#Arakiel

[the-east-art]

Made some of the prologue of Ode to the Tree into a comic for fun

[neonmetro]

project martyr designs ^_^

project martyr - comprised of a team of former researchers and weapon experts experimenting with souls for aishire corp., everyone who was involved in the first project martyr have been put into a killing game show whose prize is the winner's freedom and re-installation of their citizenship in novaturient

in order from left to right: reficul, peneume, kesabel, gadriel, chemosh, abaddon, beelzebub, azazel, samyaza, tamiel, arakiel, moloch, bezaliel

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Fame and Fortune || Jae-min Jun Epilogue

Being home after everything was comforting, a sense of weight being lifted off Jae-min’s shoulders as he finally found himself back in the company of friends and family. Truthfully you’d think being missing for so long would have more of an impact on his life, on the way people saw him, on anything, but it was rather simple for him to find himself a place back in the world. The only major change initially was his announcing that he wouldn’t be participating in water polo as a sport anymore to pursue higher education. All things considered, given recent events and all, there wasn’t much pushback to this. It was true that the olympic team had lost a star player and in no way was it going to be a smooth process in finding somebody to replace him, but with the support of his brothers, Jae-min was happy to pursue his next steps in life. About a month passed after coming home, most of it was spent looking into moving overseas to be with Erisu, as it turned out her situation would take her back to japan. His family was rather supportive of this step in his life, his mother and sisters especially, while Jae-min’s relationship with his father became rather tense early on. Over the course of the game, Jae-min had learned much of his fathers behaviour and attitude towards women was rather harmful, and there was a certain level of resentment towards the man for pushing him into the life he had pursued. If he had not been convinced by his father that his bullying was a healthy pursuit, he wondered if he would have the thoughts he did now. It wasn’t something worth considering for long. Despite the time and effort Jae-min put into becoming better overall, it wasn’t like he was a different man. The cruel and unpleasant thoughts were still there, he still enjoyed the pain of others, he still was a bit of an asshole, and that much wasn’t going to change. He could wish he was different all he wanted, but what really mattered was how many of those thoughts he expressed and how healthy his outlets were. 

While still within Korea, the final thing that Jae-min ensured he did was to provide some support to Ae-ra’s family. He had no intentions of getting himself involved mind you, he didn’t need to meet her brother that was for sure, but he did feel the need to make amends, so he made an anonymous and rather sizable donation to her family and left it at that. It couldn’t bring her back, but it was the most he could do to say he was sorry. Every now and then, Jae-min would return to Korea to see family and he would visit her grave whenever possible. He couldn’t bring himself to speak to any of the dead in the virtual world, he simply couldn’t get past his feelings that those were not the people he had known.

The move to Japan was a lengthy process, but after a month or so of work, Jae-min moved in with Erisu in a small home in rural Japan.

Things weren’t exactly perfect at first obviously, there was still the fact she was on house arrest and was helping deal with the aftermath of the Erika fiasco, but at the very least he felt comfortable being close to the person he loved most in this world. That was enough for him. \

Five years of house arrest meant a lot of time together, and over those five years, a lot happened. The first was the discovery that Erisu was pregnant with her first child, which as it turned out wasn’t even his, but rather Erika N Danger’s, a notable development which certainly made Jae-min anxious, but not so much because he was upset with the development, he really didn’t mind the fact it wasn’t his, he just knew this meant potentially raising a child. After long talks, END decided it would be best for the child to be raised by Jae-min and Erisu while she sorted out her life back home, resigning herself to the position of cool aunt who was around from time to time. The child could be informed of the truth at a later age. This however, naturally, meant despite not being his, Jae-min would need to be a father to this child, which he had anticipated anyways. A lot of the anxieties of fatherhood were mostly vented out to Erik A and Byrne who were thankfully still both willing to remain close to him after the events of the game, but were more than helpful in keeping him calm through the whole process. Nine months later, Akari was born. Raising a child did put things on hold somewhat, but with Erisu pursuing her career in Vocaloid and being able to stay home, this didn’t interfere with his plans of going back to school, which he delayed one more year to ensure he could be there for the child during that time. As time passed, eventually Jae-min found himself not only applying for school for a degree in neuroscience, but also seeking out some level of therapy due to the many promises he made to Erik A after the fact.

Speaking of Erik A, it wasn’t like the two of them were growing distant by any means, sure they had to keep up their social life through the internet mostly, but Jae-min had gotten rather used to talking to people through group chats surprisingly, and was happy to interact with the other on a semi-daily basis. Byrne was also somebody he kept in close contact with, not quite as often as Erik A mind you, but at least weekly catching up and talking about life and how it was progressing. Truthfully the only hard part of it was having to improve his english skills which were rather lacking. If Byrne wanted, he was happy to invite him to visit sometime in the future once he and Erisu had their life sorted out, and in exchange, Jae-min promised to do the same.

School was good for him, he opted for hybrid courses, and only really needed to travel to the school itself every now and then for work that couldn’t be done online. A lot of his classes however were a breeze, he was an intelligent man, always had been, and this was a field that he had taken new interest in after everything that had happened. One could argue the killing game gave him some level of advantage that he wouldn’t have otherwise had, so that was one positive for him. Therapy was also helpful, he was able to get a far better handle on his urges than he was able to in the killing game itself, which was helpful enough.

Life continued to go well for him, he cut his hair, got more piercings, and even started wearing shirts for once in his life, though even that was still kept to a minimum. Eventually five years came and went, and Erisu and him were still plenty happy together, living a comfortable life. He even made a rather notable effort to at least be on normal terms with Erisu’s sisters, mostly in the form of being friendly and not holding too much of a grudge for the whole killing game experiment thing. It wasn’t that difficult for him to let that go though, given how his brain tended to work that way.

During this time, Byrne visited now and then, mostly while in the process to visit KOKONE, which was a rather convenient situation truthfully. Having a lot of friends in Japan meant visiting it more often, and Jae-min was happy to help the others with any costs should it have been necessary. He was still making a lot of money through shockingly advertising work. He was strong, impressive looking, and conventionally attractive, he made a great model for sports advertisements. This allowed him to stay in the sport scene, which he did eventually feel a calling to return to to some degree, and also to maintain his fanbase by capitalising on their interest in him. Not to mention surviving the killing game netted him a lot of press attention after the fact. He was by no means a small celebrity, but he kept his life with Erisu as private as possible. He also started getting back into swimming after going through intensive therapy, and started competing competitively once again, though only as a hobby, he had no dreams of making it a career anymore. He would mostly sign up for local and city competitions for swimming races, deciding that Water Polo just wasn’t for him.

Speaking of Water Polo, Jae-min and Seung-yoon Ryu became closer than ever after he moved to Japan, staying in touch through texting mostly at first, before the other received their Ultimate title in Water Polo and decided to call it quits immediately after, having achieved the highest honour in any field. Following in his brother's footsteps, Seung-yoon moved in rather nearby to Jae-min and Erisu, and they became local friends once again, and would remain so for the rest of Jae-min’s life. Once her house arrest ended, the two decided that they were comfortable enough with their financial situation as Jae-min graduated with his PhD and pursued work in the science field, that the two of them were ready for a second child. Another nine months passed, and Yukari was born.

Almost six years or so had passed by this point. Jae-min had done a lot, he had achieved a lot, and now with two children to his name, life was going well. Some time after Erisu was free from the burdens of her past, no longer being bound to their house, Jae-min and her got married. The marriage was unavoidably large, with his side of the family being rather loud, as well as invitations to close friends of both of them. Byrne in particular was important to have on Jae-min’s invitation list, as a thank you for inviting him out to his own wedding, but also for sticking with him through everything. 

As time passed further, and the kids began to come into their own personalities, the two were just about as chaotic as one might expect from being raised by two eccentric and somewhat unhinged parents. Yukari was something of a trouble maker, they got into trouble a lot and by no means did they get along with their peers. That being said, as far as their parents were concerned, Yukari could do no wrong. This of course only enabled the child further into a somewhat delinquent-esc personality. In addition to this, they were rather sporty, which was mostly influenced by their father’s interest in the field, and Yukari found themselves taking Kendo classes in school. On the flipside, Akari was a bit of a go-getter, very reliable, good grades, and being six years older than her baby sibling, rather protective of her. She took after her mother (and aunty END) far more than she did Jae-min, and as a result was a little more down to earth than the chaos that was Yukari.

Notably, at some point in Yukari’s early life, Erik A ended up coming by to visit to meet the family and also catch up given how much time had passed since they had last met each other in person. This manifested in a rather notable event where Yukari being how they were… they bit Erik A… and in response for the sake of comedy Erik A bit Yukari’s hand in return. This of course only encouraged Yukari to bite harder, and required Jae-min to pry them off of Erik A. This thankfully didn’t ruin the trip at all, but it sure did shape the vibes for the rest of the trip. Yukari needed to effectively be child leashed around other people most of the time.

Time came and went, lives continued and life was good.Jae-min was happy. That was what mattered in the end. He was successful still, he made good money, he had a thriving fanbase and celebrity status. But most importantly, despite all of the turmoil, he married Erisu, and had two beautiful children. He was satisfied.  Oh and he also never used the name Arakiel again.

[daevadante]

if you're really so uncomfortable with yourself then

get rid of yourself

[d3mon-ology]

He’d break me open if I asked him to, wouldn’t he?

— Andrew Joseph White, Hell Followed With Us

[instant-angel-chaos]

[ OPEN STARTER - Arakiel ]

Open to: all (don't interact if under 18 please!) Plot: Arakiel, an angel, is guarding your muse. (Whether your muse is aware of this or not is up to you or we can talk about it in dm's!) Although being laid back most of the time, keeping your muse safe and clear from harms way has proven to be much harder than he anticipated. Either your muse seems to be getting into trouble a lot or trouble seems to following them a lot. Arakiel approaches your muse, voicing his concern about keeping your muse safe for the first time. (Whether this is your muse's first time hearing about this or they already know what he's doing is up to you!) Connection: Any, really! Can be a first interaction, they can be friends beforehand - your muse can be fed up with Arakiel constantly looking after them, they can be grateful.. you choose! Place: Any - an alleyway in the dark? a calm corner at the bar? Where has your muse gotten into harms way and Arakiel has come to their rescue?

"You're unbelievable," Arakiel scoffed. Although his tone was harsh, it didn't lack clear empathy and vivid concern. The angel let go of the wrist he had firmly clasped within his hand, unclenching his tight jaw with a sigh. "It's like you're trying to get hurt!"

It had been a long time since he'd had someone 'assigned' to him. Someone he had to look after, keep safe at all costs. Although a lot of his angelic duties made Arakiel simply laugh or roll his eyes, the bond which he shared to the one he was looking after was simply too strong for him to break with pure willpower. Whenever they were in danger, he could tell. Whenever they got hurt, he could feel it. The constant worrying was driving the angel insane - he much more enjoyed a laid back lifestyle of no worrying, no responsibilities than whatever the hell this was.

"Could you take a night off-? From whatever-the-fuck you're doing right now and not get in trouble for five goddamn minutes?" his request was accompanied by a breathy half-laugh, masking his worry behind a lighter smile. The look suited him a lot better; he looked a lot less threatening that way.

[ganja-satoru]

2023

[cappulcino]

Seven Days Til Fall (Part 7)

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Read on AO3

Words: 6,666

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader

Summary: You're an angel sent on a divine mission to retrieve a powerful relic that has been stolen from Heaven. The orders are clear: gain an audience with the Devil, make deals with them if necessary, anything to return that object to the Silver City. But Hell is not quite what you expected, and neither is Lucifer.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, non-graphic mentions of nudity and sex, slight wing kink

Midnight approached, and you could feel the quiet shift, the final moments of the sixth day slipping into the seventh as you tried to define the complex emotions coursing through your mind.

Soon, you would be walking down the same path Lucifer had when they were still Samael, Heaven would cast you down and Hellfire would come. How much would it hurt? More than you could imagine, undoubtedly more than you deserved.

The unknown weighed heavily, yet, deep beneath the fear, lay something else –a strange, unexpected peace. The end of everything you had ever known was near and it felt as terrifying as it was liberating. This path would lead you to the Morningstar, and in their realm, you would live on. In Hell, you would be free.

Chants began resonating from the heart of the Silver City. You knew what that meant. It was midnight. The seventh day had begun.

The door to your cell promptly opened then, and you closed your eyes to take a few deep breaths. Masked guards unfastened your chains from the wall and firmly gripped your arms to put you on your feet. Your heart was thumping, your knees wobbling with fear and yet, you found yourself smirking.

The guards took you to the Pearly Gates where every angel in Heaven seemed to be present, gathered in vast ranks stretching out beneath the Divine Light. Their voices rose in an anthem, praising God's justice and the Fall of Evil, but somehow, amidst the celestial harmonies, you failed to recognise the fervour the same angels had expressed when Lucifer had fallen all those aeons ago.

Then, Heaven had rejoiced with absolute conviction; you had been the only one not to sing –so you had found out from Gabriel the other night. But now, as your eyes moved through the assembly, you noticed things had changed. So many angels were barely singing, murmuring the words with their gazes fleeting or riveted to their feet.

Somewhere in the distance, you caught sight of Camael. Their purple eyes were of those that refused to watch the scene unfolding before them, and their mouth was forming words but not of praise –it seemed more like a prayer, a farewell whispered in your honour.

Not far from them, Muriel had decided to join the chorus, but her expression was anything but celebratory. She looked almost as if she were scolding herself, disappointment shadowing her usually cheerful traits.

Finally, among the Archangels, Arakiel's eyes shimmered as if on the verge of tears, though their face remained proud and their lips moved mechanically.

Seeing all your former peers like this stirred a strange emotion in you, a spark of hope, and you couldn't help but think that maybe your defiance would mean something. Maybe someday angels would question these chains and silences, the fearful compliance. Maybe you wouldn't fall in vain.

After a lengthy look at the Silver City and a small nod to those you could have once almost called friends to assure them you would be fine, you turned to the Pearly Gates.

The members of the Divine Council and the Metatron stood unwavering on each side, smug superiority in their stance, although betrayed by a certain bitterness. They had wanted to see you obliterated in the Hellfire, not alive under the Devil's protection.

"Such a shame," Michael murmured with an edge of disappointment as you walked by him, though his eyes were the coldest you had ever seen them. "We had placed a great deal of faith in you. Truly."

You turned to him fully, your voice sharp, a determined look on your face.

"So had I. Shameful, indeed."

Michael's expression flickered, but you moved past him, facing the Gates. With a mighty surge, they began to open, revealing the edge of Heaven. You stepped through and considered throwing one last glance at the place you once called home, or maybe even saying something to the angels awaiting your Fall.

But what was there to tell them? Most of them would not listen, so you figured a resolute silence would be more meaningful and you stayed still, your wings held high.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, became charged with a power greater than anything in the infinite universe, and you felt the Presence. God was now here, and though you knew the angels behind you were still singing, you couldn't hear them any more. It was just you and Him.

An overwhelming sensation engulfed you, hateful, though you realised it was not so different from the so-called love you had felt at the moment of your creation. Interesting.

God reached down and, with mighty strength, lifted you by the wings, holding you aloft in front of Him. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the weight of eternity suspended in His hands, and you shivered.

"And thus we meet again," you said, your voice surprisingly steady considering the turmoil raging inside you.

God did not answer. He never did –not to you, at least. But His energy spoke for Him, and you understood the disappointment and blame emanating from Him.

You knew it would be useless to defend your case now, and you didn't even want to. You had said it yesterday, you would not ask for forgiveness any more. You also knew it was too late to demand an explanation and that God would not give it to you anyway. But you had things weighing on your heart and you would not see God ever again. You had to speak now or forever hold your peace.

"Oh, my God, why have You forsaken me? Here I stand, condemned for nothing but my mind and my heart. I was once taught You had love for Your children even while they were still sinners, that no sin was truly unforgivable in Your sight. And so I believed. I believed in a God who loved even those who strayed from the path, a God who longed for each soul to return to the Light, who would always be there to guide me. Instead, You hid Yourself and left only Your Law –Your confusing, irrational Law. How was I supposed to understand that what I was doing was wrong?"

Faced with nothing but indifference, you looked up at the sky, aimlessly searching for an answer.

"I was merely seeking the Truth. You knew the way that I was taking, You have tested me. Why not make me know my transgression and my sin if I was so corrupted? And if I was to follow You blindly, why did You not make me of steel and stone? Why did You allow me to feel? I have tried to faithfully serve You and now look at the danger I am in. God, oh, my God… Have I feared You for nothing?"

Again, your desperate words were only met with silence. You sighed heavily. Was it all the Creator, this omnipotent and omniscient being, could do? Order to be obeyed and cast all resistance away like chaff in the wind?

"If all of this was known to You… If this end was Your design, if that is what You truly are, then I cannot regret choosing for myself. I can see, at last, that, perhaps, this was always the way."

Against all odds, a small, sour chuckle escaped your throat.

"In fact, I realise it is quite alright. Let it be, Father. I forgive You."

There was nothing left to say, and God could hear no more complaints. Thunder boomed under the heavenly vault and then, suddenly, you felt your skin tear and your wings snap like dead branches, violently ripped off your back.

And so, like the fragile autumn leaf, you fell.

The world, the whole universe began to spin around you. You were nowhere and everywhere all at once. Light and darkness collided. Your sense of time blurred, and you weren't sure if it was slowing down, accelerating, or if it had stopped altogether. Moments flashed before your eyes, past and present merged. Memories flooded in –laughter, tears, warmth, and cold. Faces and places flickered like shadows. Home. Lucifer. Prison. Isolation. God. Joy. Despair.

Everything was chaotic, yet so clear. You saw every choice, every doubt, every moment you wished you could change. There was a cacophony of emotions in your heart. You were nothing yet finally becoming something. Fear gripped your heart. Relief washed over you. You were free, but the price was steep.

With no wings to slow you down, your body ignited with the heat of your descent. It burnt, but you felt nothing. Not yet. The pain seemed distant as if belonging to someone else. Your Fall appeared like a never-ending death but still you lived.

Your body flipped again, and, for the very last time, you saw the Divine Light and heard the angels sing. That only lasted a brief moment before profound darkness swallowed you whole, a ludicrous cocoon, protecting you for the final instants of your Fall.

You hopelessly tried to brace yourself for impact.

And then crashed into Hell.

Your ears rang with the force of the shock, plunging you into a deafening silence. Your eyes were clouded with tears but still, you noticed a shape coming closer.

Lucifer.

The Lightbringer was rushing to your side, followed by Mazikeen, and then ungracefully collapsed on the ashy ground.

Your ears suddenly unclogged when they did and the first thing you heard was a blaring, high-pitched shrill. It took you a moment to realise it was coming out of your mouth.

"We have you," Lucifer attempted to reassure you as they scooped you in their arms. "You are not alone."

Your blood quickly ran down their hands and arms, tainted their robes. You were squirming ferociously, too, trying to fight the searing pain, but they never let you go. If anything, their embrace seemed to tighten.

You weren't too aware of it, but demons, alerted by the bright light coming down from Hell's orange sky and the echo of your Fall, had started to gather all around, ready to witness the transformation they had all once been through.

Indeed, new wings began to grow in your back, piercing through your tender flesh. Your eyes snapped in horror and your hands clumsily clutched Lucifer's tunic and everywhere you could while your shrieking doubled, resonating through the whole kingdom. And yet the Morningstar held on, even when you scratched their face.

"We know, We know."

Lucifer knew their words were vain, but still they tried to console you and make the torturous transition somewhat easier.

"We know, little dove. Breathe, it is almost over. Shh..."

But you were panting, contorting in impossible ways, and your head was starting to spin.

It felt atrocious, and not only physically. The psychological pain was just as intolerable. You felt like a newborn violently snatched from the womb. You were lost, had no idea what to do with all that freedom, and felt an inexplicable need to crawl back to your toxic certainties, and to the places and people you knew, those who had once made you believe you were safe.

Lucifer kept shushing you as more and more demons gathered, and then it was done. Your Fall was over. You were no longer an angel.

Your pain was still very much present and your wounds were still dripping, but you were now too weak to express your agony. You felt like fainting and you vaguely heard Lucifer encourage you not to resist it. So you didn't, and your head lolled against their chest.

By then, you were too confused to fully register anything that was happening but managed to grasp a few things nonetheless.

First, Lucifer's scent. You hadn't noticed it before, but it was probably the best thing that had ever hit your senses –warm, comforting, grounding, with faint notes of amber and burned incense, and undertones of hemlock.

Then you felt their regal arms move under your body and lift you off the ground with ease, mindful to support your head and avoid touching your back as much as they could.

Lucifer paused once they were standing as if silently presenting you to their court. At that moment, you heard swords clatter and vaguely noticed from the corner of your eye that it was Mazikeen who had let them fall. And then, as Lucifer slowly began walking towards their palace, carrying you like a bride, you heard more weapons hit the ground and saw the demons around you line up. Even the Damned seemed to have stopped screaming.

Heaven had watched you leave with a walk of shame; Hell welcomed you with a guard of honour.

You were already in and out of consciousness by the time Lucifer took you inside. You weren't sure where they had taken you but felt them lay you on a soft and warm mattress.

Still, the contact with your back and newly-grown wings hurt and made you wince and hiss.

"Lucifer…" you whimpered pitifully.

"We are right here. We are not leaving you."

"Lucifer…"

"We know."

You thought you felt fingers graze your forehead, but it could have very well been the fruit of your imagination. You were delirious and close to fainting again.

And thus you spent a great deal of the night and early morning between states of consciousness. Once, you woke up to feel Lucifer plump the pillow you rested on, only to immediately fall back asleep. Then you opened your eyes again and saw the Morningstar waiting with a bowl of warm broth, which you refused –that scene actually happened twice and you weren't sure in which order. Another time, you woke up screaming and crying once more, widely agitated, and Lucifer stopped you from hurting yourself any further and wiped your tears.

That went on for what seemed an eternity, and you weren't even sure how long had passed since your Fall. You were exhausted, and if Lucifer was, too, they didn't show it.

"Relax now," they whispered eventually, trying to lull you to sleep once and for all. "Even God rested on the seventh day."

You felt a strange pressure on your forehead, warm and delicate, but were unable to make out what it was. And already, you were falling into the deepest slumber you had ever known.

You had no idea how many hours had passed when you woke up next, and there was no way to know. Several, you guessed, because your back had finally stopped bleeding and you felt your new set of wings settling in. They hurt like… well, like Hell.

Sitting up in the bed painstakingly, you tried to recall what had happened since your Fall. You didn't remember much, except for Lucifer's gentle hands and soft gaze, always present each time you had come to.

But once you were completely seated, you realised the Lightbringer was nowhere to be seen this time. You felt a pang of disappointment as they had said they would not be leaving but understood. They still had a kingdom to rule, one that had just welcomed a new immortal denizen; they couldn't possibly stay at your bedside all day long.

You took the time to look around you. The bed first, enormous and soft as clouds, was draped in dark silks and woven blankets, with intricate embroidery glinting like stars across the fabric. The bedposts were made of polished obsidian, each carved with scenes that seemed to dance and shift as you looked at them –figures falling and rising, like the story of every Fallen etched in stone. Pillows in dark red, silver, and black were piled around you, catching the faint light and making the space feel safe.

You noticed the grand furnishing next: a firepit, burning with the same Hellfire that had almost killed you yesterday; shelves, carved directly in the black marble of the high walls and holding ancient artefacts, books bound in leather, and crystalline vials containing swirling mists and colours you had no names for.

As you took in the room's subdued opulence, it dawned on you. This was no ordinary guest chamber. This was Lucifer's own sanctuary. The idea that the Morningstar had brought you to the one place most private to them made your chest tighten.

Your eyes kept scanning the room, and then, noticing a full-length mirror inlaid with gemstones nearby, you decided to stand up and take a closer look at yourself.

It took all of your strength to extricate yourself from the bed and to cross the room without falling. Your muscles hurt and your wings seemed to have a different weight than before; you weren't sure how to stand.

When you finally managed to reach the mirror, you couldn't help but gasp at your reflection. Bruised, burnt here and there, covered in dried blood, you hardly recognised yourself. Your robes, once pristine white, were now ashy grey and tattered. They barely hung on by a thread and you guessed the only reason they had been left on your body was to give you a semblance of modesty.

Then of course the biggest change in your appearance was your wings. Black with a slight mahogany undertone when the light hit them right and leathery, they reminded you of Lucifer's, though you felt like you didn't sport them nearly as well as they did.

After looking at your reflection for a while, it began to look foreign, and you suddenly felt the need to glance down at your body as if to make sure that what the mirror showed was true. And it was. You had no idea what to make of the emotions this new truth stirred. You looked half-dead, felt half-alive.

Absorbed by your thoughts –or better yet, the lack thereof; you rather felt absorbed by the silence post-chaos in your mind–, you didn't hear the door opening behind you.

"You're awake."

Despite its softness, Lucifer's voice startled you, making you look up to meet their gaze through the mirror.

"We were not sure you would wake up any more today."

You looked down at yourself again, somewhat ashamed by your dishevelled appearance –you were truly in no fit condition to stand in the presence of your new sovereign. You were also ashamed of the scratch you had left on their face and that they still hadn't taken the time to heal as well as of the state you surely had left their previous tunic in.

But Lucifer didn't seem to mind. They knew what you were going through and had already seen you at your worst. When they spoke again, their voice sounded even softer and almost hesitant.

"We brought you some new clothes," they said, putting the garments down on a nearby hassock. "We have also had some ointment made. For your back. Your wounds are not of the kind that Our powers can heal."

The consideration made you smile, but sadness quickly took over. Lucifer had fallen first, crashing all alone into Hell, with no one to dry their tears or soothe their pain, hence why they knew exactly what you needed. The mere thought was enough to break your heart.

"Thank You, Lightbringer. The ruler of Hell must know my gratitude towards Them is infinite."

"Please…"

Had Lucifer's tone been any weaker, it would have become beseeching. Their plea made your heart clench even harder.

"Do not be so ceremonious. Not now."

"I merely wish to thank my Lord for Their benevolence."

Without even turning around, you felt Lucifer tense behind you.

"You are not Our subject," they retorted as if wanting to berate you for even thinking such a thing.

"Am I not?" you asked, your smile widening ever so slightly.

Lucifer didn't answer that. You weren't their subject. They had said so once and hated to repeat themself.

"We will call for a servant to tend to your wings," they said instead.

"I would rather not," you replied without missing a beat. Your wings, just like your heart, had been mistreated too much. You would never let a stranger touch them ever again.

There was a moment of silence and you wondered if Lucifer understood your underlying request or if they would leave you to get by on your own.

But then you heard the distinct sound of a jar being opened followed by footsteps, and Lucifer's reflection appeared in the mirror behind yours while the air around you filled with the scent of honey, yarrow, turmeric, and arnica.

"We need to…" Lucifer's voice trailed and you heard them swallow thickly.

You understood they didn't dare to move the shredded panel of cloth that covered the space between your wings, so you reached with difficulty over your shoulders and pulled the fabric yourself to reveal your back.

The sight made Lucifer's breath hitch no matter how hard they tried to prevent it. Not only did you hear it, but you also felt the warmth hitting the nape of your neck, and your hair immediately stood on end.

Neither of you dared to speak or look at each other through the mirror as Lucifer scooped a bit of healing balm on their fingers and started applying it to your wounds, at the base of your wings. They were being extremely careful and you could feel their hands tremble, proof that they were worried they would hurt you.

Finding comfort in their touch, you slightly leaned back to let them know it was alright. Not that you weren't in pain –you were, deeply. But the pain was somehow easier to deal with the closer you were to the Morningstar.

Again, Lucifer gasped quietly. Your gesture could be considered daring, and they were evidently unsure how to react. Yet, soon enough you felt their fingertips trailing up your wings, along your sore muscles. You shivered then and found yourself unable to tell if it was more from the pain or that unknown feeling sparkling inside your chest.

Regardless, the sudden movement brought Lucifer back to reality, and finally their voice broke the silence, barely a whisper.

"We… I am sorry."

At these words, you finally looked up at Lucifer's reflection. You knew what they were sorry for –for forgetting about etiquette and the customary distance they should have kept between you two; for causing you pain, just now as well as days ago; and most of all, for not finding a better way to save your life than causing your Fall.

But what surprised you the most was the change in pronouns. Like many monarchs would, Lucifer never said "I" unless they were in the presence of someone they trusted and the matter was personal. And as you looked at Lucifer through the mirror, at the way their eyes roamed on the expense of your wounded back and wings, you realised they had made your Fall personal. You were personal.

You remained silent for a while, feeling the warmth in your chest spread further down. And once you were certain your heart and mind agreed with one another, you replied in earnest.

"I'm not."

It was now Lucifer's turn to lift their head. Their eyes found yours in the mirror, so full of emotions, filling with hope as their chin quivered. They looked so vulnerable, and you finally understood what that unfamiliar feeling creeping through your body and burning your heart was, for you realised you had fallen twice this week.

Down to Hell.

And in love with Lucifer Morningstar.

Slowly, steered by pure instinct, you pulled on what was left of your angelic robes, tearing them off your body, and revealed yourself entirely to the ruler of Hell. Your eyes never let go of their reflection as you did so, waiting to see their reaction.

It was immediate, though not exactly everything you had hoped for. Indeed, Lucifer averted their eyes, staring at the ceiling in despair, and you figured they felt as lost as you were. Still, you mustered what little self-confidence you had left and insisted, turning around to encourage them to look at you and this shattered body you offered them.

It worked. Briefly. And then Lucifer looked away again.

"Why are you doing this?" they whimpered more than they asked. "What do you want?"

Their question was legitimate. After all, the last time Lucifer had got too close, you had rejected them.

Once again moved by forces beyond your understanding, you reached out with trembling hands to seize the lapels of their robes. Lucifer stiffened, their eyes widening slightly, but they didn't pull away.

"To worship the Devil," you said your voice suddenly dropping to a lower tone you had no idea you could reach.

And as you felt the weight of those words settle in the air between you, you used their robes for support, pulling yourself up and closer, your mouth now merely an inch from their ear.

"Show me how," you whispered then.

Lucifer's body tensed even more, and you could feel the subtle tremor in their frame. You pulled back, letting your nose slide along their cheek, the barest hint of contact, before your eyes met again. This time, Lucifer didn't look away. Their gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling in their eyes –desire, uncertainty, restraint.

In fact, it seemed that Lucifer doubted that you were in full possession of your faculties. They knew all too well how traumatic the Fall could be and were worried that your sudden boldness came from confusion rather than genuine want. They did not want you to later feel used, nor did they want to get hurt.

But you saw their pupils dilating, and that gave you enough confidence to cup their jaw, your thumb just under their bottom lip as you let the tip of your nose poke their cheek and your lips hover over theirs, testing the waters. The touch was light, barely there, but enough to send a spark of electricity through your entire being and make that building heat in your chest drop down to your lower abdomen.

Lucifer decided to take a chance then and tentatively placed their lips on yours, without moving them at first. But that was all it took to make their wings shudder and spread violently, an involuntary reaction that betrayed their carefully guarded control. The sight of their wings trembling made your heart leap. It confirmed everything.

Lucifer wanted you.

Encouraged by this knowledge, you inhaled sharply and leaned in, pressing your body fully against theirs, seeking out more of that intoxicating closeness. This time, you kissed them with purpose, and Lucifer responded in kind, their lips moving against yours with growing urgency.

When you felt the tip of their tongue against your mouth, you realised you were unsure what to do, but decided to trust your instinct and parted your lips. Lucifer let you know that this was the right thing to do with a low, guttural growl that made your knees weak, and the kiss deepened, your tongues meeting in a slow, passionate dance.

Without parting, Lucifer crouched slightly to wrap their arms around your thighs and lift you up. A faint noise of surprise escaped your mouth, and your own wings unfurled before a smile came to grace your lips as you realised the Lightbringer was carrying you back to bed.

They laid you down carefully, as though you were something precious –deeply fragile, but desired beyond measure– and, inevitably, your gaze dropped to the expense of cleavage now revealed as gravity pulled their neckline down.

They sat up and your chest heaved in anticipation as you waited for them to undress. And when they did, the sight stole the air from your lungs. Devil or not, Lucifer remained the most beautiful creature the Lord had ever fashioned.

"Magnificent…" The word slipped out of your mouth before you had even finished forming the thought.

Lucifer smiled then. But their smile was not smug; the pride you had expected was instead replaced by relief as if Lucifer had been worried not to be to your liking and had needed the reassurance that somebody would want them not for their well-known ability to engage in lustful sins, but because they found genuine beauty in their body and soul. And you did.

Lucifer leaned forward, their gaze tender, studying every detail of your face as if they were seeing you for the first time. And they might as well be, for everything you once were was no more and you were like clay demanding to be shaped anew.

Lucifer's touch was gentle, reverent, patient, so much more than skin against skin –it felt as though their very presence was seeping into yours, filling the cracks Heaven had left in your soul, and you were suddenly not hurting any more. You surrendered entirely to the moment, and it was as if time held its breath, the Silver City and Hell themselves fading away, leaving only the two of you joined in a space beyond mere existence.

The world indeed seemed to stop and blur, the air thick with anticipation, yet there was no rush, only a shared understanding that the two of you were breaking through boundaries that neither angels nor demons knew could be abolished.

"Is this alright?" Lucifer asked with care, their mouth nibbling at your pulse point.

Barely able to form a coherent thought, you nodded eagerly, desperately pushing your body against theirs with need. So Lucifer's smile widened before they captured your lips once more and let their nails rake along your arms, all the way to your palms until their fingers intertwined with yours and they brought your hands above your head.

And then you felt it.

What the Morningstar was doing to you was not too dissimilar to the earthly act and yet so different. It was something boundless, woven from light and shadow, a union of energies that transcended flesh. It was everything you had ever needed and even more, and, as you cried out loudly, you clutched their hands, happy to have something to hold on to and keep you grounded as you felt yourself fly somewhere so high you feared falling again.

"Lucifer!"

"Shh… I have you."

Never once did you feel abandoned indeed. Lucifer kept guiding you with unwavering tenderness and patience, understanding that this moment was delicate for you, a once-in-a-lifetime offering.

The intensity of your connection deepened, tension building as pleasure overtook you both. You loved Lucifer. You loved them so much. And you craved to tell them. But perhaps was it too soon for such heartfelt confessions, you weren't sure, and you couldn't speak anyway –your mouth was too busy either dancing with Lucifer's or chanting how good they were making you feel.

Still wanting to convey your feelings, you soon let go of Lucifer's hands, your own finding their way to their back, their waist, their hips and, finally, their wings. Lucifer's head dropped forward and the low, shuddering groan they let out then only spurred you on. You moaned even louder, your hips still rolling to move with theirs in unison.

Panting heavily, Lucifer cradled your head to bring you even closer while their free hand started stroking your wings, still scared to hurt you but wanting to give you the same pleasure you were procuring them.

And then, most unexpectedly, as if understanding your unspoken desires and fears and wanting to answer them, the ruler of Hell spoke the most beautiful words you had ever heard.

"I love you."

The words undid you, a sudden flood of warmth filling every inch of your body as you began quivering all over. The bliss made your back arch and you felt as if light exploded within you and you could see stars.

You screamed Lucifer's name and they screamed yours as their release followed, your wings shuddering uncontrollably together as the sensation rippled through your bodies in waves that seemed never-ending.

And then, as the wave ebbed, you both lay there breathless, utterly content, feeling a new kind of completeness settle within you. Lucifer's forehead pressed gently against yours, their wings folding protectively around you.

Despite the sudden weakness overtaking you, you wrapped your arms around their strong torso and pulled them closer, urging them to let their body cover yours. They did, and you smiled as their weight anchored you to the mattress and helped the trembling subside.

"You delivered me from Evil, Lucifer Morningstar," you whispered before planting a kiss on their temple. "And I love you, too."

You had lost count of how many hours you and Lucifer had spent making love before falling asleep in each other's embrace. Now you were admiring their peaceful state as they rested next to you, their expression still somewhat worn out from the intensity of this week's events but content.

After a while, you quietly slipped out of bed, hoping not to wake them up as you walked towards the hassock where they had left new clothes for you earlier. You picked the vestment up and the corner of your lips twitched slightly upwards.

They were silk, in a beautiful gradient from crimson red to obsidian black, too elegant for you. But what actually made you smile was how comfortable they looked and how thoughtful Lucifer had been, choosing a halter top that would leave your wounded back bare of any fabric.

You put them with surprising ease now that the pain between your shoulder blades had turned into a dull discomfort and walked back to the mirror to take a look at your new self. The demon that stared back at you was already no longer a shadow of your former angelhood, but a vibrant embodiment of freedom and defiance. The weight of God's injunctions was gone, replaced by the warmth of self-acceptance. You were finally home, and this was who you were meant to be. For the first time in your long existence, you felt utterly proud.

As you let your hands wander on the fine silk, Lucifer's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Luxury suits you."

Your cheeks blushed at their words and you pinched your lips while they rose to their feet in one smooth motion and joined you, still naked. They, too, were looking at you with pride –rare would be the angels to take the Fall so well and recover so quickly.

Letting their fingertips graze your scalp with adoration before cupping your cheeks, they spoke softly.

"All that is missing is a crown."

You blinked and slightly pulled back to look Lucifer in the eye, rather shocked by the implication.

"Lucifer, I–"

"It is better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven."

"So it is. But Lucifer, my whole life has been spent in servitude. I do not have the makings of a ruler."

"I disagree," Lucifer countered kindly, their voice like honey. "Do you believe I would have gone to Heaven for just anybody? That I would have negotiated with my brother and missed a chance at revenge with my Father for someone I deemed unworthy?"

"Perhaps not."

You lowered your head slightly, feeling somewhat guilty Lucifer had given up on the opportunity they had been offered for you. But Lucifer quickly placed a finger under your chin and lifted it. You were to keep your head up in pride at all times now, they would not let you bow any more.

"But… What about your subjects? Will they not think me illegitimate?"

"You are one of them now, one of us. Are you not?"

"Yes," you replied firmly. Your scars were proof of what you had once been. You were proud of them, proud to call yourself a demon.

"Then they shall accept you and respect you as such." Lucifer paused briefly to stroke your cheek. "Only perhaps are you more deserving, and they know it."

"How so?"

"Because you knew the horror that awaited you and still chose to fall. And not because you were fighting for somebody else's ideals, but for your own convictions. It is most honourable."

"Is it honourable to seek to redefine oneself, to pursue freedom and… love?"

"Yes."

You let Lucifer's words sink in for a moment, then turned back to the mirror. You had much to learn about your new self and as exhilarating as it was, it was also dizzying.

There was still something bothering you, though. But you weren't sure what, and it made you furrow your eyebrows. Lucifer sensed your confusion of course and, as if reading your mind better than yourself, they offered a solution to your issue.

"You can change your name. If you'd like. Heaven does not have any more grip on you."

The possibility of creating a new identity for yourself, building a new life and detaching yourself entirely from your celestial origins lifted an enormous weight off your shoulders and you let out a long, shaky sigh.

It was a difficult choice, one you needed to make with care, but it didn't need to be made today. You had all eternity, and perhaps, you mused, the name would come to you as naturally as the decision to fall had.

Lucifer smiled as they watched your features relax, and they wrapped their arms around your waist. In that simple, familiar gesture, you felt the weight of your new world settling comfortably.

"There is no hurry," they murmured, their voice low and reassuring. "A name is only one part of who you are. All the rest, your choices, your dreams, your hopes… those are already yours."

"I have a lot to learn," you stated as you turned around to face Lucifer again. "You will help me, will you not?"

"Fear not," Lucifer replied gently, their eyes softening. "In Hell, you are allowed to find yourself at your own pace, without expectations. And I shall be there for you, forever."

"An awfully long time…" you joked, your eyes shining almost mischievously, though your words were intended to make sure Lucifer understood you would not take such a promise lightly.

"Mmh. Eternity has a way of slipping past when one has purpose," Lucifer replied, their fingertips sliding along your left wing.

"And have you found it, your purpose?" you asked, pressing yourself to their front.

"Oh, yes. And in time, you shall find yours, too, in whatever form it may take."

"I think I already have."

You placed a hand on Lucifer's chest and leaned in. The gesture, coupled with the confession, made their heartbeat quicken and they smiled before closing the distance to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

When you broke it for air, you realised life in Hell had resumed its course. The demons had picked up their weapons and were fighting again, the Damned wept once more. Hellfire burnt and ashes fell from the sky.

Quietly, you turned to the balcony and crossed the room to observe this realm you could now call home, this kingdom that would soon be yours to rule, by Lucifer's side.

You had so many ideas already, impatient to fulfil your new role, to govern these damned souls, to welcome them in the afterlife, and help them grieve Heaven. You would help them and, in return, they would help you. Everything would be as it should have always been.

Lucifer joined you, placing their hand on the small of your back, and the two of you stood there, bound by something that felt ancient, inevitable, and yet entirely new as if this day had been waiting for you both since the beginning of time and even before that. You let the silence embrace you, neither of you needing to say anything more.

There would be a time for crowns and names, for ruling and discovering yourself and the full extent of your freedom. For now, you had all you needed.

And there was evening, and there was morning –the seventh day.

A/N: If you’re interested you can find the link to the playlist I used to write this fanfic here.

A/N 2: This has been a journey and feedback is so important! Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment –perhaps giving me some lines you really liked, or discussing the religious references you recognized or the ones you feel you didn’t understand. I would LOVE to talk about this work with you all.

[jt-havoc]

New boy! Aaron Arakiel 🌊❤️ Was gonna be a future adopt but I just got so attatched to him. Half dragon half tiefling monk probably

[marspillo]

When the top performer of the Guardian Angels realizes a simple farmboy is buffer than him...

NOTE: Only Arakiel belongs to me. Farmboy Oliver belongs to a friend!!

Also don't tell anyone this but I accidentally merged all the layers together and couldn't undo it... so then I watched the video playback on procreate and took a screenshot of each panel...

[bardic-tales]

6.29.24: GTTKMO: Issue #1: Azrakiel.

I figured I would bring this back to this blog. I really found this exercise to be really helpful to get into the heads of my characters. For the first issue of this, I will explore the fallen angel Azrakiel.

Introduce your OC. What is their name? Do they have a full name?

When I first developed Bianca over twenty-seven years ago, I never considered her a fallen angel (or Nephilim, since the primordial demons are angels who sided with Lucifer in the Heavenly war.) Last year, I developed her more and since she was originally Final Fantasy 7 OC, Sephiroth’s words about the blood of ancients kept rolling through my mind, forcing me to have to redesign some basic information in her backstory completely, as I wanted to connect her history to have some type of ‘blood of ancients’. Thus, I developed her father to become a commander of the original Heavenly War.

As such, I needed to come up with a name for this mystery man who was the antagonist of every piece I wrote for the Fantasy Worlds Collide Multiverse. I looked at some names associated with angels: Adriel, Azrael, Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel. I knew I wanted something that would flow and have the name end in -iel.

I brainstormed a few names. Each one had that same ending: -iel. Only one of them really stood out to me and leapt off the page at me. Azrakiel. Azrakiel has no meaning outside of Fantasy Worlds Collide, as it was only a made-up name. In the Multiverse, Azrakiel is commonly known as the ‘angel of balance’, as he belongs to the group of Watcher Archangels, just like Arakiel. He and his comrade, Seraphine, would often receive assignments to monitor different areas of the Multiverse and intervene only when the delicate balance of Creation was at risk.

Once I was writing the timeline for the second age of Fantasy Worlds Collide, I knew I wanted Azrakiel to become one demon that I knew actually knew about. And while Bianca was originally a Final Fantasy 7 OC, I wanted to make expand on her. Around 2016-17, I gave her her own original story and make it exist in something that I called the Lydia verse: a loose collection of novellas and novels that were to loosely connect together. The genres that I planned to feature spanned everything from Romantic Suspense to Gothic Horror. I have since scrapped that idea, but not the work I put into creating my angelic and demonic realms. I still have notebooks filled with crude drawings and lore written in the margins.

Inside of the world of Fantasy Worlds Collide, Azrakiel’s motivation is to surpass Lucifer and the Creator Deity. I have come up with a prophecy that foretold a being that has a duality. This person will be the one who will bring the entire Multiverse to heel. Azrakiel saw this as his opportunity to be all knowing, all seeing, and all powerful. Since the prophecy I created centered on the birth of an individual, I narrowed down the demon who he would eventually embody: Asmodeus. This has now become his demonic name.

For more Get to Know My OC answers centered on Fantasy Worlds Collide, please see the tag gtkmo: fwc.

[the-east-art]

Girl who is being SO NORMAL about being freed from angel possession after four years

[neonmetro]

I know you have mentioned some of them before, but do you have a list of weapons for the characters of Project Martyr? For the weapons I have seen, they look great btw!!!!

I like how they kind of match a brand of each individual character if that makes any sense !

-Ulysses loving anon

ok so i intentionally only designed weapons for a few projmar members bc i know i will go insane if i had to design 13 unique weapons.... i really wanted to do bezaliel's for example but... for my own sake... i had to hold back

here is the list (+ their tarot cards)

Reficul: Claws, The Devil

Peneume: Spontoon, The Moon

Kesabel: Hammer/Key, High Priestess

Gadriel: Flamethrower/Airbrush, The Star

Chemosh: Gears, The Chariot

Abaddon: Chains, The Emperor

Beelzebub: Knives, Wheel of Fortune

Azazel: Axe, The Hanged Man

Samyaza: Bow/Harp, The Sun

Tamiel: Great Sword, The Hermit

Arakiel: Dual Pistols, Justice

Moloch: Spear/Umbrella, Death

Bezaliel: Sabre/Glass pen, The Tower

here's a semi recent concept sketch of moloch's weapon

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Picking Sides || Jae-min || Trial 5 Results Reaction

She was alive, holy fuck she wasn’t dead, they were right. Truthfully he had gotten his hopes up, weather he wanted to or not the moment people put the thought of her faking her own death into his mind he was silently hoping in the back of his mind that it was true, and for the first time since she had been found dead aside from the awkward laughs shared with Erik A in investigation he was genuinely smiling, no pain behind it, no underlying issues, he was so fucking happy. He did immediately feel somewhat bad about his behaviour, but truthfully he didn’t blame himself too much for how he acted given the scenario, but at the very least it might have been easier for him to talk things out with Byrne after this now knowing that he could maybe try again with her, he could at least fulfil one of the promises they made to each other, if nothing else. He wanted so badly to move away with her to a nice home and settle down away from all this, no more Erika’s, no more death, and none of this shit with brains and combining people into a vessel, it was all way over what he signed up for in life, and truthfully she didn’t deserve this kind of life either. Maybe it was because of his relationship with Erisu but he was heavily sympathetic to the sisters in this moment, he understood what family meant to people, he had no idea what he would do if his siblings were in danger, but he couldn’t imagine it would have been any better than his reaction to Erisu’s death, it’d probably be worse. So in the end, he didn’t really feel like he blamed them for any of this, even if he was a victim of it. A deep breath as he let tears stream down his cheek.

“Thank you…”

He spoke softly, thanking a god or whatever other being made this happen this way, he wasn’t mad at her despite what she may think he might have been, he just wanted her happiness, and if this is what it took for her to achieve it so be it. He finally straightened his posture after his thoughts ran, he looked to the sisters, then to the group, as he cleared his throat.

“I’ve just been given a second chance, one that I wouldn’t dare pass up on, so I’d like this to be very clear, if any of you so much as think of hurting Erisu or her sisters I will personally try to stop you myself, gun or not. If I fail again, and any one of the three of them end up dead because of one of you and not their own actions, I will not rest until I’ve hunted you down and killed you myself, even after this fucked up game ends, got it?”

He pauses, looking to Adrik and END specifically as he speaks now directly to them, his tone and posture was more serious than ever before.

“I won’t make you get rid of the weapons, but even if its an accident, if any of them die you’ll have to kill me too, so I think it’d be in the groups best interest to fucking put the guns away.”

He then turns to Akito.

“I’m sorry for voting for you, I truthfully knew you weren’t responsible but I couldn’t bring myself to vote for my girlfriend, and I doubt you can blame me since I imagine had it been you in my shoes and Adrik or Erik A were the ones to be voted for you wouldn’t have been able to either. So I’m sorry for that.” A pause as he stares the other down. “So I’m asking you, regardless of who you are or what you intend to do with this information, all I ask is that Erisu and her siblings be allowed a happy life after this, and in return I’ll stay out of yours, you can live your comfy life with your partners and we can all return to normalcy. But Erisu clearly cares about her siblings, and if anything you or anybody here does after all this hurts any of them, it’ll hurt her, and I’m not okay with that.”

He feels he’s said enough, he’s made his stance on all this clear, he just wants Erisu to be happy even if it means letting An and Calluna walk away from all this without consequence. He understands why they would do this and in order to ensure that his life is as he wishes it it means letting some crimes go unpunished.

“Whatever it takes, I’ll do what I have to do to ensure a future with her now, so don’t fuck this up for me. Any of you.”

[dibujitodecabra]

“You need my blood, do you not? You crave it. Substenance. Come and take it. It is yours. Take it. Take it! Take it like you did back then, Machine!”

Haha so,, I've been playing Ultrakill, you might have noticed... It has been fueling my latent love for christian apocripha, and there's this little guy in the Book of Enoch.......

I kinda fused the figures of Arakiel and Sariel really? But so did christians so idc

Basically Sariel got cast into Hell for teaching witchcraft and sorcery to the humans they supervised (and then having sexual relationship with them lol) so they're basically numb and mulling on their damnation for centuries, even past the death of mankind

Until a funny little killer robot comes down to Hell to play! ^^

After their first encounter they become obsessed with V1, the first being ever to interact with them in almost a millenium.

Of course, Gabriel ends up falling from grace too, and there's trouble brewing between the both of them, Sariel trying to convince Gabriel that they're the same while Gabriel tries to negate it constantly. So that's a fun little relationship.

Also here's the little mewmew without all the clutter as a reward :3

[nyxshadowhawk]

Arakiel by Marty