#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.

[yvaltiel]

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 6)

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

Read on AO3 (you do need to be logged in, though)

Words: 5,349

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: None in this chapter (let me know if you think I should add some)

A/N: Thank you for your patience. This past month has been very busy, and you have all been so kind. Hope the wait will be worth it.

The first thing you felt on that sixth morning was the cold. But it wasn't the kind of cold you had experienced in certain regions of Hell –which was rather more metaphysical for beings like you anyway– nor did it seem to be the kind of cold Arakiel had reported feeling on the top of the highest mountains of Earth.

So you were neither in Hell nor on Earth. But wherever you were did not quite look like Heaven either because the cold coursing through your body, creeping through the stone floor beneath you and numbing your skin, felt harsh, physical, and profoundly evil.

You shifted, feeling a dull ache in your head and neck that made you wince as you tried to open your eyes, only to realise they had been covered. The realisation made you slightly panic. Heaven had kept you blind for too long –no more. And so, unable to reach for the blindfold with your hands as they had been shackled, you squirmed, moving erratically like a beast until the cloth fell and you could finally take in your surroundings.

You had expected the usual blinding Light, full of your Creator's love –if that was still the word for it. But instead, you found out you had been put in a dimly lit cell where God's Light never shone. You were not on Earth and yet, it seemed your only light source was a weak moonbeam coming through a loophole in the wall and a couple of stars. So where were you? Purgatory? A demimonde?

You shifted again, trying to sit in a more comfortable position –if there was any. It hurt. Your wings were crumpled awkwardly beneath you and all your muscles felt heavy as if weighed down by something you couldn't name.

In front of you, there was no door or bars –just an open archway and a faint shimmering indicating an invisible barrier.

"Hello?" you tried, hoping to catch a guardian's attention or perhaps to hear from another prisoner. "Anybody here?"

Your question was answered only by the echo of your own voice resonating unpleasantly in your ears, amplifying the pulsing headache behind your eyes.

Slowly, you pushed yourself to your feet, leaning heavily against the wall for balance. Your legs quivered under you, but you refused to let them give way. You were tired of being forced to your knees, literally and figuratively.

"Hello?" you called out again, louder this time. "Anyone? Can somebody please answer me?"

Despite the pain, you kept on blabbering, hoping to get a reply. But the air in this cell felt thin and distant, and you soon found yourself out of breath.

Thankfully, you heard a door unlocking in the distance then, as well as quiet footsteps. Finally somebody was coming.

An angel you vaguely remembered as Nanahel appeared in the doorway holding a small silver tray with bread and wine on it. She paused just before the invisible forcefield that held you captive for a moment, taking in your battered form.

"Peace be upon you, Nanahel," you offered weakly.

Nanahel seemed to appreciate that you remembered her name –she was low-ranking after all, and you had only met her a few times– but didn't answer your greeting. The lack of reply made you clench your jaw. Nanahel was only a mere Principality, she was supposed to greet you back, and with reverence, too. But her indifference made you suddenly wonder if you were even a Dominion still.

Eventually, Nanahel stepped closer and stopped right in front of you. Balancing the tray in her left hand, she broke a piece of bread with her right hand and held it out, waiting for you to open your mouth. But you were most definitely not going to take food from the same hand that had betrayed you –not that Nanahel was personally responsible, bless her, but she was on their side– and so you turned away.

"Eat," she said, more as a request than an order at first.

"I feel no hunger and do not need the food."

"You do here. Eat." Her tone was a bit firmer this time, but when her instance was met by yet another refusal, it outright became commanding. "Listen, you have no choice. You must eat and I shall stay here until you have eaten the bread and drunk the wine."

"Are they trying to poison me?"

"What?"

"You seem so adamant to have me eat this meagre pittance. I'm simply wondering if the Divine Council wants me dead."

Nanahel didn't answer that, and you wondered whether she didn't because she didn't want to indulge you or because she didn't dare tell you that Michael and his peers did, in fact, want to get rid of you. Either way, you gave in.

"Fine. But can I at least have the dignity to eat with my own hands?"

The Principality hesitated. "Are you going to attack me?"

"Do I look in a position to attack you right now, Nanahel?"

"Do you promise to eat everything if I let you feed yourself?"

"I swear."

Swearing was not the most welcome terminology in the Silver City, of course. But it served your purpose and convinced Nanahel, who put the tray down and approached you with caution.

You slightly pushed yourself off the wall to give her better access to your chains and thanked her weakly when you heard the keys jangling and felt the tension around your wrists easing. And as Nanahel freed you, you realised she had a scent. Angels weren't supposed to smell of anything as they weren't earthly creatures, but Nanahel did –and this cell did– and though you supposed mortals would describe that fragrance as an odour of sanctity, you found yourself hating it.

Without a word, Nanahel then picked up the tray and jerked it in your direction, urging you to eat and drink what was on it once more. You complied in equal silence, looking her right in the eye as you took the bread with your left hand. That made her flinch and gasp slightly.

"Won't you at least eat properly?"

No. You were done following all those ludicrous rules blindly and therefore decided to keep eating with your left hand without ever breaking eye contact with the Principality. Similarly, you took the wine with your left hand and guzzled it carelessly, even letting it dribble on your white robes.

Now even more tense than when she had first arrived, Nanahel didn't waste a second to restrain you again as soon as you were finished. And as she did so, she spoke in a clipped voice.

"I'll return after Lauds to relay today's sermon and pray with you. And I'll do so for every following Mass until the trial is over."

Your heart dropped to your stomach and every ounce of defiance left your body, suddenly replaced by a profound dread.

"What did you say?"

"I said I would check on you until the trial is over."

"Whose trial?"

"Yours, silly."

You gasped as you remembered Michael's words from last night when he had said the Divine Council would "discuss your case". Definitely no promotion then.

"But I'm not there!"

"Nor do you need to be. The Council's decision will be based on facts, not sentiment."

"'Facts'? Will the fact that Heaven is inhabited by a horde of hypocrites be taken into account?" You spat, lashing out as tears started to prickle your eyes.

Nanahel recoiled a bit, visibly shocked and somewhat disgusted by your attitude.

"May Our Lord have mercy on your soul," she mumbled rather grudgingly as she turned to leave.

"No, Nanahel, wait–"

"I'll pray for you."

"I don't want you to pray! Nanahel, come back! Nanahel!"

Pushed by the chaos inside your head, you tried to run after her. But the restraints on your wrists pulled you back and, with your legs still weak and your crumpled wings destabilising you, you lost your balance and fell to your knees, right in the pale, silvery glow coming through the tiny window of your cell.

Panting, your chest heaving, you turned to that opening onto that unknown, hostile world. And right up there, in the navy sky, you found a bright dot which you quickly realised was what humans called the morning star.

The Morningstar. The Lightbringer. Lucifer.

You burst into tears then, thinking about the ruler of Hell and the events of the previous day and the day before that, too. 

There were so many more things you wished you had said and done with Lucifer. Lucifer who had opened your eyes to your condition as an angel in the Silver City. Lucifer who had taught you so many things in so very few, well-chosen words, trying to show you a path beyond the rigidity of Heaven's expectations. Lucifer who had praised you, had made you laugh, had touched your wings. Lucifer… who had almost kissed you.

Instead, you had walked away. You had been so focused on the promises of Heaven, the mission the Divine Council had given you –and, let's be honest, a selfish need to save yourself caused by the fear Michael had instilled in you– that you ignored something far more real, more pressing.

The Morningstar has cried for you –or because of you. They had allowed themself to be vulnerable, and you had rejected them. And now, in the cold and solitude of your cell, you realised the ache in your chest wasn't so much from doubt or the heavy burdens of the Silver City –it was something else entirely, something you hadn't yet allowed yourself to name.

Tears kept welling in your eyes and rolling down your face as you realised what you had lost forever. Because it was evident, you would never see Lucifer nor hear their voice, full of wit and wisdom, or feel the warmth of their fingers on your wings ever again.

The Lightbringer would come to Heaven someday, you knew that –provided the Council respected its part of the deal– but you knew you would never have the right to see them, nor could you be certain they would even want to see you by then.

Choking on your sobs, you turned back to the loophole in your cell, to the dim light of the morning star shining faintly through the gloom.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer," you wailed shakily. "I'm so sorry."

"Your Majesty."

Lucifer was sitting on their throne, barely conscious of the chaos of their realm as Mazikeen approached. They had been like this for hours now, and she had offered everything she could think of to get back the ruler she still had not even a week ago: demon battles, torture, an impromptu Dionysian gathering, even sex. All to no avail.

Lucifer's mind was elsewhere, detached, almost adrift. They kept staring blankly at the flames dancing in the pit in the middle of their throne room, their thoughts circling around something –or rather, someone– now far beyond their reach. An angel. Their angel.

"Your Majesty," Mazikeen tried again.

"What?" Lucifer snapped, their fingers tightening around the armrest of the throne, making the polished surface groan under the pressure.

Mazikeen sighed, despair taking over her features. This was not the Lightbringer she knew, the one who commanded with absolute authority, who could turn any situation in their favour. She had seen Lucifer in pain before –there had been a thousand betrayals, a thousand wars– but this was different. This was personal, deep, and she swore to herself that if she ever saw you again, she would slit your throat.

"Please," Mazikeen said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You cannot sit here forever."

Lucifer remained silent as if refusing to acknowledge Mazikeen's pleas. They kept their gaze unfocused, lost in the orange fire before them, their chin resting in one hand while the fingers of their other hand tapped furiously on the armrest, proof of their inner turmoil.

Seeing that neither patience nor enticement would work, Mazikeen closed the distance between her and the throne in quick, powerful strides and knelt before Lucifer.

"My Lord!" her voice broke through again, sharper this time. She had never needed to shout before. "You have to pull Yourself together. If the demons sense vulnerability, this realm will fall apart!"

Lucifer sighed heavily. "It is Hell, Mazikeen. Everything and everyone here is constantly falling apart."

"We both know that is not true. This is not who You are."

Slowly, Lucifer straightened up and tilted their head, finally looking down at Mazikeen. Just as slowly, they reached to cup her cheek –the melted side of her face–, grazing it gently with their fingers, which made the she-demon's eyes shine with hope.

Then Lucifer opened their mouth, trying to come up with something to reassure or even compliment her. Their "good, faithful Mazikeen" as you had described her yesterday. But nothing came out, their nice words had seemingly all been used up on someone else. They closed their mouth and let go of Mazikeen's face before standing up and putting some distance between them again.

After a few long breaths, Lucifer finally spoke.

"Well, what is it you came to tell Us?"

Disappointed, Mazikeen sighed and rose to her feet, gripping her swords like a lifeline.

"The generals demand action. Now that Your deal with Heaven is closed and You received the authorisation to go there."

"Of course, they do. But We have already stated multiple times We would not use Our visitation rights until the time is suitable, have We not?"

"You have. But if I may… There is a risk that if You keep postponing Your visit to the Silver City, endlessly waiting for 'the right time', You will miss out on many opportunities."

Lucifer's back and wings tensed but they didn't turn around.

"Are you implying that We procrastinate confronting Our brother, Mazikeen?"

"No. I am merely suggesting You use this… renewed hate towards angels to formulate a plan, go back to Your Father's realm, and take back what is rightfully Yours."

Lucifer huffed. "There is no  'renewed hate towards–' Wait." They cut themself off and finally spun to face Mazikeen again, bringing a hand to their heart as if to contain its erratic beating. "What did you say?"

Mazikeen frowned. "Uh… To formulate a plan, go back to–"

"No, after that."

"And take back what is rightfully Yours."

Lucifer's wings suddenly unfurled, assuming a dominating stance, and their eyes darkened. It seemed something had clicked in their mind, and they were burning with ambition again.

"Ours."

"Let the defendant in."

After an eternity in your cell, Nanahel had eventually come accompanied by two Thrones, both clad in shining armour with their faces obscured by helmets. They had covered your eyes –surely so you wouldn't know the way from your cell back to the main areas of Heaven– and were now ushering you inside the Council chamber as its large doors opened without a sound. Only then did they let you see your surroundings.

The Divine Council sat in a semicircle, their thrones imposing and gleaming with an unnatural light. At the centre, on the highest throne, sat the Metatron, the Voice of God, his eyes cold and unreadable. His mere presence was enough to make you shiver and look away.

At the Metatron's side, you noticed Michael sitting with his sword resting against his knee, Gabriel with his usual smug smile, and the rest of the Archangels gazing right into your soul, their eyes hard as stone.

So you then looked at the assembly, millions of angels gathered to attend your trial –or rather, public humiliation. Most of them looked at you with an unforgiving expression or even hate. But as you scanned the crowd, you found some confused frowns, like Muriel's, and very few compassionate eyes, like Camael's and Arakiel's.

Suddenly, a herald angel stood to your right, unrolled a scroll and spoke in a flat, formal tone.

"Angel of the Fourth Choir, Dominion of the Silver City, you stand before the Divine Council today, accused of gross insubordination, consorting with the Fallen, and expressing thoughts contrary to the will and nature of the Almighty. You are charged with treason against the Divine Order."

With your heart pounding in your chest, you opened your mouth to plead innocent, but Gabriel raised a hand to stop you.

"Don't bother answering that."

"Indeed," Uriel added. "The evidence speaks for itself."

"Evidence?" you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper. "What evidence?" This was all going way too fast, and you felt dizzy.

Michael nodded in the herald's direction and the latter spoke again.

"The words you have spoken in private, the thoughts you believed hidden from the Almighty, have been heard and recorded. The walls of Heaven are not deaf, Dominion."

"I– No! I have never spoken against–" You were suddenly cut off by your own voice resonating through the room.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

Then Camael's.

There is this look on your face… I think it's doubt.

Your voice again.

How is that a good thing?

His Great, blasted Plan.

Your conversation with Gabriel from two nights past.

You were there. You sang, too. –No!

And finally, your desperate outburst in your cell this morning.

Will the fact that Heaven is inhabited by a horde of hypocrites be taken into account?

I'm sorry, Lucifer.

Your stomach twisted as Michael spoke. "The Council has reviewed everything you have said in recent days, and it is clear that your heart has strayed far from the Light. The celestial spheres have borne witness to your disobedience, your doubt, your… affections for the Morningstar."

You turned back to the crowd and noticed myriads of angels looking shocked or repulsed by your words, exchanging whispers of indignation.

"Do you deny these thoughts, Dominion? Do you deny consorting with Lucifer? Do you deny that your actions have endangered the stability of Heaven itself?"

"I…"

Your voice faltered. You thought the Archangel's words to be exaggerated, but you didn't know how to defend yourself, nor if there was any point in trying.

"I sought understanding, Your Grace," you eventually managed to say, your voice trembling. "Is that a crime? To seek the truth?"

"It is a crime to seek what lies outside of God's Light," Raphael spoke.

"Therefore the Divine Council has judged your case," Azrael added. "And our sentence is irrevocable."

At that point, the Metatron stood up and revealed the decision long made in your absence.

"For your insubordination and questioning of Our Lord's ways, this Court has decided… that should you accept to ask for forgiveness, you may be saved from disgrace. Atone for your sins, submit to Heaven's judgement, and you will stay in the Silver City, only demoted from your rank."

You felt the blood drain from your face and the dizziness made you sway a little. A demotion. A lifetime of servitude, chained by the very system that had already shackled your wrists and bound your mind. Such was the definition of God's mercy.

"Well?" The Metatron was waiting for your answer which, to any respectable angel, should be more than evident.

The very thought of what you were about to say made your whole body quiver, but you mustered every last ounce of courage you could find in your heart and finally replied.

"No."

Loud gasps resonated through the chamber and the Archangels of the Divine Council exclaimed some "Have you lost your mind?" and "Wait. What?" You glanced behind you once more and found Camael's purple eyes in the distance. They were frantically shaking their head as if urging you to reconsider.

The Metatron furrowed his white eyebrows. He then raised a hand to silence the clamour, and asked, "Come again?"

"I said no, Your Highness."

The Divine Council had made its decision, you had made yours. If refusing the Council's offer meant to spend the rest of your miserable, lonely existence in that cell, then in that cell you would stay. But you wouldn't obey, much less serve, any of those people any more.

Yet, the Metatron decided to insist for the third time. "Are you quite certain, little angel? You know forgiveness is always given to those who ask for it."

Yes, that was what you used to believe –what they had made you believe. But that was then and you had changed much this past week. You thought about the dead mortals in the Woods of Suicides, about Lucifer and the angels in this room who once sang as they fell, and you knew you were doing the right thing for yourself.

"Just say you're sorry!" Gabriel almost shouted.

You looked at him, then at Michael, and back at the Metatron.

"Never."

Your answer created yet another uproar behind you. You heard some voices calling you a traitor, devil worshipper, while others simply booed.

The Archangels exchanged nods, and then Michael spoke.

"Hence, you give us no choice. There is no place for you here, nor anywhere else in this Holy Kingdom. Usually, we would decide to cast criminals like you down to Hell. But given your… ties with my sibling, I am afraid this becomes no suitable punishment."

He was right. You would rejoice and maybe even sing about your own Fall.

"Therefore, here is your final sentence," the Metatron announced, always in charge of giving the verdict. "You have played with fire, flirted with it. And, inevitably, you shall get burnt. Angel of the Fourth Choir, Dominion of the Silver City, this Court sentences you… to death by Hellfire."

Hellfire. A punishment reserved only for the most unforgivable, those whose souls were considered too dangerous, too corrupted to exist even in Hell.

You had not expected that and, for a moment, you couldn't move or breathe. A cold sweat ran across your brow, and your wings, still battered and weak, twitched instinctively.

"To death!" the assembly intoned.

And then the same Thrones that had retrieved you from your cell seized you by the elbows and dragged you out of the room and towards a vast courtyard at the centre of the Silver City.

By the time you got there, the courtyard, which had once held parties, important Holy Masses, and so many more joyful events, had been transformed into a stage for your public execution.

Angels of all kinds were now gathering around a massive column of Hellfire that had been summoned from the depths of the Abyss. It crackled with an unnatural intensity, even darker and more sinister than anything you had seen in Hell. Or perhaps was it the sharp contrast with Heaven's natural pristine glow that made it so terrifying.

Your legs nearly gave way beneath you as you saw it, and for a moment, despite how confident you felt in your rebellion, the hopelessness threatened to overwhelm you. No being, mortal or divine, had ever survived the flames of Hellfire, save for Lucifer and a few selected demons. This was the end.

The two Thrones threw you to your knees before the fire, and you could feel the heat emanating from it, licking at your skin, searing your feathers even from a distance. The sensation was suffocating, and, in your head, you found yourself repeating the same name over and over again.

Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer.

You repeated the Morningstar's name so many times that you were certain it had actually begun to leave your mouth, and it even started losing its meaning. Yet, to you, it now meant everything.

Above you, the Metatron's voice rang out, proclaiming your sins for all to hear.

"This angel, who once belonged to the Holy Orders, has chosen the path of defiance and turned away from the Light. For this former Dominion's transgressions and loyalty to the Fallen, let Justice be done."

You felt hands bind your wings, painfully stretching them back so you wouldn't have the reflex to fly away, but your gaze remained fixed on the inferno facing you. Then the Thrones violently forced you back on your feet.

Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer.

"March."

Of course, you had no wish to die. For immortal beings like you, there was no afterlife, only oblivion. Once your body entered these flames, your very essence would combust, and you would be no more –in fact, the whole of Heaven would act as if you had never existed.

Yet, you took a step forward. And another. And another. Your vision narrowed, and the cries and chants around you became muffled, your ears solely vibrating with the thumping of your heart.

Lucifer.

The fire flared, almost beckoning. You kept walking, closed your eyes, and finally let yourself be swallowed by the flames.

You waited for Death's embrace and indeed felt strong arms closing around your waist. But then the intense heat vanished as a new kind of warmth engulfed you, familiar, soothing, safe.

You opened your eyes and first noticed the black, leathery cocoon enveloping you. And then, ever so slowly, your heart soaring with hope, you tilted your head back.

"Lucifer…"

"Hello, little dove," Lucifer whispered with a soft smile as Hellfire's glow made a single tear twinkle on their cheek.

"How did You…" Your voice trailed because you couldn't comprehend everything that had just happened.

"Hellfire obeys Us alone, and We have long since commanded it not to harm you."

The flames recoiled further, shrinking away from Lucifer as if in reverence to their true master, bowing to Lucifer’s will, and retreating into the Abyss from which they came.

As they did so, Lucifer gently let go of you, making sure you could stand on your feet before they turned to the million pairs of angelic eyes glued to them.

"Get Them out of here!" someone shouted in the audience.

"You are not welcome here!" another angel added.

"Peace be upon You, my dear sibling," Michael said as calmly as he could, though he was boiling inside, approaching with his sword clutched in hand.

"Hmm. If only, Michael," Lucifer retorted. "We note you forgot to mention our deal to the rest of your kind."

Michael said nothing, his jaw clenching visibly while Lucifer surveyed the assembly at an unhurried pace, the faintest smirk on their lips. They then stopped, retrieved the contract they had brought with them, and quoted it.

"'In consideration of the retrieval of the Cup of Eternal Grace,' et cetera, et cetera, 'the Divine Council does hereby agree to grant Lucifer Morningstar one Visitation to Heaven.' We believe this makes Us most welcome here. At least for the next… fifty-seven minutes. Does it not, brother?"

Michael's fist tightened around the hilt of his sword while the Metatron stepped forward, attempting to maintain his authority before the angels present here began to protest.

"Still, You have no jurisdiction here, Lucifer. This is Heaven's justice."

Lucifer turned to him and looked him up and down with unabashed disdain.

"Precisely," they admitted. "Hellfire belongs to Us and it will not burn a single feather of that angel's wings. So how do you wish to proceed?"

"How do You mean?"

"Well, you want to kill the Dominion, but We are telling you Hellfire will not take part in this so-called heavenly justice. Therefore, how do you wish to carry out the sentence?"

Silence had fallen over the Silver City and you observed this surreal interaction with a strange mixture of relief and confusion.

And then it hit you, and you understood what Lucifer was doing. They had found a loophole. The decision to sentence you to death by Hellfire was not only an act of humiliation but also a way for the leaders of the Silver City to get rid of you without getting their hands dirty. Because no matter how much Heaven seemed to bend the rules, God's Law still prevailed, and "Thou shall not kill". So by making you walk into Hellfire yourself, Heaven's conscience remained clean while you died, basically committing one last sin: suicide. But take Hellfire away, and the perfect murder could be no more.

"That sword of yours," Lucifer then mused, taking Michael's wrist to lift the weapon before running their index down the blade, "could be…" They brought their finger to their lips and licked off the blood they had drawn. "Adequate. But everybody here knows you will not use it."

"I have a sudden feeling I might," Michael growled.

"Enough!" The Metatron interjected, putting an end to these childish threats. Then he turned to Lucifer. "I shall have a word with You. Now."

It had been almost an hour since the whole commotion in the courtyard after your miraculous escape from death, and you were back in your cell, wondering if the Morningstar would manage to find a way out for you before their visitation rights expired.

Finally, you felt them approach, so you lifted your head and noticed they still sported the same soft smile as earlier. They were somewhat happy, you realised. Happy to see you. Behind them, the Metatron stood in the shadow, his eyes skewering you.

"How did You know?" you asked softly as Lucifer stopped a mere foot away from you. You had spent most of the past hour trying to figure out how they had managed to appear just in time to save you.

"We did not –not for certain. But We had a presentiment something would happen to you. We saw the fear in your eyes yesterday and the last flicker of hope born out of Our brother's empty promises. We have been there, We recognised the signs."

"But I thought… This is the last time You will ever be allowed in the Silver City. I thought You would come when the time was right, when You had a true reason, something important."

"Yes. And We did."

Your heart skipped a beat when Lucifer said that, and even more so when you noticed their eyes flickering to your lips before they promptly blinked and looked away.

"So… What are they going to do with me?" you asked after a short, uncomfortable silence. "Are they going to… send me to an isolated planet on the other side of the cosmos?"

That made Lucifer chuckle briefly, but their smile quickly faded.

"No."

Another silence.

"Am I going to fall?"

Lucifer nodded, and you felt a disagreeable contrast between your heart warming up and your blood turning cold.

"Will it be painful?"

"Extremely." Lucifer saw no point in trying to make you hope otherwise. "And lonely."

"But You will be there, on the other side."

"Always."

"Lightbringer, it is time to leave. The hour is coming to an end," the Metatron finally spoke from outside the cell.

"Yes," Lucifer replied. "No need to chase Us away this time. We will see Ourself out." Then they brought their fingers up to graze your cheek. "You have a few hours to prepare; it will happen when God puts an end to this day. We will be waiting."

Lucifer's touch lingered for a moment as if they were wishing you good luck, and then they left.

Once Lucifer had gone, you were left alone in the dim light of your cell, trying to make sense of everything that had happened today. A trial, a sentence, the blistering heat of Hellfire, and now, the promise of an eternity in Hell. It felt surreal, as though you were being swept along by forces beyond your control, moving too fast for your mind to fully comprehend.

A week ago, Lucifer and their subjects were your sworn enemies, you knew nothing about Hell, largely misunderstood it, and, above all, hated it. And tonight, despite the growing anxiety, you found yourself longing for it all.

With your lips parting in a small smile, you sat down on the cold stone floor and turned to the narrow window to your left. The air was chilly and smelled like rain, and you suddenly remembered what day tomorrow was.

Tomorrow was autumn. Fall. Your Fall.

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

[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]

HIIII ULY ANON IS BACK, Sighs it's finally the weekend, school has been eating me alive !!!!

I hope you are doing so well neon !!!!

Soooo *looks around* for no particular reason. . .whats the relationship with Arakiel, Moloch and Azazel. . .

Azazel and Moloch. . .they are so terrible I love them. But to be completely fair they all are and I LIVE for it

Also Aishire and Bezaliel appreciation. . .I LIVE FOR THESE TWO SMMM CHAT WHAT. They are honestly so. . .they are such goobers. . .the babies ever. . .

And out of curiousity do you listen to Fish in a bird cage. . .and if you do. . .do you think any of their songs fit any of your OCs. Wink Wink nudge nudge

ALSO POLITES AND EURYLOCHUS???? I'M KILLING MYSELF THEY LOOK SO CUTE JDAJDOVOJDGRY THEY ARE SWEET MY LORD BLESS MY EYES NEON

Please. . .I need to know more about Polites, Eurylochus, and Uly. . .The babies ever !!!! What a cute friend group, nothing will happen to them surely /j

Also I honestly might just write a whole Ulysses appreciation ask. . .thanking the blorbo ever for getting me through this long week. (Theres a reason I am Ulysses loving anon chat I just love this guy) /SILLY

ALSO WHENEVER YOU SEE THIS JUST KNOW YOU ARE GREAT👍🏽REST, AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, YOU ARE IMPORANT !!!1

*fades into the darkness*

-Ulysses loving anon

HI ULYANON!!!! I'VE BEEN DOING.... SMTH I HOPE YOU'VE BEEN DOING WELL!!!!

arakiel, azazel, and moloch originally had a trio sibling relationship but as im writing projmar and arakiel starts having more of an antagonistic role i don't think that dynamic will come to fruition... originally azazel and moloch kidnapped arakiel and they only got to that point by slowly warming up to them? so that should give a basis of how fucked up their relationship w each other are (its p bad tbh, arakiel does NOT like moloch and straight up wishes to kill them so they can assimilate into being one person again, and feels a strange attachment to azazel but is very much afraid of them)

bezai is terrible awful. i hope they kiss and die. literally so awful that they deserve each other

yess... i listen to fish in a birdcage...

for songs!!!! rule 4 is eve, rule 21 is death, rule 27 is ulysses, and rule 34 is kalypto. unfortunately i think kalypto is self explanatory.

POLITES AND EURYLOCHUS ARE GOING TO FUCKING DESTROY ME. I HATE IT HERE (CREATED THEM MYSELF THIS IS MY OWN DOING) THEY'RE THE WORST FRIEND GROUP EVER. THE LOUDEST ASS BITCHES EVER.

i really need to write more about them but it's pretty awful. i would say ulysses and polites only really became friends in hs, then when ulysses married penelope, eurylochus became friends w polites who is just a friend magnet.... (unrelated but agamemnon kinda forced all the achaeans to have constant meetings together so diomedes and ulysses got to bond a lot while eurylo and polites bonded a lot more)

following etm's interp of polites, his philosphy of welcoming the world with open arms is still there but he isn't stupid. he knows he has to kill because they are in a WAR and he encourages his other men to only kill in self defense, while reassuring to ulysses he won't hold the deaths of its men against it.

its a pretty big contention between eurylochus and ulysses, eurylochus wishes to kill everything after the cyclops bc he saw ulysses get a curse contract but ulysses has to hold him back

eurylo: let's kill them before we can get hurt.

ulysses: if you hurt them first, we'll all end up dead.

I WILL HAVE SO MUCH CONTENT TO FEED ME IF YOU ARE SO INCLINED TO SEE.......

THANK YOU ULYANON AHDGRVRHGGHGG i will power through another week (gripping my head

[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