I just ironed these pants!”

“Enough with the sass!”

“Show me what’s behind your back.”

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”

“Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”

“Stay awake.”

“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!”

“You’re not interested, are you?”

“I’m not buying ikea furniture again.”

“Tell me you need me.”

“Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”

“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”

“I had a bad dream again.”

“Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.”

“It’s Christmas, don’t be mad at me.”

“You’re not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving.”

“The store ran out of Easter eggs.”

“How could you forget your son’s birthday?”

“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

Visit @prompt-bank for more prompts!!

us but if it was the sixteenth century

they ended tragically but let’s ignore that

pleasepleasepleaseplease that so sweet i love you

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

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

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

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Honestly? Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

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

“That’s my girl.”

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

“Is there anything else you need?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

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

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

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

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

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

“Alright,” He agreed.

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

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

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

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