#adamsapple harvest

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Bonfire~

hello everyone! happy birthday @inubaki! i wanted to get this part up for you! i hope you like it!

for everyone else, i am sorry! please do not hate bonfire too much!

Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04

@adamsappleweek

The bonfire crackled and popped behind him, a symphony of embers whispering into the night, mocking his retreat. Adam dragged himself further across the field, his legs trembling as though each step weighed a hundred pounds. His vision blurred, tears spilling freely from his red-rimmed, stinging eyes. His nose was stuffed, and his breaths came in shuddering gasps, as though the air itself had turned against him. Chills coursed down his twitching skin despite the lingering warmth of the firelight that seemed to cling to his back, a cruel reminder of what he was leaving behind.

His head felt bare, disconcertingly light without the familiar weight of his flower crown. The vibrant blend of carnations and apple blossoms, his pride and solace, now lay discarded somewhere behind him. It was the second time tonight he had thrown it aside, an act considered a grave insult to the gods. He had almost turned back to retrieve it, but his feet had refused to comply. Or perhaps his heart had refused. He couldn’t go back—not after this. Not after another rejection. Not after his chest had been cracked open and his soul laid bare for nothing.

He stumbled, his gait unsteady, nearly toppling over the gnarled roots that jutted from the field like skeletal fingers. The thin line of trees surrounding the bonfire stretched before him like a frail barrier, separating him from the rest of the world. Beyond those trees, the woods thickened into an impenetrable mass to the east and west, while the south gave way to the notorious lake.

The lake was a siren, beautiful but deadly. It shimmered deceptively under the moonlight, the surface calm, but beneath its serene facade lay a current strong enough to drag even the fiercest alpha under. The sharp rocks that lined its heart were merciless; many had met their end there. Alphas, betas, omegas—it didn’t discriminate. Countless lives had been claimed by its icy grip, their stories whispered through warnings etched onto signs and spoken in hushed tones around the village. And yet, Adam didn’t care. He pressed on blindly, his vision clouded further with each tear that spilled over.

His chest ached—a hollow, burning throb unlike anything he had ever endured. After Eve, he had thought himself impervious to heartbreak. He had vowed never to let anyone wield such power over him again. But here he was, shattered and gasping for air over someone he barely knew. Steve. A name that now tasted bitter on his tongue, one that clung to his mind like a burr, refusing to let go.

Why did it hurt so much? Why did the rejection of a stranger—a fleeting connection, barely an hour old—cut him so deeply? The pain surged through him, raw and relentless, twisting in his chest like a knife. His legs buckled, and he sank to his knees, the damp earth soaking into his trousers.

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the distant laughter of those still gathered by the bonfire. Their voices felt like a lifetime away, and yet their joy was a dagger to Adam’s heart. He was alone in his anguish, lost in a sea of despair. His trembling fingers dug into the soil as he fought for a breath that didn’t ache, a thought that didn’t spiral.

But none came. Only the relentless pull of the lake, its waters beckoning him with promises of release, of quiet, of nothingness.

The sky was a tapestry of soft pink and orange, streaked with the last whispers of daylight as night crept closer. Adam stumbled to the edge of the lake, its waters glimmering faintly under the shifting hues above. The breeze off the surface was cool, brushing against his fevered skin, a cruel contrast to the fire raging in his chest. He stood there for a moment, his arms hanging limply by his sides, his head bowed as though the weight of the world had finally forced him to his knees.

“What’s wrong with me?” he whispered, the words trembling as they left his lips.

His voice cracked, and the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the lapping of the water against the rocks. Adam clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache that consumed him. It spread from his chest, heavy and suffocating, until it felt as though it would swallow him whole.

“Why doesn’t anyone want me?” His voice grew louder, trembling with raw anguish. “Why does everyone always—always push me aside? What did I ever do? Is it me? Is it something I said, something I am?”

The memories clawed their way to the surface, unbidden and merciless. Lilith, his first crush, her kind smile that had always been for someone else. She had stayed his friend, sure, but her polite words and careful kindness had always been laced with pity. She never saw him, not really. And Lute—he had thought they were perfect for each other. They had laughed at the same jokes, shared the same dreams. But the moment someone better came along, someone brighter, stronger, more, she had cut him off without a second thought. Not even a farewell, just the cold silence of messages left unanswered.

“At least Lilith cared enough to pretend,” Adam spat bitterly. “Lute didn’t even give me that much.”

And then there was Eve. Eve, who had been the closest he’d ever come to happiness. Eve, who had made him feel seen, wanted, cherished—until the moment she didn’t. Eve, who hadn’t just left him; she had betrayed him in the cruellest way imaginable. She hadn’t shattered his heart with regretful words or hollow excuses. No, Eve had ripped it apart when he found her wrapped around his best friend, their laughter and whispers a blade between his ribs.

And then there was Eve. Eve, who had been the closest he’d ever come to happiness. Eve, who had made him feel seen, wanted, cherished—until the moment she didn’t. Eve, who hadn’t just left him; she had betrayed him in the cruellest way imaginable. She hadn’t shattered his heart with regretful words or hollow excuses. No, Eve had ripped it apart when he found her wrapped around his best friend, their laughter and whispers a blade between his ribs.

His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the jagged shore. The sharp rocks dug into his palms as he caught himself, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony coursing through him. Tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, blurring his vision until all he could see was the shimmering lake before him, the ghost of Eve’s betrayal reflected in its mocking calm.

He let the pain pour out of him, his sobs shaking his entire body. His words became incoherent, a string of broken pleas and desperate questions hurled at the indifferent sky.

Why? Why him? Why is it always fucking Lucifer?  

The betrayal cut deeper because he had trusted them both. Eve, who had once been his light, his sanctuary. And Lucifer—the one person who was supposed to have his back. Together, they had destroyed him.

And then there was Steve. Steve, who had barely known him for an hour, who had smiled at him like he mattered, only to turn away just as quickly. It was almost laughable how easily hope had sparked and then died, like a flame snuffed out by a cruel wind. How foolish he was to think, even for a moment, that this time might be different. That he might be different.

“Why does no one stay?” Adam whispered, his voice trembling, shattered. “Why do I keep thinking… thinking someone will love me when it’s always the same? I’m never enough. Never.”

The lake shimmered before him, a mirror reflecting the colours of the dying light. The sky was ablaze with orange and purple, the first stars daring to peek through the veil of twilight. The beauty of it all mocked him, a cruel reminder that the world kept turning, uncaring of his pain. He stared at the water, his chest heaving, his breath hitching as fresh tears carved paths down his cheeks.

He was tired—soul-tired. The weight of rejection, of betrayal, of heartbreak, pressed down on him, threatening to drown him before the lake even had a chance. Every path seemed to lead him back here, to this hollow ache that consumed him.

Maybe the lake held the answer. Maybe it’s cool, silent depths could finally quiet the chaos in his head. The whispers of unworthiness, the relentless echo of betrayal, the crushing loneliness—they could all be silenced here. He stood slowly, his legs trembling beneath him as he stepped forward, the water licking at his shoes.

He looked up one last time, the fiery hues of the sky fading into deep purples and blues. It was beautiful, he thought distantly. A cruel kind of beauty, but beauty, nonetheless. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let out a scream—a guttural, anguished cry that tore through the stillness. It echoed through the woods, into the emptiness of the night, a primal release of everything he had been holding inside for too long. His pain, his anger, his heartbreak—it all poured out in that one desperate cry.

When the echoes faded, Adam sank back to his knees, the cold-water pooling around him. His scream had left him hollow, like a storm that had passed but left destruction in its wake. Yet the pain remained, gnawing and relentless, a reminder that he was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting a life that seemed intent on breaking him.

Adam closed his eyes as the cold water lapped around his knees. The chill seeped into his skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache inside him. It was soothing in a way, numbing the relentless pain that had consumed him for so long. He let his body relax, surrendering to the icy embrace of the lake. The current was patient, gentle at first, but he knew it would find him soon enough. It always did.

It was only a matter of time. He wanted his emotions to be drained away into the lake.

Without emotions, without feelings, he wouldn’t have to fight anymore—to be seen, to be chosen, to be enough. He wouldn’t have to keep praying for someone to stay, someone to look past all his flaws and imperfections and decide he was worthy. He wouldn’t have to feel the sharp sting of hope kindling in his chest, only to be extinguished when they left him for someone else. For Lucifer. Always Lucifer.

Why was it always him? Adam’s thoughts spiralled, carried by the water’s pull as his body began to drift. He had fallen for Lilith once, a quiet, yearning crush that he hadn’t dared to voice for fear of ruining their friendship. But it hadn’t mattered; Lilith had only ever had eyes for Lucifer. Adam had accepted it, or so he thought. Then there was Lute. Sweet, funny Lute, who had seemed so much like him—until she wasn’t. Until she had found Lucifer more interesting, more deserving, and cut Adam out of her life like he had never mattered at all.

And Eve. God, Eve. She had been different, or so Adam had let himself believe. She had been kind, attentive, and he had foolishly let himself hope she could love him the way he had loved her. But she had gone behind his back too, slipping into Lucifer’s arms with a practiced ease that made Adam wonder if he had ever truly known her.

Then came Steve, a fleeting chance, a moment of reckless hope. Steve had looked at him, smiled at him like he was worth something. But even that had crumbled when Steve turned to Lucifer, the two of them wrapped in an embrace that left Adam hollow and gasping for air.

Lucifer. The name echoed in Adam’s mind like a curse, a weight he couldn’t escape. Lucifer, who had been his best friend. The person Adam had trusted more than anyone, loved more than anything. Lucifer, who had shared his nest, worn his clothes, eaten at his table, and been part of his family. Adam had given so much of himself to Lucifer, but it was never enough. It had never been enough.

He slipped.

It was an accident.

Adam slipped into the lake. It was an accident, the kind born of distraction and misstep. One moment, he stood at the edge, lost in thought, and the next, the ground gave way beneath him. The icy water rushed up to meet him, cold fingers wrapping around his legs, his waist, his chest, as though the lake itself had been waiting for this moment.

For a second, Adam froze, his breath catching as the chill bit into him. He imagined the water climbing higher, enveloping him entirely, the cold snug around his neck like a quiet invitation. As the current gently coaxed him downward, he let himself believe his body was sinking, weightless, carried not by struggle but by surrender. The thought of drifting, of being pulled away from everything—the pain, the rejection, the betrayal—felt almost peaceful. Far away from Lucifer, far away from it all.

The heaviness in his chest began to lift. For the first time in what felt like years, the suffocating knot of anger and despair unravelled. The ache dulled as he gave in to the water's embrace. The world around him dimmed—the dying sun’s glow, the whispering wind in the trees. It all faded into a distant hum. Adam closed his eyes and waited.

He hadn’t meant for this. Not really. But maybe… maybe this was his place. To let go, to sink into the depths, where the lake could carry him far from the ache of trying to matter, to be loved. Somewhere he wouldn’t have to fight. His breath trembled as he slipped further beneath the surface, his thoughts quieting, the current cradling him like a lullaby.

The cold tightened its grip, and Adam felt himself pulled deeper. His limbs turned heavy, his heartbeat an erratic thrum in his ears. Darkness pressed against his vision, shrinking his world to the rippling glow of the moonlight far above. His lungs burned, screaming for air, but his body refused. He was sinking, surrendering, letting the current decide. Until—

Something yanked at him. Rough, burning hands wrapped around his wrist, piercing the cold. He jolted sluggishly, then violently, as he was pulled upward. The surface shattered around him in a burst of noise and icy spray. Air rushed into his lungs in choking, broken gasps as he was dragged onto the riverbank.

Adam sat, unmoving, his soaked clothes clinging to him, heavy as the silence around him. He stared at the lake’s dark, rippling surface, where the moonlight shimmered, untouched, indifferent. His breath hitched, his lashes dripping water as he blinked. His body trembled from the cold, but inside, a different kind of chill took root.

Oh.

Oh… he hadn’t meant for this.

He hadn’t meant to fall in, hadn’t meant to sink so far. He only wanted to escape for a moment, to lose himself in the water and leave his emotions behind—not to let go of everything. Not like that.

The bank beneath him was jagged and unkind, the stones biting through his drenched clothes. The night air cut into his skin, sharp and relentless. Adam coughed, his chest heaving as water spilled from his lungs, each breath raw and painful. Tears blurred his vision, and he couldn’t tell if they were from the lake or the sharp ache inside him.

Beside him, someone gasped, their breaths uneven and shallow. Adam turned his head sluggishly toward the sound, but his body refused to move, rooted in exhaustion and the weight of what just happened.

"Adam," the voice choked out, hoarse and trembling, "Addie..."

Lucifer collapsed onto his knees beside him, his slender frame trembling from the cold and exertion. His blonde hair was plastered to his pale face, rivulets of water trailing down his sharp features. His soaked clothes clung to his thin, bony frame, making him look even smaller, more fragile than usual.

But Adam didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at anything. His gaze was locked on the water, the dark, rippling surface that had nearly claimed him. The world around him was muted, distant, like he was watching it through frosted glass. He didn’t feel the stones cutting into his skin, didn’t register the frantic movement of the boy beside him. He just sat there, his hands limp in his lap, his body slack and unresponsive.

Lucifer, crouched beside him, coughed violently, his thin frame shuddering with each ragged breath. His golden hair clung to his pale face, drenched and tangled, but he didn’t care. His wide blue eyes were frantic, darting over Adam as if trying to make sure he was still there, still alive.

"Adam," Lucifer croaked, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Addie—Adam, please."

His hands trembled as they reached for Adam, fumbling over the wet fabric of his hoodie. The material was cold and unyielding under his touch, but Lucifer clung to it like it was a lifeline. He tugged weakly at the hood, trying to pull Adam closer, his voice breaking into incoherent hiccups.

"Don’t—don’t you dare do that again," Lucifer choked out, his words fragmented by the sobs clawing up his throat.

Tears blurred his vision as he leaned in, cupping Adam’s face with shaking hands. His palms felt the sharp chill of Adam’s skin, but Adam didn’t flinch, didn’t react. His green eyes remained fixed on the water, empty and hollow, as if his soul had been left behind beneath the surface.

Lucifer’s heart fractured further at the sight.

"Addie, please, look at me," he begged, his voice high and desperate. "Please, say something—anything! Just... just let me know you're still here."

But Adam didn’t say a word. His silence was deafening, louder than any scream could ever be.

A broken sob escaped Lucifer as he dropped his forehead against Adam’s shoulder, his body wracked with trembling cries. His arms slid around Adam’s-soaked form, clinging to him as if he could hold him together, as if his embrace alone could anchor him to the world. Lucifer buried his face in the crook of Adam’s neck, his tears mixing with the lake water that still dripped from Adam’s hair.

"This is all my fault," Lucifer whispered, his voice barely audible, muffled against Adam’s cold skin. "I—I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to push you away."

His fingers gripped Adam’s hoodie tighter, his knuckles white with the effort.

"I’m sorry," he gasped, his sobs spilling freely now. "I’m so sorry, Addie. I should’ve been better. I should’ve seen—"

His voice cracked, splintering into a cry that tore from his chest. "You’re all I have. You’re everything, and I almost—"

 He couldn’t finish the thought, the words dying in his throat. Lucifer pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Adam’s face, his blue eyes red-rimmed and glistening with tears.

"Please," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. "Please, don’t leave me. I—"

He faltered, his breath hitching. "I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to."

Adam remained motionless, his expression unreadable. The warmth that had always defined him, that radiated through every smile, every laugh, was gone. Lucifer shook his head, his tears falling harder.

"Say something, Addie," he begged again, his voice barely holding together. "Hate me, scream at me, anything—just don’t leave me like this. Please don’t leave me."

The silence stretched, suffocating and cruel. Lucifer’s chest heaved with the weight of his grief, his heart breaking further with every passing second that Adam didn’t respond. Finally, with a trembling breath, Lucifer rested his head against Adam’s shoulder again, his tears soaking into the fabric of his hoodie.

"I’m sorry," he whispered again, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the night. "I’m so, so sorry."

For what felt like an eternity, Adam sat like a statue, unyielding and silent. Lucifer clung to him, his sobs gradually fading into quiet, shaky breaths. The lake continued to ripple in the breeze, its surface glittering mockingly under the pale moonlight, while the world around them felt as if it had been carved into a graveyard of frozen moments.

And still, Adam said nothing.

Lucifer clung to Adam like a lifeline, his entire frame trembling with the weight of the words he could no longer keep inside. His fingers dug into Adam’s sodden hoodie, his face buried in the curve of Adam’s shoulder as the tears spilled freely, soaking into the already damp fabric. Each word that escaped him was a jagged edge, scraping raw against his throat.

"I—I didn’t like her, Addie," he stammered, the confession clawing its way out of him in a broken gasp. "Lilith—I never liked her. I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to help you win her over, I didn’t want too. I didn’t want you to be with her, not because I had an interest in her. God, no. I hated her. I hated the way you looked at her, I hated that you thought you weren’t enough, like you needed to change to fit her stupid, shallow expectations. She wasn’t good enough for you, Addie! She wasn’t!"

His fingers tightened their grip, pulling Adam closer as if terrified he might slip away again.

"I—I made her focus on me," he choked, his voice rising in desperation. "Not because you weren’t good enough for her, but because she wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want her to take you away from me, Adam. It’s always been us—just us. And I was so scared. So scared that she’d ruin that."

Adam remained still, his head tilted slightly, his face unreadable. His silence only made Lucifer spiral further.

"I was selfish," Lucifer continued, his sobs hitching with every breath. "I thought if I could just make her leave, everything would go back to normal. But it didn’t. You started pulling away from me, Addie. You started... slipping through my fingers, and it killed me. I didn’t want that! I was so relieved when she stopped bothering us, but then—then you kept talking about her. You kept bringing her up, acting like I loved her, like I cared about her, and it wasn’t true! It wasn’t true!"

Lucifer pressed his face harder against Adam’s shoulder, his voice muffled and thick with tears. "I never loved her. I never even liked her. I just wanted to keep you with me. I wanted us to stay the way we were."

A sharp sob tore through him as he tried to catch his breath, but the words wouldn’t stop. They spilled out in a torrent, unstoppable now.

"And then there was Lute," he gasped, his voice cracking. "You told me about her, and it was like—I don’t know, Addie, it felt like she was threatening to take you away too. Another alpha, another someone trying to come between us. I—I couldn’t let that happen."

His grip faltered for a moment, his fingers trembling against Adam’s hoodie.

"I did the same thing with her," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I made her look at me. She wanted an omega to protect and take care of, so I became that. I played the part just to make her go away. And it worked, didn’t it? She left. She cut you off. She wasn’t good enough for you, Addie. She wasn’t. None of them are!"

Lucifer’s sobs grew louder, more frantic, as he clutched Adam tighter, as if he could pour all his anguish into that embrace.

"I’m sorry," he cried, over and over, his voice breaking with every word. "I’m so sorry, Addie. I was scared. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I hurt you, and I’m so—so sorry."

Adam’s silence loomed over him, oppressive and deafening. Lucifer’s chest heaved with the effort of trying to explain, to justify, to beg for forgiveness all at once.

"And Eve," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, Eve. She was poison, Addie. She kept saying—kept telling me I was born wrong, that I was broken, that I had to be fixed. She didn’t care about you. She didn’t care about us. She just wanted to tear me away from you and ruin everything. I had to get her away from you, Addie. I had to. She wasn’t right for you."

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his tear-streaked face a picture of devastation as he looked at Adam’s blank, dazed expression. His hands moved to cup Adam’s face, trembling as they cradled him gently, almost reverently.

"And Steve—" Lucifer let out a bitter, almost hysterical laugh through his tears. "I didn’t even know Steve. You didn’t even know him! But the way he moved on, the way he made out with someone else the moment you weren’t looking—it proved it, didn’t it? He wasn’t good enough either, Addie. He wasn’t. None of them are. None of them could ever love you like I do."

Lucifer’s voice cracked on the last word, and he swallowed hard, his chest tight with the weight of the final, unspoken truth.

"Because I do, Addie," he whispered, his thumb brushing against Adam’s clammy cheek. "I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. You’re the only person who’s ever accepted me, who’s ever looked at me like I wasn’t broken, like I wasn’t just an omega to be pitied or fixed. You’re everything to me, Addie. Everything. And I—I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you to someone else."

His tears fell faster now, hot and endless, as he leaned his forehead against Adam’s, his voice breaking with every syllable. "I love you so much, and I’ve hurt you so much, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to make you see—I just—I’m so sorry, Addie. I’m so sorry."

Lucifer’s sobs wracked his body as he held Adam’s face, his blue eyes searching desperately for any sign of recognition, any flicker of response. But Adam remained still, his expression blank, his silence a void that threatened to swallow Lucifer whole.

Lucifer’s hands shook as they gripped Adam’s face, his fingers trembling against Adam’s skin as if his touch could somehow pull Adam back to him, make him see the truth. His chest ached, a suffocating, hollow pain that felt like it was ripping him apart from the inside. Every breath he took felt jagged, caught somewhere between regret and desperation, like he was suffocating on the words he’d never said before. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold them in, but now, with Adam so close, the dam had broken.

“I’m twisted, Addie,” Lucifer choked out, his voice hoarse with the weight of everything he had buried for so long. “I—I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of anybody else touching you. Anybody else being with you.”

His breath hitched, his hands tightening their grip on Adam’s shoulders, pulling him even closer as if he could absorb Adam’s warmth into his very being.

He winced, like the admission itself had left a wound. “When somebody else even gets near you, it’s like… it’s like I’m going to throw up. I—I can smell their pheromones, Addie. I can feel them, feel their presence on you, and it’s… it’s unbearable. Like they’re taking something that’s mine. You’ve always been mine. You’ve always been the one who mattered. But I was too afraid to ever tell you. I thought—I thought if you knew just how much I loved you, you’d hate me. That you’d see how twisted I am. How broken I am.”

His eyes searched Adam’s face, desperate for any sign, any hint of a reaction, but Adam’s expression remained unreadable, a blank slate that only made Lucifer feel more hopeless, more out of control.

“I didn’t know what to do, Addie. I didn’t know how to tell you,” Lucifer continued, his voice a mix of agony and shame. "So I... I played games. Every time someone showed interest in you, every time someone threatened to take you away, I—I played games. I was so scared, Addie. I thought if I could just make them go away, make them leave you alone, we could stay together, just the two of us. I thought you’d never see through it, never see how messed up I really am. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong."

He pulled back slightly, his fingers trembling as he wiped his tears away, only to have them replaced by more, the flood of emotion too much to contain. His voice grew quieter, more fragile, like the very weight of his confession was too much for him to bear.

“You deserve more than this, Adam,” Lucifer whispered. “You deserve someone who doesn’t play these games, who doesn’t treat you like a prize to fight for. But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t let anyone take you. And so I—Lilith, Lute, Eve, Steve—they were never real to me. None of them mattered. They were just people in the way, people I had to remove, because I love you too much. I couldn’t let them take you from me. I thought I could make you see that, if I just kept playing the part, you’d stay. But I was wrong.”

Lucifer’s breath shuddered as he leaned his forehead against Adam’s, his eyes searching desperately for some kind of understanding, for some glimmer of forgiveness that he didn’t think he deserved.

“I’m so sorry, Addie,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it.”

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart crack with each word. “You’re the only one who’s ever been on my mind. The only one I’ve ever cared about. And now… now I’ve ruined it. I’ve ruined everything.”

Lucifer’s fingers slipped down Adam’s arms, his touch trembling, but he didn’t pull away. “I thought… I thought I could protect you from them. From anyone who would take you away from me. But all I did was push you further and further from me. I didn’t know how to stop. I just wanted you to stay, just wanted you to need me the way I need you.”

He let out a broken laugh, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt the weight of his own words. “I’m a coward, Addie. A selfish coward. And I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to know how much I love you. I need you to know the truth, even if it’s too late."

Lucifer’s breath was coming in sharp, uneven gasps now, the emotions swirling inside him too much to bear. “Please… please, say something. Please tell me you don’t hate me. I don’t know what I’ll do if you do.”

 His voice cracked, the rawness of his confession settling deep within him, leaving him exposed and vulnerable in a way he had never allowed himself to be before. But even as the words spilled from him, he was terrified that Adam’s silence, his blank expression, meant that it was all too late.

“I love you, Adam,” Lucifer whispered one last time, his voice fragile. “I’ve always loved you. And I’ll keep loving you, even if you never forgive me. Even if you never look at me the same way again."

Adam’s head spun, each word sinking into him like a weight too heavy to bear. The world around him blurred, the air thick with the oppressive weight of Lucifer’s confession, like it was suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. His vision swayed, and his stomach churned as the words rattled around in his skull, refusing to make sense. The dizziness spun faster, each thought, each memory twisting with the harsh sting of betrayal, of love, of something he wasn’t sure he could comprehend.

His heart raced, thudding in his chest as he struggled to make sense of what Lucifer had said. It was all too much. Too much too fast. His body felt like it was collapsing under the weight of it all. He felt like he might throw up, the bile rising in his throat as his ears rang with the frantic urgency in Lucifer’s voice.

“Please… please just say something…” The desperation in Lucifer’s tone cut through him, the rawness, the pleading, but Adam couldn’t respond.

Not yet. His mouth was dry, his lips cracked and sore. He didn’t know what to say. The world felt like it was slipping out of focus, and he was slipping with it.

"I..." Adam started; his voice rough, hoarse as it cracked under the weight of his confusion. The words felt like they were choking him, each syllable heavier than the last. The air was thick with tension, every breath seeming to get caught in his throat.

Lucifer’s breath hitched at the sound of Adam’s voice, a flicker of hope crossing his tear-streaked face. He crawled closer, moving desperately, frantically to Adam’s side. He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as they cupped Adam’s face, leaning in, begging.

"Yes? Yes? What is it, Addie? Please—please, just tell me! I’ll do anything. Anything, just please don’t leave me." His voice cracked, raw with emotion, desperate to cling to whatever shred of connection he could.

Adam’s heart hammered in his chest, but his mind couldn’t follow. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. He wanted to say something. Anything. But his body felt like it was betraying him, and his voice wouldn’t come.

"I’m..." Adam paused, his words choking him, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

He tried to lick his lips, but they were too dry, stinging as the movement scraped painfully against his cracked skin. His whole body flinched, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. This was it, wasn’t it? This was the moment everything changed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, his vision fuzzy and out of focus.

"I’m going home," he finally mumbled, his voice little more than a whisper, but it felt like it echoed in the space between them. It hung in the air like a bitter truth that neither of them was ready to face.

Lucifer’s eyes, swollen and red from crying, widened in shock, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He blinked rapidly, like trying to dispel the words Adam had just said, as if they were some kind of cruel trick.

"What? No, Addie, please..." His voice broke, desperate, like a man clinging to the last thread of hope. "You’re... you’re leaving? You’re really going?"

His hands scrambled for Adam, reaching out, his fingers grazing the wet fabric of Adam’s hoodie. But it was like he couldn’t hold on. His fingers slipped uselessly down Adam’s arm, helpless, unable to stop him.

The panic hit him then—raw, unfiltered, and fierce. It was an acid-hot flare that shot through his chest, making his heart skip a beat, making his limbs feel numb.

"Addie!" Lucifer cried out, his voice a ragged sob. His hands reached out again, this time grabbing onto Adam’s arm, tugging at him with a desperation that bordered on madness. "Please! Please don’t leave me!"

He scrambled on his knees, his body trembling as he tried to pull Adam back. "I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Addie! Please don’t leave me! Don’t hate me! I love you, I love you so much!"

His voice was breaking, his chest heaving with each painful breath, as if the words themselves were choking him. "Hit me! Push me around! Scream at me, yell at me! Anything, Addie! Just—just don’t leave me again!"

Lucifer’s tears fell freely now, streaking down his face, his sobs wracking his fragile form as he clung to Adam’s arm, his fingers shaking as he begged. The guilt, the self-loathing, the fear of losing Adam—everything crashed down on him at once. And all he could do was beg. Beg for Adam to stay. Beg for another chance. Beg for forgiveness, though he knew deep down that he didn’t deserve it.

"Please… don’t leave me. I’ll do anything... anything you want. Just please—" Lucifer gasped for air, his words stuttering as the overwhelming weight of his own pain consumed him. He pressed his forehead to Adam’s arm, as if trying to ground himself, trying to hold onto whatever piece of Adam was still there, still with him.

 "I’m so sorry, Addie. Please, please don’t leave me…"

The plea hung in the air between them, trembling with the raw ache of a love that had been both a gift and a curse. Lucifer was drowning in his own regret, in his own twisted need, and Adam, standing there, seemed like the only thing keeping him from completely unravelling.

But Adam… Adam wasn’t speaking. He wasn’t even looking at Lucifer anymore. And in that silence, in that hollow emptiness, Lucifer realized he may have already lost him.

Lucifer's fingers slipped down Adam’s arm, cold and trembling. He felt himself losing his grip, but he curled his hands desperately around Adam’s, clinging to him like a lifeline, his fingers shaking as he held on with both of his, trying to keep Adam close. His hands were so cold, his skin almost numb, but the warmth of Adam’s hand was all he needed, all he could focus on. His breathing hitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he gazed up at Adam with wide, tear-blurred eyes.

"Please, Adam..." Lucifer begged, his voice cracking, the words tumbling out in a broken plea. "Please, Addie... I’ll do anything you want. I won’t complain. I won’t say a single word against whatever you demand. You can hit me, hurt me, use me. I don’t care. I don’t care what you do to do, I don’t care if you use my body or beat me. Just don’t leave me, please."

His words were desperate, pitiful, his whole body trembling as if it might shatter into a thousand pieces under the weight of his own guilt. He sniffled, his chest tight with emotion as he gazed up at Adam, his eyes frantically trying to meet his green ones.

But Adam didn’t look down at him. Adam’s face remained a distant blur, the cool night air surrounding them thick with silence, broken only by the occasional crack of thunder in the distance. Lucifer’s eyes burned, still searching, his fingers tightening on Adam’s hand, trying to force him to look, to see how badly he needed him, how badly he was crumbling without him.

The sky cracked with a thunderous roar as the last remnants of the sun disappeared behind the mountains. And then, the rain fell.

It came quickly, heavy and unforgiving, soaking them both in an instant. The first drops hit Lucifer’s skin, cold and stinging. He didn’t flinch. Neither of them did. Adam didn’t flinch, even as the rain washed away the dirt and grime, the remnants of their pasts, their history, their brokenness. The only thing that moved was Lucifer’s grip, tightening on Adam’s hand, curling around it like a desperate plea to stop the world from crumbling.

The bonfire flickered out behind them, the flames extinguished by the rain, leaving behind only the distant murmurs of disappointed voices, the sound of people leaving, the sound of them moving on. Nobody walked their way. Nobody came to save them.

"Adam..." Lucifer called again, his voice broken, rasping, barely audible over the storm.

His chest tightened with the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had been built between them. Adam finally blinked, turning his head, his gaze falling on the other omega.

Lucifer was still on his knees, his clothes soaked, the mud clinging to him like a second skin. His eyes, once so bright, now looked dim, dull with the pain of everything he had kept hidden. His red-rimmed eyes were framed by the red carnation and apple crown—still there, still a symbol of their bond, even as everything else unravelled. Lucifer’s breath hitched as he looked up at Adam, trying, so desperately, to meet his gaze.

“A-Addie…” Lucifer breathed, the words a shudder, a sob that caught in his throat. He looked at Adam, his heart thundering in his chest as the rain fell harder, drenching them both.

"Do you hate me, Addie?" The words slipped from his mouth in a soft, fragile whisper, but it felt like they cut through him like a blade. "Do you hate me?"

Adam’s lips parted slightly, and Lucifer’s chest constricted with fear, but Adam didn’t answer. Instead, Adam spoke the words that sent a jolt through Lucifer’s heart.

"I’m going home now."

Lucifer’s world shattered. He didn’t say that he didn’t hate him. He didn’t say anything to assure him. Lucifer’s chest tightened, a sick, burning pain spreading through him like a wildfire, searing his heart.

"Adam, please..." Lucifer sobbed, his voice ragged, his hand still clinging to Adam’s. "Please, don’t leave me… I’m so sorry, Addie... I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was selfish. Please don’t leave me alone."

Adam didn’t respond. He simply shifted, his hand pulling from Lucifer’s grip, the movement sharp and cold. Lucifer’s eyes widened in panic as Adam began to step away, his hand slipping from Lucifer’s grasp. Lucifer struggled to hold on, squirming on his knees, trying to keep his fingers wrapped around Adam’s, his nails digging into Adam’s skin as he tried to anchor himself.

"Please, Adam! Please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!" Lucifer’s voice cracked with each frantic plea, his breath coming in sobs. "Please don’t leave me again. Please, please, Addie!"

But Adam pulled away, harder this time, his hand slipping free with a final, painful yank. Lucifer’s nails scraped across Adam’s skin, leaving shallow marks as his body trembled with the shock of it. Adam stumbled back, his foot slipping in the mud before he braced himself against a tree, but Lucifer didn’t stop. His eyes followed Adam’s every movement, his heart hammering in his chest.

The rain continued to fall, heavier now, soaking both of them to the bone.

Adam blinked down at Lucifer, his gaze hard, distant, unyielding. Neither spoke, their silence louder than any words could be. The thunder rolled again, louder this time, and the rain turned into sheets of water, pelting them both. Adam took a step back, his voice cold and hard, final.

"I’m going home. You should do the same."

And without another word, Adam turned, walking away from Lucifer, leaving him behind, alone in the rain.

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat, the cold air stinging his lungs. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His body trembled, his hands shaking as he crawled forward, dragging himself through the mud. He moved inch by inch, desperate, pleading without a voice, hoping, praying that Adam would turn back. But Adam didn’t.

Adam didn’t look back.

Lucifer stopped, his hands shaking in the mud, his body crumpling into the ground as his sobs wracked his body. His chest burned with the weight of everything—his guilt, his love, his fear.

This wasn’t how it was meant to happen. This wasn’t how it was meant to end.

His sobs were broken, gasping, choking on his own tears.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered into the rain, his voice barely audible over the storm. "I’m so sorry, Addie… Please… don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone…"

But the only answer was the rain, the distant sound of footsteps fading away, and the cold, empty space between them that grew larger with each passing second. And Lucifer, broken and lost, sank deeper into the mud, crumbling under the weight of everything he had done, everything he had lost.

“Please come back.”

~#~

The following days felt like a blur to Adam, a fog of sickness and exhaustion that seemed to swallow him whole. Every step he took, every breath he drew, was heavy—each one a burden he couldn’t escape. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, like he was walking through a world where everything was muted, stripped of color, drained of meaning. It was as though the weight of the rain, of the words, of the pain, had followed him inside, seeping into his bones.

Of course, he was sick. He had always been fragile, always too soft, too weak for this world. Omegas were always the ones who couldn’t weather the storms. And the storm that had ravaged him, that had torn through his heart just hours earlier, had left its mark.

The moment Adam stepped inside his small, cramped flat, he collapsed onto his bed without so much as a thought. His body, drenched in cold rain, felt too heavy to move, too numb to care. His eyes were raw from crying, his throat sore, and his heart... His heart was empty, a hollow ache where love used to live. He didn’t bother to strip off his damp clothes or get under the covers; he didn’t care. He just lay there, the weight of everything pressing down on him.

He woke hours later, still fully clothed, lying atop the thick quilt he usually found comfort in. His head pounded with a ferocity that made him wish the world would just stop. The air was thick, suffocating, and he could feel the fever creeping over him. His body felt feverish, his skin flushed and sticky. He tried to push himself up, but everything was too much, too overwhelming. The slightest movement caused his stomach to churn, and he sank back down, the cold sting of the wet clothes against his skin only reminding him of how broken he truly felt.

And so, the next few days passed in a haze. He could barely lift his head from the pillow, too weak to even get up to go to the bathroom. He called in sick to work—his voice barely a whisper when he spoke, cracking under the weight of exhaustion and fever.

The days stretched on, blending into one another, marked only by the incessant ringing in his head, the sickening throb that pulsed behind his eyes. He couldn’t remember when it had started, but the pain felt like it would never end. It was like the rain, the loss, the betrayal, had all settled into his body, turning it against him, twisting his insides into something unrecognizable. He wanted to escape it, to make it stop, but there was no escape. Not from the sickness. Not from himself.

Finally, after what felt like days of lying in a fevered stupor, Adam forced himself to sit up. His body protested, every joint aching, every muscle weak, but he couldn’t lay there any longer. He had to get up, to find some kind of relief. His legs shook as he swung them off the bed, but his knees buckled beneath him, and he had to catch himself against the edge of the nightstand.

The room was spinning.

Adam’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he pushed himself upright, fighting to stay steady on his feet. The thumping in his skull intensified with each step he took, like a drumbeat in his mind. Every footfall echoed in his ears, reverberating through his body like a slow, painful torture. He stumbled, barely managing to catch himself against the bathroom doorframe.

His vision blurred as he reached for the door handle, but it was as if the world was playing tricks on him—spinning, distorting, twisting. He barely registered the bathroom as he stumbled forward, his legs threatening to give out again. He had to sit down, just for a moment, just to catch his breath, just to stop the world from spinning.

With a shaky hand, he lowered himself onto the closed toilet lid, too weak to make it to the bathroom counter. The ringing in his ears was unbearable now, the room swimming around him. He put his head in his hands, trying to steady himself. His heart pounded erratically, too fast, too loud. But the dizziness wouldn't subside.

He forced himself to open his eyes, blinking hard as he reached for the cupboard above the sink. His fingers were numb, trembling as they brushed against the cold bottles of flu medication. The world around him shifted again, everything sliding out of focus. He couldn’t tell if he was standing or sitting or if his body was still somewhere between the two. But eventually, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers found the bottle he needed.

He clutched the pill bottle in his hands, his grip weak, and brought it to his lips, swallowing the pills without a second thought. It didn’t matter that his throat burned, or that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something. The fever, the pain, the emptiness—it was all too much, and the only thing he could do was force something into his body, hope it helped, hope it numbed the ache that was consuming him.

But even as he swallowed the medication, it felt like nothing would ever help. It felt like there was no escape from the hollow pit inside his chest, the darkness that had taken root ever since he left Lucifer behind.

His whole body trembled as he finally lowered the bottle, the cold sinking deep into his bones. He leaned against the bathroom wall, his eyes heavy, the dizziness so intense it felt like he might fall over. The room seemed to close in on him, and he sank back against the tile, curling up on the floor as the world spun faster, faster, until he could no longer tell where the pain ended, and the exhaustion began.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He was alone, lost in his own sickness, too weak to fight, too broken to care. The world outside could keep turning, could keep spinning. But Adam couldn’t.

Not anymore.

The next day, Adam woke in his bed, his body still weak but no longer consumed by the fever. The fog in his head had begun to clear, though the thudding ache that had plagued him since the night of the bonfire lingered, a dull reminder of everything he had pushed to the back of his mind. He rubbed his face with a groan, the rough stubble catching against his palm. Shifting beneath the quilts, he sat up slowly, testing his balance, feeling the familiar ache in his muscles from having been bedridden for so long. He wasn’t dizzy anymore. The thundering pulse in his head had softened to a dull throb, like distant thunder that still rumbled but didn’t seem to threaten a storm.

A deep sigh escaped him as he tilted his head toward the bedroom window. His green eyes—once so full of light—were dim now, their spark having dulled. The rain still pattered down, soft but steady, against the glass. The sky was a heavy grey, and the air felt colder, a clear sign that summer had finally given in to autumn.

Ah. Summer was officially over now.

Adam’s mind replayed the memory of the bonfire—the way it had felt like a farewell, a final chapter in something he had never fully understood. The bonfire had always been the closing of summer, the marking of a transition. And yet, it felt more like an end than just a season changing.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and grimaced, the tangling strands only adding to the discomfort. He needed a shower, a clean start, something to wash away the sickly weight of everything that had happened. He needed to do something, anything, to feel like himself again. Go back to work, face the world—just move.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut for five long minutes, hoping to push the thoughts of Lucifer from his mind. But they were persistent. They kept returning, over and over again, until he couldn’t ignore them anymore. So, with a strained sigh, he slipped out of bed, stumbling slightly as his legs wobbled beneath him. He felt weak, exhausted, like he was dragging himself through a haze. He hadn’t been up for more than a few minutes when his knees threatened to buckle. His body felt like it had been drained of life.

He wandered aimlessly through his small flat, the familiar space feeling foreign, as if it wasn’t even his anymore. The routine actions felt automatic—he showered, brushed his teeth, dressed. He didn’t really pay attention to what he was doing, his mind too occupied with the tangled mess inside his chest.

But then, as he turned toward the chest of drawers to grab socks, something caught his eye. He froze.

There, atop the drawers, were the photo frames. His heart seemed to stop. His green eyes locked onto them, the familiar warmth of those images striking him like a cold wave. He felt something tight in his throat as he stepped closer, his fingers trembling. He knew what they were before he even looked.

It was the photographs. The ones he had kept. The ones he had never been able to throw away, even after everything.

Adam’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stood there, gazing at the collection of memories. The first photo was of him and Lucifer—two little boys, beaming at the camera. Adam’s smile was wide, almost too big for his face, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of being so grown-up on their first day of primary school. Lucifer was pressed against him, holding onto Adam’s school sweater with his tiny, trembling fingers. He looked so small, so shy compared to Adam’s excited expression.

Ah, Adam remembered. It was their first day at school. Neither of them had known anything about alphas, omegas, or betas then. It was just Adam and Lucifer. Two best friends, inseparable, happy. Just kids. There was a red carnation pinned to each of their sweaters—signaling that they were unpresented, still unaware of the world beyond their small, perfect little bubble.

He moved to the next photo. It was the same—Lucifer beside him. But this one was taken after Lucifer had presented as an omega. Adam’s heart clenched in his chest as he studied the image. He could see the sadness in Lucifer’s eyes that Adam hadn’t noticed at the time. Back then, he had promised to look after him, to take care of him. Lucifer’s family had turned their backs on him when he presented, but Adam hadn’t known how deep the hurt went. He only knew that Lucifer needed him. And so, Lucifer stayed with them, with Adam’s family, because his own had rejected him.

Adam swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stared at the next photo. This one was of him and Lucifer, holding sparklers on a summer night, fireworks lighting up the sky behind them. The moment was magical, the kind of simple happiness only childhood could offer. But there, in that photo, Adam had never noticed that Lucifer’s eyes weren’t looking at the fireworks. They were looking at him, his face tilted ever so slightly toward Adam, his eyes soft and full of something Adam hadn’t understood until now.

In the next photo, Adam could see the difference. He had presented as an omega, his arms around Lucifer in a tight, protective hug. Adam’s mom was between them, squeezing them both into a warm embrace. Lucifer’s cheeks were blushed, his fingers curled into the bottom of Adam’s oversized hoodie. The moment had been filled with so much joy—love, in its purest form. But looking at it now, Adam saw the way Lucifer’s gaze lingered on him. He was always looking at him. Always.

It hit him harder than he expected—the realization that Lucifer had been holding on to him all along. Every moment, every memory.

But then he picked up the last photo—the one taken before Eve and before Lute. It was of them sitting on a fallen log, wearing their familiar carnation and apple flower crowns. It had been taken at Adam’s grandpa’s birthday. And in that photo, Lucifer was pressed up against Adam’s side, his arms wrapped around Adam’s, his face beaming with happiness, his head leaning against Adam’s.

The image was so full of warmth. So full of love.

Adam let out a breath, his fingers brushing over their faces. He had kept these photos all these years. Even after Eve and Lute, he had never thrown them away. They were all he had left. The only tangible pieces of the bond he and Lucifer had shared.

“Lucifer loves me?” Adam whispered, staring down at the photograph in his hand.

His eyes flickered between the other photos, the truth settling into his bones like a stone. He put the picture back down, his hands shaking as he stood up and pulled a box from beneath the chest of drawers. Inside, there was an album. A collection of photos of them—so many of Lucifer by himself, so many where Lucifer was looking at him, always touching him, always holding on to him, his fingers curled into Adam’s clothing. Always the same—Lucifer was smiling, but it was the way he looked at Adam that spoke louder than anything.

The realization hit him like a slap to the face.

“Holy shit.” Adam whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “How didn’t I see it?”

It was so obvious now. How had he missed it? Lucifer had been in love with him for so long, and Adam had been blind to it. Every sign was there in the photographs. All those times he had smiled at them, never noticing the tenderness in Lucifer’s gaze. The way Lucifer had always looked at him. Always reaching out to him. Always seeking contact with him.

Lucifer had been in love with him.

And Adam had never seen it.

Adam sat back heavily on the edge of his bed; the photo album still open in his hands. His fingers trembled as he stared down at the images, the weight of the truth finally crashing down on him. Lucifer had loved him. Had always loved him. How had he not seen it before? How had he been so blind to it?

His mind raced as the pieces began to fall into place, one after another. Suddenly, everything made sense—the way Lucifer always sought out his touch, always needed to be close to him. Adam’s stomach churned as the memories flooded in, sharp and painful, like a thousand cuts.

Lucifer had never used the bed his mama had set up for him when he stayed at Adam’s house. It was because Lucifer liked being with him. It was because Lucifer wanted to be close to him, wanted to be near him every single night. He had always shared Adam’s bed, even though he had a perfectly good one of his own.

The same way Lucifer had never built his own nest, always choosing to settle within Adam’s. They had shared a space for so long, but it had never clicked. Adam had thought it was just how things were between them—comfortable, natural. He had never questioned it. Why would he? It was just them.

But now... now it felt like a slap to the face. Lucifer had never wanted anything of his own. All the things Adam had taken for granted, all the small signs that had been so obvious in hindsight, came crashing down on him. The way Lucifer always wanted to hold his hand, the way he would slide closer during the nights they spent watching movies, the way his arms would wrap around Adam whenever they slept. Always so close. Always seeking the warmth of his touch.

Even when they’d gone to college, when they’d shared a dorm room, Lucifer had never used his own space. Adam’s heart twisted. He had always thought it was because they were best friends. It seemed natural that they would share a room. But Lucifer had his own room. He had his own bed. Yet, he had chosen to sleep in Adam’s. He had never even made an attempt to build a nest of his own.

And then there were the clothes. Adam had always thought it was endearing how Lucifer would borrow his things. His oversized hoodies, his shirts, even his underwear. It had never bothered him, not once. It was just the way they were. But now, it was so obvious. Lucifer hadn’t just borrowed his things because they were comfortable or because he didn’t have his own. No. He’d taken them because he wanted to have something of Adam’s, something that would tie him to Adam. in ways Adam hadn’t understood.

The underwear.

Adam's chest tightened as he recalled how, on more than one occasion, his underwear had gone missing. He’d chalked it up to losing them, forgetting where he had put them. But they would always turn up—clean and freshly folded, as if Lucifer had been taking care of them. It had never occurred to him, not once, that Lucifer had been using them.

Omegas.

Adam’s stomach lurched. Omegas were known for doing that. They would take the clothes, the underwear, of the one they loved, the one they wanted to mate with. They would wear them in secret, to be close to their scent, to feel their presence when their mate wasn’t there. Use them during their intimate moments alone. That’s what Lucifer had been doing all along. Taking Adam’s things, wearing them like a silent confession and using them to bring himself sweet relief.

Of course, Lucifer had been in love with him.

It wasn’t just the clothing. It wasn’t just the subtle touches or the constant closeness. It was everything. It was in the way Lucifer had always smelled—like apples. That sweetness, that warmth that clung to him, the pheromones that Adam had noticed but had never thought twice about. Lucifer always released it whenever they were together, mingling it with Adam’s own pheromones. They were there, every day. The scent that lingered in the air, the one that made Adam’s heartbeat faster, that made him feel at ease when Lucifer was nearby.

All of these were telltale signs of an Omega in love. Signs of an Omega that were presenting themselves to their chosen mate. Signs of an Omega that wanted to spread their legs for that certain person.

Adam felt dizzy, like the world had tilted on its axis. All this time, all these years, and he hadn’t seen it. The way Lucifer had loved him—always, so silently, so quietly. He had been right in front of him, all along. The signs had been there, just waiting for Adam to wake up. But he had been too blind to see.

He clutched the photo album to his chest, the weight of the photographs suddenly unbearable. The truth had settled deep inside him, making him feel like he was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. He had missed every single sign.

Lucifer had loved him for so long.

And Adam had never once realized.

"How... how could I have been so stupid?" he whispered to himself, his voice breaking.

He felt the sting of tears that threatened to spill, but he quickly wiped them away, anger bubbling up inside him. Anger at himself. Anger at everything.

Adam exhaled deeply, a shuddering breath that felt like it carried years of buried frustration and confusion. He set the photograph down with care, his fingertips lingering on the frame as if it held all the answers he so desperately sought. But no answers came. Only silence.

"Does it excuse everything?" Adam murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. The questions churned in his mind like a storm, chaotic and relentless.

Lucifer had gone after Lilith. Not because he liked her, not because he wanted her, but because Adam did. Adam had confessed his crush on Lilith, and Lucifer had turned it into a game—a cruel, heartless game. To break her heart, Adam guessed. Or was it more than that? Was it to ensure that Lilith couldn’t like Adam back? That she wouldn’t be a threat to Lucifer’s unspoken claim on him?

The thought made Adam’s stomach twist. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

"Why?" he asked the empty room. "Why would you do that?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to untangle the mess of his thoughts. But the knots only tightened. Lucifer hadn’t stopped with Lilith. No, he’d kept playing, even after Adam had told him about Lute. Lucifer had twisted the game into something else entirely—something darker. He had gone after Lute too, spinning her into the web of manipulation, breaking her heart, just as he’d done with Lilith.

"To keep me for himself," Adam muttered bitterly, the words like ash in his mouth.

That had to be it. Lucifer had wanted Adam to stay unattached, to be his and his alone. But at what cost? At what fucking cost?

Adam’s hands clenched into fists on his thighs as he thought of Eve. His first girlfriend. She had known. She had seen what Adam had been too blind to see. Eve had claimed she could fix Lucifer, that she could help him. Eve was the same as Lucifer. Both were twisted and fucked up.

"Why do all this shit?" Adam asked aloud, his voice trembling with frustration. "Why play with so many people's emotions? Why play these fucked-up games, Luci? Why?"

He stared down at the photograph of them again, his eyes lingering on Lucifer's shy smile, the way his hands were always reaching for Adam in every picture. He traced a finger over Lucifer's face, his touch light and hesitant, as if the photograph could shatter under the weight of his emotions.

"When I told you about Lilith..." Adam began, his voice cracking. "Why didn’t you just tell me then? Why didn’t you say you had feelings for me? Why didn’t you tell me after Lilith? After Eve? After Lute? Why didn’t you just... say something?"

But the photograph, of course, gave no answer.

Adam groaned deeply, dropping his head into his hands again. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to think. The weight of everything—Lucifer’s love, his manipulations, his brokenness—was crushing him. It made him feel sick all over again.

Lucifer’s games had destroyed so much. They had ruined Adam’s self-worth, leaving him to question if he was the problem, if he was the reason no one wanted him. Adam had spiraled so deeply into that despair, into that darkness, that he had walked into the lake, ready to end it all. Ready to drown the pain, the doubt, the hopelessness, in the cold, black water.

Because of Lucifer.

Because of the person Adam had trusted more than anyone else in the world. His best friend. His partner in everything. The one person who was supposed to stand by him, to protect him, to love him without causing harm. And yet... Lucifer’s love had nearly destroyed him.

Adam rubbed his eyes, his fingers digging into his temples as if he could rub away the memories, the pain.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of his anguish.

He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic patter of rain against the window. It should have been soothing, but it wasn’t. Not now.

Lucifer was toxic. Unguided. Poisonous in ways Adam couldn’t ignore. But Adam knew him. He knew the boy who had clung to him as a child, who had sought comfort and safety in his arms. Lucifer wasn’t just toxic; he was broken, a mess of confusion and desperation.

Adam sighed again, his heart aching in his chest.

"You’re a mess, Luci," he whispered. "And you broke me too."

But the worst part was, even now, after everything, Adam wasn’t sure he could let him go.

…but one thing was for sure.

“I need fucking therapy.”

~#~

Adam didn’t want to return to work. The thought of stepping into the sterile monotony of his office after spending a day buried in the comforting haze of nostalgia filled him with a heavy sense of dread. But he had no choice. Duty called, and reality was relentless.

The previous day had been bittersweet hours lost flipping through yellowing pages of family albums, each photo tugging at a thread in his heart. The images stirred memories of laughter and warmth; a life far removed from the cold void he now felt. It helped, just a little. He felt lighter, though still clouded, like a man who had glimpsed sunlight after weeks of rain but couldn’t quite leave the storm behind.

Standing in his small, dimly lit flat, Adam adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag and meticulously checked his coat pockets. Wallet, keys, phone—it was all there, though his movements were slow, as if his body resisted the inevitability of the day ahead. With a sigh, he stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him.

As he fumbled with the lock, a voice—small, trembling, and achingly familiar—broke the silence.

“A-Adam?”

His heart froze. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as if his body braced for a blow. Slowly, he turned his head.

Lucifer stood a few feet away, an awkward figure bathed in the pale overhead light of the corridor. He looked... wrong. His golden hair, usually neat and shining, was tangled and matted, clinging to his clammy skin. His eyes, a piercing blue that once sparkled with mischief and charm, now seemed hollow, ringed with dark shadows that told of sleepless nights. He wore a red-and-orange hoodie, the zipper slightly askew, paired with torn jeans. It was a far cry from the polished image Adam had always associated with him—the tailored coats, the crisp shirts, the air of effortless elegance.

Lucifer fidgeted under Adam’s gaze, shifting his weight from foot to foot like a schoolboy caught doing something wrong. His fragile state stirred something deep and instinctive within Adam—a protective urge he thought he’d buried. He wanted to pull Lucifer into the warmth of his flat, wrap him in a blanket, and shield him from the world.

But he couldn’t.

He swallowed hard, forcing those feelings down like bitter medicine. The past was a battlefield littered with betrayal, and he wasn’t ready to wade into it again. Adjusting the strap of his bag, he began to walk toward Lucifer, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

“Adam, I…” Lucifer’s voice cracked, his gaze darting everywhere but at Adam.

Adam didn’t stop. He brushed past him, the cold space between them cutting sharper than a blade. Lucifer let out a strangled noise, his hand shooting out to grab Adam’s arm. But his grip faltered, his fingers sliding off the fabric of Adam’s jacket as if even touch betrayed him.

Adam clenched his jaw, refusing to look back. He felt the weight of Lucifer’s presence behind him, the silence heavy with words neither of them could say.

Lucifer’s head dropped, his blonde hair falling into his face as he stared at his scuffed sneakers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words barely audible.

Guilt churned in Adam’s stomach, sharp and unrelenting. He wanted to turn around, wanted to wrap his arms around Lucifer and tell him it was okay, that he forgave him. But it wasn’t okay. Not yet.

Not after everything.

The memories of their past were a tangled knot of love and resentment. Lucifer had been everything to him once—his best friend, his confidant, the one person he thought he could trust with his whole heart. But that trust had been shattered when he discovered the truth: Lucifer, with his silver tongue and easy smile, had betrayed him in the worst way imaginable. Eve.

For years, Adam had been drowning in those emotions—love and hate, devotion and bitterness—all blending together into a storm that refused to settle. And now, standing in this cold, narrow corridor, those feelings surged back with a vengeance.

He tightened his grip on the strap of his bag and kept walking. His pace quickened, each step feeling heavier than the last. He wasn’t ready to face the past, wasn’t ready to confront the raw, bleeding wound that was Lucifer.

Behind him, Lucifer’s soft voice carried through the air one last time, fragile and desperate.

“Please… don’t leave me again.”

Adam’s heart ached, the words striking a chord he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. He faltered for a moment, his steps slowing, but he didn’t stop.

Not today.

Adam’s walk to Abbey Road Studios was brisk and quiet, the chill of the morning air biting against his cheeks. The streets of London had a subdued hum at this hour, the soft rustle of leaves and occasional distant rumble of a bus breaking the silence. His mind raced, though he kept his head down, focusing on the rhythm of his footsteps instead of the chaos within him.

By the time the iconic red brick facade of Abbey Road Studios loomed into view, a faint pang of nostalgia rippled through him. It was a place steeped in history, its legacy felt in every brick, every shadow. Despite the turmoil of the morning, being here never failed to stir a quiet sense of pride in Adam.

He stopped just before the entrance, pulling out his lanyard from his bag. The ID card, marked with his photograph and the words Associate Creative Producer, swung lightly as he slipped it over his head. Adam wasn’t at the top of the ladder, not by a long shot, but he had carved out a solid place for himself in the hierarchy. His voice carried weight in meetings, his ideas often nudging projects into new and exciting directions. He wasn’t just another cog in the machine—he mattered.

The glass doors slid open with a soft hiss as Adam stepped inside, the warmth of the lobby enveloping him immediately. Behind the sleek reception desk sat a beta woman with dark hair neatly pinned into a bun. She looked up from her computer, her lips curving into a polite smile.

“Morning, Adam,” she said, her tone cheery.

“Morning, Sophie.” Adam returned her smile with a quick, practiced grin, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He tapped his lanyard against the scanner by the counter and continued deeper into the building.

The corridors of Abbey Road Studios were a marvel, an intricate blend of history and modernity. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and coffee, an oddly comforting combination. Lining the walls were golden-framed posters of the bands and artists who had recorded here—icons immortalized in vibrant stills.

To his left, a photo of The Beatles captured their electric energy in the midst of a recording session, their eyes alight with determination. Beneath it, a plaque boasted details of their legendary record deal, signed within these very walls. Further down, another frame displayed a moody black-and-white image of Pink Floyd, the caption below marking the creation of The Dark Side of the Moon.

Each image seemed to whisper stories of triumphs and struggles, the magic that turned melodies into masterpieces. Adam’s eyes drifted over a more recent addition—a shot of a young, wild-eyed indie band holding their platinum record proudly. He had been part of that project, his suggestions helping to refine their raw sound into something that resonated with millions.

He allowed himself a flicker of pride before moving on.

The studios were a maze of recording rooms, editing bays, and conference spaces, the air humming faintly with the distant strains of instruments and voices. Adam passed by a sound engineer bent over a mixing console, their headphones askew as they worked. A group of session musicians laughed over steaming cups of tea near a vending machine, their camaraderie infectious.

He finally reached his destination—a mid-sized conference room tucked behind a frosted glass door. Pushing it open, Adam stepped inside, greeted by the familiar sight of the creative team already gathered around the long, sleek table. The walls here were bare except for an acoustic panel and a digital screen displaying the agenda for today’s meeting:

Project Rewind: Pre-Launch Strategy

“Adam! Just in time,” called James, the head producer, his voice warm but brisk. “We’re diving into the campaign rollout. Got a seat for you here.”

Adam slid into the chair offered, setting his bag down by his feet. As he pulled out his notepad and pen, he felt the eyes of his colleagues on him, some nodding in acknowledgment, others already lost in their tablets and documents.

He took a deep breath, forcing his personal turmoil to the back of his mind. Here, in this room, his thoughts mattered. His opinions shaped music that would someday line these golden-framed walls.

For now, that had to be enough.

The meeting was already in full swing when the door opened again, and someone entered. Adam didn’t notice at first, focused as he was on the agenda displayed on the screen. But then the room shifted—the air itself seemed to grow charged, and Adam’s head snapped up.

There she was.

Lilith.

Time slowed as she stepped into the room, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She was breathtaking, just as he remembered. Her thick, golden hair cascaded down her back in waves, catching the light like spun silk. Her piercing blue eyes, sharp and impossibly clear, swept over the room with practiced confidence, taking in the faces around the table as if she owned the very air they breathed. She was dressed impeccably in a tailored cream blazer and slacks, paired with delicate gold jewelry that glinted against her tan skin.

Adam felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

It had been years since he’d last seen her, and yet the sight of her sent an avalanche of emotions crashing through him—shock, confusion, a hint of anger, and an undeniable, unwelcome spark of admiration.

“Good morning,” Lilith said, her voice smooth and commanding as she strode to the front of the room. “Thank you all for being here. I’m Lilith Faulkner, head of partnerships at Horizon Entertainment.”

Horizon Entertainment. Of course. The name alone carried weight in the industry, their talent roster a who’s who of the most influential artists in the world. This was the partner Abbey Road had been courting for months, the collaboration that could redefine the studio’s place in the modern music landscape. And she—she—was their point of contact.

“Let’s make this a productive meeting,” Lilith continued, setting her leather-bound portfolio on the table and flashing a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I believe we’re all here for the same reason: to create something unforgettable.”

Adam swallowed hard, his throat dry. He barely registered the introductions and opening remarks, barely heard James laying out the studio’s goals for the partnership. His focus kept drifting back to Lilith. She was poised, professional, every inch the powerhouse executive she’d always aspired to be.

And she hadn’t looked at him once.

“Adam,” James said, jolting him out of his thoughts. “You’ve had a lot of input on the campaign strategy for Project Rewind. Why don’t you walk us through the highlights?”

Adam blinked, forcing himself to sit straighter.

“Of course,” he said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind inside him. He leaned forward, pulling up the files on his tablet and launching into a detailed breakdown of the marketing approach. He felt Lilith’s eyes on him now, sharp and assessing, but he didn’t falter.

he discussion carried on with brisk efficiency, both sides exchanging ideas and ironing out details. Adam spoke when needed, keeping his tone measured and his demeanor calm, though his pulse raced every time Lilith addressed him directly. She was polite, her questions thoughtful, her praise sparse but genuine. They were professionals—nothing more, nothing less.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Adam didn’t linger.

The moment he had a chance, he slipped out of the room, his steps quick and purposeful. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to get away. Away from the conference room, away from Lilith, away from the unbearable knot tightening in his chest.

He found himself on the bottom floor of the studio, where the air was cooler and quieter. A private booth in the corner caught his eye, its small table and cushioned bench tucked away from prying eyes. Adam slid inside and collapsed onto the seat, his elbows hitting the table as he buried his head in his arms.

A groan escaped him, muffled by his sleeves.

Everything was a mess.

Seeing Lilith again had reopened wounds he hadn’t realized were still raw. Her presence alone had stirred up memories of a time when things were simpler, when their lives had been intertwined in ways that felt unbreakable. And yet, here they were—strangers in a professional setting, pretending the past didn’t exist.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. He was still reeling from the truth about Lucifer, from the lies and betrayals that had fractured everything he thought he knew. And now Lilith—beautiful, powerful, untouchable Lilith—had reappeared like a ghost from another life.

Adam clenched his fists, his knuckles pressing into the soft leather of the booth. He felt unmoored, as though the ground beneath him had shifted and he was scrambling to find his footing.

For a moment, he allowed himself to stay like that, head down, shoulders hunched, letting the weight of it all press down on him. He needed this—needed to feel the full extent of his frustration and confusion, to let it crash over him before he could even think about facing the world again.

And then, slowly, he exhaled.

Adam sat in the quiet booth, his head still resting on his crossed arms. His thoughts swirled like storm clouds, the weight of everything pressing down on him. The faint hum of the studio equipment in the background was soothing, but it wasn’t enough to untangle the mess inside his head.

A soft sound—a shuffle of footsteps—caught his attention. He didn’t look up, assuming it was someone passing by. But then a voice broke the silence.

“Adam,” Lilith said, her tone soft but tinged with amusement. “I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”

Adam’s head shot up, his cheeks flushing slightly as he straightened in his seat.

“Lilith,” he stammered, glancing around as if to gather himself. “It wasn’t you. I mean—well, it was you, but not like that.”

He exhaled sharply, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I was just surprised to see you again after all this time.”

Lilith smiled faintly, her expression gentler than he remembered.

“It was nice to see you again,” she admitted, her blue eyes watching him carefully. “I’m not sure if you feel the same, but... I always saw you as a friend, Adam.”

Adam hesitated, his throat tightening at her honesty. He gave a small, crooked smile. “You were a friend, Lilith. I mean, we were... close, once.”

“Yeah,” she murmured. Her gaze flickered down for a moment before she slid into the booth across from him. “I wanted to say I’m sorry—for how things ended between us back then.”

Adam blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Lilith was quiet for a beat, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of the table. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer now. “It was never my intention to lead you on. I was young and stupid. I didn’t realize how much you liked me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I thought... if I ignored it, it would go away.”

 Her lips curled into a small, self-deprecating smile. “I guess I was right. It did go away. But so did our friendship, and that... that’s on me.”

Adam blinked again, surprised by her candour. He rubbed the back of his neck, offering a crooked smile. “Lilith, it wasn’t your fault. It was just... a little crush. I got over it pretty fast.”

Lilith’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though trying to gauge his sincerity. But then she let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if I believe that, but thank you for saying it.”

The tension between them eased, their conversation flowing more naturally as they reminisced. They laughed about being lab partners in school, recalling the time they accidentally set a beaker on fire during an experiment.

“Honestly, you were the top student,” Adam said with a grin, leaning back in his seat. “I admired you so much. I wanted to be like you—smart, confident, always knowing exactly what you wanted.”

Lilith laughed, her voice bright and genuine. “And I wanted to be carefree like you. You didn’t care what people thought. You just... existed, completely comfortable in your own skin.”

They both laughed, but the sound petered out as Adam let out a soft sigh, his head lowering slightly.

Lilith tilted her head, her brow furrowing.

“How are things with you and Lucifer?” she asked carefully.

Adam’s face twisted into a grimace before he could stop himself. He glanced to the side, debating how much to say. Could he tell her? Did she already know?

“Is it that bad?” Lilith pressed gently.

Adam hesitated, then met her gaze. “Lilith, if you knew...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

She surprised him by giving a sad chuckle, her eyes distant. “I already know, Adam.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lilith leaned back against the booth, exhaling deeply. Her confident veneer cracked, revealing something more vulnerable beneath. “I knew from the start that Lucifer wasn’t into me the way I was into him. I could tell.”

Adam stared at her, stunned. “Then why...?”

“Why did I stay?” Lilith gave him a small, rueful smile. “Because I was young and stupid. I thought I could change him, make him like me even a little. But he never did.”

Her voice was steady, but Adam could hear the ache beneath her words. “No matter what I did, he just seemed... distant. Bored. It hurt, but I couldn’t accept failure. It felt like an insult to my alpha nature, you know? To admit defeat. So, I kept trying, kept pushing.”

She paused, her gaze distant, as if looking into the past. “I think I knew it was a lost cause when I brought up the idea of spending his heat together. He looked at me like I’d suggested something disgusting.”

Adam winced, his heart twisting. “Lilith...”

She gave a sad chuckle, her fingers brushing a strand of golden hair from her face. “He was never cruel, never outright mean. He just tolerated me. And back then, that was enough. I wanted him, even if he didn’t want me.”

Lilith leaned back in her seat, her gaze dropping to the table as her fingers ran absently over the edge. Her expression softened, her confident exterior peeling away to reveal a deep vulnerability that Adam hadn’t seen before.

“I really wanted him to be the one,” she said, her voice low, as if the admission itself was painful. “Lucifer, I mean. I convinced myself that if I tried hard enough, if I pushed through the walls he put up, I could get him to see me. To really see me.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her blue eyes glistening. “But looking back, it’s so obvious. He was only ever ‘nice’ to me because of you.”

Adam’s brow furrowed, his heart twisting. “Lilith, I’m sure that’s not true,” he said gently. “Lucifer must have had some feelings for you. He had to.”

Lilith snorted, the sound bitter and filled with disbelief. “Adam, I know it’s not true. Trust me.”

The certainty in her voice sent a flicker of unease through Adam, and his confusion deepened. “Why do you say that?”

She breathed in deeply, her shoulders rising and falling before she leaned forward, her piercing gaze locking onto his. “Because of you, Adam. You and Lucifer… you were always connected at the hip. I could never find one of you without the other. Wherever you went, he followed. It was like you were his North Star.”

Adam blinked, his stomach knotting at the weight of her words. Lilith hesitated, searching his expression as if gauging his readiness to hear what she was about to say. Finally, she spoke softly, her voice almost apologetic.

“Lucifer was in love with you.”

The words hit Adam like a blow, leaving him stunned. He blinked furiously, his eyes widening as if he had misheard her. “What?”

Lilith smiled pitifully, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of understanding and sadness. “He was, Adam. From the moment I met him, it was obvious. He always looked at you. Always cared about you, your feelings, your opinions. And when you started pulling away from us… he blamed me for it. I could see it in the way he looked at me.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but Lilith held up a hand to stop him. “

Before you say anything, just listen,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “I saw what happened between the two of you a few years ago. With your ex. I saw how you fought, how angry you were. But Adam, I don’t think that’s the whole story. There has to be more to it.”

Adam’s jaw tightened, his mind instantly recalling Lucifer’s words about Eve “trying to fix him.” The memory made his chest ache, but he forced himself to remain silent as Lilith continued.

“I’m not saying what happened was okay,” she said carefully. “But what I saw… what I witnessed from Lucifer—how much he adored you, how much he loves you—there’s no way he would have done something like that without a reason. I don’t know what kind of person your ex was, but I do know Lucifer. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt you. He loves you, Adam. He still does.”

Adam’s lips twitched, his gaze dropping to the table. His chest felt tight, his emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process everything she was telling him.

Lilith reached forward, her hand resting lightly on his. “Adam…You’ve never seen him the way I have. Every time I see him at the bonfires, he’s always looking for you. And when he finds you? He doesn’t look away. Not once.”

Adam puffed out his cheeks, trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “He… he made out with Steve,” he muttered weakly.

Lilith’s expression darkened, her voice sharpening. “Steve? Oh, Adam, please tell me you weren’t seriously considering that—that moron!”

Adam flinched at her raised voice, his cheeks flushing. “I—I mean… well…”

Lilith crossed her arms, her disapproving glare cutting through him like a knife. “Adam, Steve is nothing but a disgusting, vile jerk. He beds omegas at every bonfire with the promise of mating, only to toss them aside the next morning. Please tell me you aren’t in contact with him.”

Adam shook his head hastily, his voice rising in defence. “No, no, of course not! I was just… desperate, Lilith. I just wanted…”

His voice cracked slightly, and he looked down, his shoulders sagging. “I just wanted to be wanted. To be loved and cherished.”

Lilith’s gaze softened, the fire in her eyes dimming. She squeezed his hand gently. “

“Oh, Adam,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet affection. “But you already are.”

Adam looked up at her, startled by the sincerity in her words. For a moment, they simply sat there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the space between them. Lilith’s touch was steady, grounding him, and in that moment, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Adam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, squirming like a cornered animal. His arms crossed over his chest as if bracing himself against Lilith’s steady gaze.

“But…” he began hesitantly, his voice trailing off before he let out a soft sigh. “He is an omega. We’re omegas.”

Lilith blinked, her brow furrowing slightly. “And is that a problem for you, Adam?”

He whined softly, the sound escaping unbidden as he closed his eyes briefly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head with a firmness that didn’t match the uncertainty flickering in his expression. “No, it’s not a problem. Being an omega doesn’t define me.”

Lilith’s lips quirked into a small smile, but she stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I’ve never let it hold me back,” Adam continued, his voice growing more resolute. “Whenever I wanted something, I went for it. Grabbed it by the horns and climbed on board.”

He paused, his eyes dropping to the table. “Except with love, that is.”

Lilith made a face at that, her expression hovering between amusement and exasperation.

Adam quickly waved his hands as if to backtrack. “I mean… I didn’t know Lucifer was in love with me!”

Her laughter was light but teasing. “It was so obvious. How could you not?”

Adam huffed and sank back into the plush cushions, his arms tightening around himself defensively. “I don’t know. It just… wasn’t obvious to me.”

Lilith chuckled again, shaking her head. “You must be what people call dense.”

Adam pouted, his gaze sliding off to the side as he sank deeper into his thoughts. The room grew quiet save for the faint hum of distant studio chatter.

After a long moment, Adam whispered, almost to himself, “Everything was Lucifer’s fault.”

Lilith’s smile faded, her expression becoming patient as she leaned in slightly, waiting for him to elaborate.

Adam bit his bottom lip, his brows drawing together as if wrestling with his words. “He… he went after you because I told him I was developing a crush on you.”

His voice trembled slightly, but he pressed on. “Then he went after Lute because, again, I told him I liked her. And then with Eve…”

Lilith’s eyes flickered, a hint of understanding crossing her face. “It was a game to him.”

Adam gasped softly, his eyes snapping to hers in surprise. “

That’s right,” he said, his voice rising with realization. “He said he turned it into a game.”

Lilith nodded thoughtfully. “To keep people away from you.”

Adam’s shoulders sagged, a deep sigh falling from his lips. “Yes. He—he…”

He hesitated, his hands twisting in his lap. “Eve was different, though. Different from you and Lute. Eve was…”

Lilith interjected gently, her tone delicate and careful. “Eve made it to a place neither I nor Lute ever could. In Lucifer’s eyes, she did something he thought was impossible. She became your girlfriend. That made her a threat.”

Adam grimaced, her words cutting too close to the truth.

“That’s what he said,” he admitted reluctantly. “I mean… he hasn’t told me much outright. Most of it, I’ve had to figure out myself. But…”

“Lucifer must have been scared,” Lilith said softly. “Eve was your girlfriend. She had the potential to take you away from him. So, he did what he thought he had to do to keep you.”

Adam’s expression twisted, a mix of frustration and bitterness.

“I’m not a toy,” he grunted, the words carrying the weight of years of pent-up resentment.

Lilith reached out again, her hand brushing his lightly. “I know. I’m just trying to see it from Lucifer’s perspective. But Adam…”

She hesitated, her voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “If you really want to understand what he was thinking, you’ll have to talk to him.”

Adam frowned, his lips pulling down as his gaze dropped to the table.

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted, his voice breaking just slightly.

Lilith’s hand tightened over his, her expression full of warmth and encouragement. “Of course, you can. It was just the two of you for so long. You’re the only one who can make sense of this with him, Adam.”

Her words hung between them, heavy with truth, and for a moment, Adam couldn’t meet her eyes. Finally, he let out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Lilith smiled gently, her hand still resting over his. “Start with the truth, Adam. It’s all you’ve ever needed with him.”

The sky roared as lightning forked across the dark expanse, illuminating the rain that fell in relentless sheets. Adam cursed under his breath, his teeth clenched against the chill seeping through his jacket. He should have grabbed an umbrella—he knew better. It was late summer, and the city’s winters always came early, bringing dreary storms that crept into every corner. His fingers tightened around his shoulder bag, pressing it protectively against his chest as he hurried along the slick pavement.

By the time he reached the building block, his lungs burned, and water dripped from his hair into his eyes. He shoved the door open, panting as the warmth of the lounge greeted him. He barely had time to savor the reprieve before he froze, his breath catching painfully in his throat.

Lucifer.

Adam blinked, sure for a moment that the storm or his exhaustion had conjured a phantom. But no—the blonde omega was there, sitting cross-legged on the floor outside Adam’s flat. Rain had plastered his hair to his pale, angular face, and his hoodie hung limply around him like a sodden, tattered shield. His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, as if trying to make himself smaller, less visible.

Adam’s heart clenched, an unwelcome ache blooming in his chest. Don’t. He swallowed hard, forcing his feet to move forward. His wet shoes squeaked against the polished floor as he approached the flat. Lucifer’s head tilted up, his blue eyes locking onto Adam’s with a raw, silent plea that hit like a punch to the gut.

Adam refused to falter. He clenched his jaw, focusing on the lock and twisting his key with deliberate precision.

Lucifer stirred behind him, his lips parting as though to speak, but no words came. Instead, he bit down, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, his face crumpling into something too vulnerable, too desperate for Adam to bear.

Adam shoved the door open and stepped through, forcing himself to keep walking despite the way Lucifer’s gaze lingered on his back like a physical weight. The door clicked shut behind him, and he leaned against it, his breath coming out in a shaky groan.

“What the fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, running both hands over his face. His fingers dragged against the damp skin, the motion doing nothing to soothe the turmoil churning inside him.

He pressed his palms against the door as if it could shield him from the storm outside—and the one waiting just beyond the threshold. Lucifer. Sitting there, looking like the ghost of every regret Adam had tried to bury. Looking lost.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, the ache in his chest deepening. He hated how his mind betrayed him, replaying every moment they’d shared—the laughter, the fights, the stolen glances. And now this... Whatever this was.

He paced the room, dripping water onto the worn carpet as his thoughts twisted into a tangled mess. What did Lucifer want? Why now? Why him? The questions buzzed in his skull like static, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, they only grew louder.

Adam glanced at the door, his hand instinctively lifting toward the handle before he stopped himself. No. He couldn’t open it. He couldn’t face Lucifer—not like this.

But the memory of those blue eyes refused to fade. Eyes that had once sparkled with mischief, that had warmed with affection. Now, they were hollowed out, ringed with shadows and begging for something Adam wasn’t sure he could give.

He let out a frustrated growl, raking his fingers through his hair.

“What the fuck are you doing, Lucifer?” he muttered, his voice low and pained.

The storm outside rumbled again, the sound rattling the windowpanes as if demanding an answer Adam didn’t have. He sank onto the edge of his couch, his head dropping into his hands. He didn’t know how to fix this—didn’t know if he wanted to fix this.

All he knew was that Lucifer was still out there. Waiting.

And Adam wasn’t sure how long he could leave him in the cold.

Adam pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the dull thrum of his heartbeat under his damp shirt.

“Maybe tomorrow will be better,” he muttered to himself, voice soft and uncertain. Surely, Lucifer wouldn’t stay out there much longer. Surely, he’d go home, find some semblance of sense, and leave Adam to his carefully constructed chaos.

With that fragile hope, Adam forced himself to undress, dry off, and collapse into bed. The storm raged outside, its relentless rhythm lulling him into a fitful sleep. But the morning brought no reprieve.

Lucifer was still there.

Every morning, Adam cracked his door open to find those familiar blue eyes staring at nothing, his figure huddled on the floor like a sentinel waiting for orders. Every evening, Adam returned home to see the same sight: Lucifer, sitting as though his entire world revolved around that cold, unyielding hallway. The routine became a knot in Adam’s stomach, tightening with every passing day.

He tried to focus on his life. Work, therapy, doctor’s visits, and medication became the cornerstones of his survival. But even as he poured his energy into moving forward, Lucifer’s presence loomed in the back of his mind. The omega didn’t speak, didn’t plead, didn’t move. He was just there, an echo of something Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to remember. And yet, every glance at him chipped away at Adam’s resolve.

Almost a month passed. Adam kept waiting for the moment Lucifer would finally give up and leave. He wanted it to happen. He needed it to happen. But when it didn’t, when Lucifer’s silent vigil stretched on, Adam found himself caught in an unbearable limbo.

Then one day, everything changed.

Adam jogged home, his bag slung over one shoulder and his breath fogging the chilly air. But when he reached his floor, he froze. The space outside his flat was empty.

No Lucifer.

His heart stuttered, a cold sweat prickling along his spine. His legs trembled beneath him as he scanned the hallway, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite name. Panic? Guilt? Both?

Adam clutched his bag tightly, his fingers digging into the worn leather as his gaze darted down the corridor.

“Lucifer?” he called, his voice echoing off the silent walls. Nothing. No answer.

He fumbled for his phone, swiping it open with a shaking hand even though he knew it was pointless. Lucifer didn’t have his new number; Adam had made sure of that. Still, the empty screen staring back at him felt like a slap. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing.

His shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes against the sting of disappointment. He shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. But the emptiness outside his door felt heavier than Lucifer’s silent presence ever had.

“Maybe he didn’t care as much as he claimed,” Adam muttered bitterly, his voice low and wavering. He clicked his tongue, forcing his emotions down as he unlocked his flat and stepped inside. Slamming the door behind him, he grunted, “Good. Better this way.”

But the following week was anything but better.

The silence was unbearable. The emptiness gnawed at him, a strange, dull ache that he couldn’t shake. The hallway felt colder, the evenings quieter, and the walls of his flat pressed in closer with each passing day. Adam tried to convince himself that this was what he wanted. That Lucifer’s absence was a relief.

It wasn’t.

He missed him. It was absurd and maddening, but Adam couldn’t help it. He found himself lingering at his door in the mornings, half-expecting to see a familiar blond figure huddled on the floor. When he returned in the evenings, his steps slowed, his heart sinking with the realization that Lucifer wasn’t there.

Adam didn’t know how to explain the void Lucifer had left behind. Anger and sadness warred within him, tangled with something softer, something dangerously close to longing. And he hated himself for it.

One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in muted golds and greys, Adam stood in his kitchen, staring out the window. His dinner sat untouched on the counter behind him. He didn’t have the appetite. His mind was elsewhere, circling back to the same thought over and over again.

Where was Lucifer?

And why did it feel like a piece of Adam had vanished along with him?

The warm scent of cinnamon and fresh bread wrapped around Adam like a comforting blanket as he stepped into his family home. He barely had time to close the door before his mama appeared, her face lighting up in pure joy.

"Adam!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, my baby! You’re here! Look at you—are you eating well? You’re not too thin, are you? Oh, your cheeks look a little hollow. Are you getting enough sleep? How’s work? How’s therapy going? Oh, and the bonfire last month—how was that?"

“Mama—” Adam tried to interject, but she was already dragging him toward the cozy kitchen, her questions coming faster than he could keep up.

“Are you drinking enough water? You are drinking water, right? And those pills the doctor gave you—are they helping? Do they make you feel okay? Not too groggy? Oh, Adam, you’ve been working too hard, haven’t you? You’re always working. Do you have time for yourself? Are you—"

“Mama!” Adam laughed, finally managing to get a word in edgewise. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “One question at a time, please. And yes, I’m fine. I promise.”

She stepped back, narrowing her eyes at him like she didn’t quite believe him, but her smile never faltered. “Good. Now, sit down. You look tired, and I’ll make you some tea.”

Adam didn’t argue. He sank into one of the cushioned kitchen chairs, letting himself relax as his mama bustled about, her presence filling the room with warmth and energy. Moments like these reminded him of how much he missed her, of how easy it was to fall into the comforting rhythms of home.

As they sipped tea together, her questions slowed, turning softer. The conversation drifted naturally, and soon they were talking about his father.

“When did you know you loved him?” Adam asked quietly, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in his hands.

His mama’s face softened, her eyes glistening with a mixture of joy and nostalgia. “Oh, I knew from the moment I met him. Your father… he was special. Not because he was a beta, but because of who he was. He had the gentlest soul, Adam. He was patient, kind, and always so thoughtful. When he looked at me, I felt seen. Truly seen.”

Adam smiled faintly, his chest aching with a bittersweet warmth.

“I barely remember him now,” he admitted, glancing at the photograph hanging on the wall. His father’s warm smile stared back at him, a man forever frozen in time.

His mama’s hand covered his, her touch firm yet tender.

“You were so young when we lost him,” she murmured. “It’s okay if the memories are fuzzy. But Adam, I want you to know this—your father loved you more than anything in this world. He would be so proud of you. No matter what.”

Adam’s throat tightened, and he nodded, unable to find the right words. He looked back at the photograph, his mind swirling with questions.

“Mama,” he began hesitantly, “was Dad being a beta ever… a problem for you?”

She blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh. “For me? Never. Not for a single moment.”

“Your father was the kindest man I’d ever met. He never pushed boundaries, never made me feel less than. But…” Her voice trailed off, her smile fading slightly.

“But?” Adam pressed, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

She sighed, her gaze drifting to the photograph as well. “Your grandparents on my side… they disapproved. Things were different back then, Adam. Anything out of the ordinary was seen as unacceptable. Unthinkable. They wanted me to marry an alpha, and when I refused, they disowned me. They cut off all contact when I married your father.”

Adam swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of his mug.

“I didn’t know that,” he said softly.

“It wasn’t your burden to carry,” his mama said gently, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “But it was worth it. Every hardship, every struggle. Your father was worth it, and so are you.”

He stared at her for a moment, her unwavering love and strength making his chest ache.

“Mama,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “What if—”

He stopped, taking a deep breath. “What if the person you love… what if it feels impossible?”

Her brows furrowed in concern. “Adam, what’s this about?”

He hesitated, his lips parting and closing as he struggled to find the words. Finally, he blurted out, “Lucifer told me he loves me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His mama’s expression shifted, her eyes widening briefly before softening with understanding.

“Lucifer,” she repeated, her tone careful.

Adam nodded, his voice quieter now. “He said… he’s been in love with me since we were kids.”

Her eyes searched his face, as if trying to piece together his thoughts.

“And how do you feel about that?” she asked gently.

Adam let out a shaky laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I— I mean, it’s Lucifer. He’s…”

He paused, his throat tightening. “He’s always been there. Always. But this? I didn’t see it coming. Not like this.”

His mama reached out, cupping his face with both hands.

“Adam,” she said softly, her eyes brimming with warmth, “Sometimes love comes in ways we don’t expect. That doesn’t make it any less real. If you need time to figure out how you feel, take it. But don’t shut him out just because it’s scary.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “It’s not just scary, Mama. It’s everything. It’s him.”

“And maybe,” she said, her voice filled with quiet conviction, “That’s exactly why it’s worth it.”

Adam squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don’t know what to think, Mama. I don’t know what to feel. Lucifer was—he is—everything to me. My best friend, my other half. We were always together, from the time we were kids. We shared a bloody nest, for goodness’ sake."

He let out a shaky laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I never thought… I never thought he’d be interested in me. I always thought…"

His voice trailed off, the words caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. He stared at the table, his brows knitted together as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I don’t even know what I thought anymore," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

His mama reached across the table and gently placed her hand on his arm, grounding him. "Take your time, sweetheart. I’m listening."

Adam nodded, biting his lip as he lowered his gaze. "Lucifer… Mama, he’s done some bad things. Some really bad things."

The weight of those words pressed down on him, and he felt the familiar ache in his chest as guilt and anger swirled together. He barely noticed the way his mama’s expression softened, her thumb brushing soothingly against his forearm.

"Are these bad things the reason you fell out?" she asked quietly, her voice as gentle as a whisper.

Adam winced, his heart twisting painfully. He looked up at her, his eyes wide and anxious, like a child caught in the storm of his own emotions.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of the confession.

His mama’s lips curved into a pained smile, her eyes brimming with understanding and sorrow. "I knew something had happened between the two of you," she said, her tone steady and warm. "I just wish you’d told me earlier."

Adam made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, his hands gripping the edge of the table.

"But Mama," he said, his voice rising with desperation, "I barely knew the whole story myself. Lucifer’s only just started telling me… more. More of the story, I mean. Things I didn’t even know."

She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving his face.

"You don’t have to tell me what Lucifer did," she said softly. "I can see in your eyes that you don’t want to. But… is it something unforgivable?"

Adam opened his mouth to answer but then closed it again, his expression crumpling under the weight of the question. His voice, when it finally came, was barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he said, his throat tight. "Yes, it’s unforgivable. But…"

He paused, his hands trembling slightly as he looked down at the table, unable to meet her eyes. "But it’s Lucifer at the same time. It’s Lucifer, Mama. He’s the one who did this, who hurt me. But he’s also…"

His voice cracked, and he dragged a hand down his face, trying to keep his composure. "He’s my Luci. He’s the one who’s always been there for me. The one who—who made me laugh when I didn’t want to. The one who stayed with me through everything. And now he’s done these terrible things, and I just—"

His voice broke completely, and he pressed a hand over his chest, as if trying to steady the storm brewing inside him. "I don’t know how to make sense of it. How to make sense of him."

His mama’s hand moved from his arm to his cheek, cupping it gently. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her voice remained calm and steady.

"Oh, Adam," she said, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "Love is messy. People are messy. Sometimes, the people we love the most are the ones who hurt us the deepest."

Adam closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like he had when he was a child seeking comfort after a bad dream.

"What do I do, Mama?" he whispered. "How do I forgive him for something I don’t think I can ever forget?"

She was silent for a moment, her gaze searching his face as if looking for the right words. Finally, she spoke. "You take your time, Adam. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean excusing what he did. But if you decide you want him in your life, you’ll have to decide if you can move forward together, scars and all. And if you can’t…"

Her voice faltered, but she pressed on. "If you can’t, that’s okay too. You deserve love, my son. The kind that lifts you up, not one that tears you down."

Adam opened his eyes, staring at her as her words sank in. He nodded slowly, though the ache in his chest didn’t lessen.

"I don’t know if I can let him go," he admitted softly. "I don’t think I want to."

She smiled faintly, her thumb brushing away a tear he hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Then don’t," she said simply. "Not yet, at least. Let yourself figure it out. One step at a time."

Adam swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go away.

"One step at a time," he echoed, his voice trembling.

His mama pulled him into a warm hug, holding him close like she had when he was a little boy. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Adam let himself lean into her embrace, letting her strength and warmth carry him through the storm of his thoughts.

Adam meandered his way back home, his steps lighter, a faint smile lingering after his heart-to-heart with his mama. For the first time in weeks, the weight on his shoulders seemed to ease. He glanced up at the overcast sky, the faint hum of a tune escaping his lips. His expression soured when the sky answered him with a crackle of thunder. Of course. Rain again.

He rolled his green eyes and quickened his pace, muttering under his breath as the first drops splattered onto the pavement. By the time he reached the doors of his apartment building, the rain had turned into a full-fledged downpour. He barely managed to slip inside before getting completely drenched, shaking off the water clinging to his jacket as he climbed the stairs. His footsteps echoed in the narrow stairwell, the sound comforting in its familiarity.

But when he reached his floor, he froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat.

Lucifer was there.

Adam’s green eyes widened as they took in the sight of him. The same spot, the same posture. But something was different—worse. Lucifer looked... thinner, frailer, as if the weight of the world had been crushing him. His hoodie, worn and stretched out, clung damply to his frame, and his ripped jeans looked even more threadbare than before. He was curled up against the wall, knees to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. His head was buried against his knees, his golden hair damp and sticking to his neck.

Adam’s brows furrowed deeply. He could feel the worry churning in his gut, a sick twist of guilt and frustration mingling as he approached. But Lucifer didn’t move. Not a twitch. Even as Adam passed within arm’s reach, Lucifer remained eerily still, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Adam stopped at his door, biting the inside of his cheek. His fingers fumbled with his keys, his eyes flicking back to the fragile figure huddled by the wall. He couldn’t ignore the gnawing sensation in his chest—worry, anger, pity—it all tangled together, making his hands shake as he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stood on the threshold, staring into the comforting warmth of his flat.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his back to Lucifer, gripping the doorknob tightly enough to make his knuckles ache. He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes upward as if the heavens owed him an answer.

"Lucifer," he barked suddenly, his voice sharp and cutting through the quiet like a whip.

He heard the subtle hitch in Lucifer’s breathing behind him, saw the faint tremor ripple through the blonde's shoulders. Lucifer didn’t lift his head, but Adam could tell he was listening.

"Make sure to lock the door behind you," Adam said, his tone clipped as he stepped into his flat. He shrugged off his coat, letting it fall haphazardly onto a nearby chair.

Lucifer’s head snapped up, his blue eyes wide and startled as they flicked toward Adam’s back. He didn’t move at first, frozen in disbelief.

"Well?" Adam bit out, glaring over his shoulder at the empty doorway. "Are you coming in or not?"

That broke whatever hesitation Lucifer had. He scrambled to his feet, unsteady but quick, and shuffled inside. His movements were hesitant, almost timid, as if he feared Adam might change his mind and shut the door in his face. He lingered in the entryway, his fingers brushing nervously against the doorframe, eyes darting around the flat like a skittish animal.

"Take off your shoes!" Adam snapped, not bothering to look at him as he kicked his own sneakers toward the corner. "I don’t want you tracking dirt everywhere."

Lucifer jumped, immediately bending down to untie his worn sneakers. He placed them neatly beside Adam’s, his trembling hands carefully aligning them before he turned and locked the door. His fingers hovered over the locks for a moment, brushing them as if to make sure they were secured.

Adam sighed as the door clicked shut behind Lucifer, the sound echoing in the quiet of his flat. He hung his coat on the hook by the door and ran a hand through his damp hair, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lucifer lingered awkwardly near the entrance. The blonde omega looked so small, almost like a ghost of the person Adam had grown up with. His hoodie hung off his thin frame, the fabric frayed and damp from days of sitting out in the elements.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Adam snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He turned to face Lucifer fully, his green eyes narrowed. "If you're going to be here, you might as well make yourself useful. Go sit on the couch or something."

Lucifer flinched but nodded, his movements hesitant and sluggish as he shuffled toward the couch. His knees wobbled slightly, and Adam felt his stomach twist at how frail the other omega seemed. Lucifer perched on the edge of the sofa, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his eyes fixed on the floor like he didn’t belong.

Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Do you want some tea?" he asked, his voice softer now. He was already moving toward the kitchen before Lucifer could answer, pulling out a kettle and filling it with water.

"I..." Lucifer’s voice was barely audible, trembling and small. "Yes, please. Thank you."

Adam nodded but didn’t look back. The sound of the kettle filling with water drowned out the nagging thoughts that swirled in his head. He busied himself with preparing the tea, pulling out two mismatched mugs and a box of chamomile. As he waited for the water to boil, he stole a glance over his shoulder.

Lucifer hadn’t moved. He was still sitting there, his shoulders hunched and his head down, as if trying to make himself invisible.

"Why are you back here, Lucifer?" Adam asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Lucifer tensed, his head lifting slightly but not enough to meet Adam’s gaze.

"I... I didn’t know where else to go," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I—I just needed to see you."

Adam’s hands clenched around the edge of the counter, his knuckles whitening.

"You’ve been sitting outside my flat for weeks," he said coldly. "Weeks, Lucifer. Do you even know how insane that is? How messed up it looks?"

Lucifer flinched again, his hands trembling in his lap.

"I didn’t mean to make you angry," he said quietly. "I just... I didn’t know how else to... to make things right."

Adam let out a hollow laugh, turning his attention back to the tea. "Right. Because sitting outside like some lost puppy was definitely going to fix everything."

He poured the steaming water into the mugs, the faint scent of chamomile filling the air. He placed a mug in front of Lucifer, who looked at it like he didn’t deserve it.

"Thank you," Lucifer murmured again, his voice hoarse. He wrapped his hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers.

Adam sat down across from him, his green eyes sharp and probing.

"Talk," he said firmly. "If you’re going to be here, if you’re going to invade my space like this, you’d better have something to say."

Lucifer looked up at him then, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "For everything. For hurting you. For... for being selfish. I thought—I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was push you away."

Adam’s jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You did more than push me away, Luci," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "You broke me. You made me question everything—who I was, who you were. And now you’re here, sitting on my couch like... like you think an apology will fix it all."

"I don’t think that," Lucifer said quickly, his voice desperate. "I don’t. I just... I just wanted a chance to explain. To tell you the truth. And to tell you that I... I love you, Adam..."

The words hung heavy in the air between them, and Adam felt his chest tighten. He looked away, staring at the wall as a thousand memories flooded his mind—nights spent laughing, fights that left them both in tears, and the overwhelming pain of betrayal.

"I don’t know if I can forgive you," Adam said finally, his voice breaking. "I don’t know if I want to."

Lucifer nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of Adam’s words.

"I understand," he said softly. "I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just... I needed you to know. And if this is the last time, I see you, then at least I’ll know I tried."

Adam stared at him, his heart aching in ways he didn’t think were possible. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them like a fragile thread.

"Finish your tea," he said quietly. "Then we’ll talk."

Lucifer blinked down at the steaming cup of tea, his trembling fingers curling around it. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing the rising vapor as he inhaled the sweet, warm scent.

“Apple, cinnamon, and raisin?” he murmured, his voice carrying a thread of surprise.

He glanced toward Adam with wide, uncertain eyes. “You still drink black tea?”

Adam shifted on his feet, his shoulders tensing as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, well... I guess some things haven’t changed much.”

Lucifer’s lips twitched, and for the briefest moment, a faint, trembling smile graced his pale, blue-tinged lips. He nodded silently and took a tentative sip from the cup, the warmth of the liquid contrasting with his cold hands.

Adam exhaled sharply, his damp hair falling into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. He sighed heavily, his voice emerging soft but filled with weariness as he finally spoke. “You’d better start talking, Luci. If you’re going to sit outside my door for weeks, looking like death warmed over, and then barge into my home, the least you can do is explain yourself.”

Lucifer’s head dipped slightly, his fingers tightening around the tea as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered.

“Not really barging in if you invite me in,” he muttered under his breath, his tone defensive but quiet. When Adam didn’t waver, his sharp green eyes boring into him, Lucifer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I...” His voice cracked, breaking into a whisper. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Adam frowned, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “What do you mean you had nowhere else to go? What about your house?”

Lucifer’s head snapped up at that, his wide, startled blue eyes locking onto Adam’s face. “You... you know I own a house?”

Adam flushed, shifting awkwardly. “I mean... I kept tabs on you. After everything. Just to... make sure you were okay.”

The admission hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Lucifer’s expression flickered between hope, sorrow, and something unspoken. His shoulders tensed, but then they sagged as though a weight had settled there.

“I lost the house,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Adam blinked, his brows knitting together in disbelief. “How’d you lose your house?”

Lucifer pinched his lips together, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “It’s hard to keep a house when you’re behind on mortgage payments,” he muttered bitterly.

Adam’s frown deepened. “What about your job? Last I heard, you were doing well in your family’s company—”

Lucifer flinched visibly at the words, his hands tightening around the tea as his body curled inward.

“Things with my family...” His voice wavered, and he trailed off, staring down into the tea as if it held the answers he couldn’t find. “They’ve only gotten worse since... since...”

“Luci.” Adam’s voice was sharper now, a mixture of concern and frustration. “Are... are you homeless?”

Lucifer stiffened, his gaze darting away as his lips pressed into a thin line. When he didn’t answer, Adam’s stomach dropped, and he stepped closer, lowering himself onto the couch beside Lucifer.

“How bad is everything?” Adam asked gently, his tone softening. It was the same tone he’d used years ago, back when comforting Lucifer had been second nature.

The effect was immediate. A shiver ran through Lucifer’s body, and a heavy wave of omega pheromones filled the room, thick with despair. Adam’s throat tightened at the sheer intensity of it, but he didn’t back away.

“Why didn’t you go to...” He hesitated, his words faltering. Why didn’t you come to me? The question hung, unspoken but weighty. “Why didn’t you go to my mama? You know she would’ve helped you.”

Lucifer shook his head slowly, his voice breaking as he replied. “I... I didn’t want to impose. I’ve already caused enough damage. I didn’t want... didn’t want to bring more problems into your family.”

Adam let out a frustrated breath, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to snap.

“You could have come to me, Luci,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer pitch. “I would’ve helped you.”

Lucifer’s head shot up, his blue eyes blazing with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You hated me.”

“I do not hate you,” Adam said firmly, his tone exasperated. “I was angry—furious—but hate? I could never hate you. If you’d come to me, I wouldn’t have turned you away. I would’ve...”

“Really?” Lucifer’s voice cracked, his expression breaking apart like fragile glass. His lips trembled, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You really would’ve helped me?”

Adam’s heart twisted painfully. He hadn’t seen Lucifer like this—so open, so raw—since they were teenagers. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Of course I would’ve. No matter what’s happened between us, I wouldn’t have let you suffer like this.”

The first tear slipped down Lucifer’s cheek, and he quickly scrubbed it away with the back of his hand. But the dam had broken, and he soon collapsed against Adam, shaking with quiet sobs.

“Addie, I’m so sorry. I—I really am,” he stammered, his voice muffled against Adam’s shoulder.

Adam hesitated, his body stiffening at first, but then he awkwardly wrapped an arm around Lucifer’s trembling form.

“Look, we’ll talk about everything later. But you have to promise me something.” He leaned back slightly, just enough to look Lucifer in the eyes. “You’re not lying about any of this. About your family, the house, all of it.”

Lucifer nodded fervently, his breath hitching as he wiped at his face. “I’m not lying. I swear, Addie. It’s all true. I—I can show you my phone. I have texts and calls from my family... proof...”

“Alright,” Adam murmured, his tone gentler now. “Alright, Luci. I believe you.”

But even as he said the words, a deep unease settled in his chest. Whatever had brought Lucifer to this point—it wasn’t going to be an easy road to fix it. And yet, as he held Lucifer close, Adam couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they could figure it out together.

The next morning came slowly, the soft grey light of dawn spilling into the small studio flat, muted by thick rainclouds lingering from the storm. Adam stirred first, blinking groggily at the ceiling. His body felt heavy, weighed down not just by sleep but by the emotional strain of the night before. He glanced toward the couch, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the small, curled figure of Lucifer, still buried beneath a mound of blankets.

Lucifer was motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. His face was partially hidden, but Adam could see faint streaks of dried tears on his cheeks. It made his stomach twist in ways he wasn’t ready to unpack.

With a sigh, Adam swung his legs over the edge of his bed and padded toward the kitchenette. His flat wasn’t much, but it was functional: a few cabinets, a stove, and enough counter space to make something simple. He set about preparing tea again, the ritual grounding him. The faint clink of the kettle seemed loud in the stillness, and Adam winced, glancing toward the couch. Lucifer didn’t stir.

Pouring the tea, Adam debated for a moment before grabbing a piece of toast from the breadbox. He smeared it lightly with jam, his movements slower than usual. His mind was elsewhere—on the weight of the air between them, on how they kept colliding like strangers last night when once they had moved seamlessly as one.

Adam approached the couch, placing the tea and toast on the small table nearby. He crouched slightly, his green eyes scanning Lucifer’s face.

"Luci," he said softly, his voice husky from sleep. "Wake up. You need to eat something."

Lucifer shifted beneath the blankets, a low whimper escaping his lips. Slowly, his blue eyes cracked open, unfocused and still rimmed red. He blinked up at Adam, confusion flickering across his face before he seemed to remember where he was.

"Morning," Adam said awkwardly, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out but stopped himself. "I made tea. And toast."

Lucifer nodded mutely, sitting up slowly. The blankets slipped from his shoulders, revealing the borrowed pyjamas that hung loosely on his too-thin frame. He accepted the tea, cradling it between his hands like it was the only source of warmth he had.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam watched him for a beat, his hands falling to his knees as he pushed himself upright. “I’ll make something more filling in a bit. Eggs or something. Just... eat that for now.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, turning toward the kitchen again. The space between them felt suffocating, each word like a small stone tossed into a vast, still lake.

As Adam fiddled with a frying pan, he couldn’t stop stealing glances over his shoulder. Lucifer sipped his tea but barely touched the toast, his movements sluggish and mechanical. It was maddening, this distance between them, when once they had been so attuned to each other.

The day dragged on like that. Small interactions, half-finished sentences, and lingering silences. Lucifer shuffled around the flat, bumping into Adam every time they crossed paths. Each time, he muttered a soft, barely audible “Sorry,” and each time, Adam waved it off with a tight-lipped nod, his frustration growing—not at Lucifer, but at how unnatural this all felt.

By the time evening came, Adam had managed to coax Lucifer into eating a proper meal, though it had taken more effort than he liked to admit. He set up the couch again, piling it high with the same blankets as the night before. But as he stood there, staring down at the makeshift bed, a sense of wrongness gnawed at him.

It wasn’t right. Lucifer didn’t belong on the couch. He belonged... Adam swallowed hard, turning away. He didn’t want to think about it. About how badly he wanted to pull Lucifer to his bed, to hold him close and whisper reassurances until the cracks in his heart began to mend. It wasn’t time for that. Not yet.

Instead, Adam climbed into his own bed, his body sinking into the familiar mattress. From where he lay, he could see Lucifer on the couch, his form barely visible beneath the pile of blankets. The proximity was a small comfort, enough to ease the tightness in his chest, but it wasn’t enough to stop the lingering ache.

“If... if you need me,” Adam began hesitantly, his voice cutting through the quiet. He trailed off, unsure of what to say, of how to reach out without tearing open old wounds.

Lucifer sniffled, curling tighter into the blankets. He didn’t reply. Adam pressed his lips together, his heart sinking as he realized that was answer enough. He turned onto his side, willing himself to relax, to sleep.

And then he heard it.

It was soft at first, muffled as if Lucifer was desperately trying to suppress it. But the sound grew, breaking through the silence: quiet, broken sobs. Adam froze, his breath catching in his throat. The sound was like a knife twisting in his chest, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Lucifer was crying. He was crying, and Adam hated it—hated how helpless it made him feel. His fingers curled into the sheets as he debated, his mind a whirlwind of indecision. But in the end, he stayed where he was, his back turned to the couch.

He told himself it was for the best. They both needed space, that it wasn’t the right time to push. But deep down, he knew the truth: he wasn’t ready either. Not to face the depth of Lucifer’s pain. Not to reopen the wounds he had spent years trying to close.

So, he lay there, his eyes burning as he stared at the wall, and listened as Lucifer cried himself to sleep.

Adam waited until Lucifer's breathing softened, a steady rhythm that signaled he was deep in sleep. The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting pale silver streaks across Lucifer's tear-streaked face. Adam's heart clenched at the sight. Lucifer had always been a fortress, stoic and unshakable. Yet tonight, that carefully constructed image had crumbled, leaving behind a raw, vulnerable man who wept silently into the shadows.

Sliding off the bed as quietly as he could, Adam crept toward the old red-and-orange hoodie tossed carelessly on the chair. His fingers brushed against the fraying fabric, a relic of better days, before digging into the pocket to retrieve Lucifer’s iPhone. Adam hesitated, his gaze darting to Lucifer. Even in sleep, his face was troubled, his brows slightly furrowed.

"I'm sorry," Adam whispered under his breath, clutching the phone tightly.

He tried the first passcode that came to mind—Lucifer's birthday. Incorrect. Christmas? No. The numbers Lucifer jokingly referred to as his "lucky ones"? Still no. Frustration bubbled as Adam rubbed his temple. He even tried his own birthday in a moment of desperation, but nothing worked. He was about to give up when, almost absentmindedly, he entered the date they had first officially met.

The screen unlocked with a soft click. Adam froze, his breath catching. He stared at the illuminated screen, blinking in disbelief. Of all the possible codes, Lucifer had chosen that day. A bittersweet pang echoed in Adam's chest as his gaze returned to the sleeping man.

"You sentimental fool," he muttered, but his words lacked bite.

His thumb hovered over the screen, unsure of where to start. Curiosity and concern warred within him, but something told Adam he needed to understand. He tapped on the messaging app, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

The first message was from Lucifer's father: "You are the greatest disappointment this family has ever endured. Not even fit to carry the Morningstar name."

Adam’s jaw tightened. He scrolled further.

"An omega who can’t even serve his purpose. What use are you to anyone?"

"You can’t provide. You can’t lead. You’re nothing but dead weight."

Message after message was a relentless barrage of cruelty. Words that stabbed like knives. Adam’s chest tightened painfully as he read them, his stomach twisting into knots.

Then came the emails. They were no better. His mother had written lengthy diatribes laced with venom, questioning Lucifer’s worth as a human being. She accused him of staining their lineage, called him poisonous, unworthy, a burden to be discarded.

Adam’s hands trembled as he read the final email, dated just days ago.

"You’ll never be loved, Lucifer. You are broken. Useless. A waste of space."

The screen blurred as Adam’s eyes burned with unshed tears. He lowered the phone to his lap, unable to read another word. His gaze fell to Lucifer, who lay curled up, his body tense even in sleep. How had he survived this? How had he carried the weight of such hatred, such rejection?

Adam’s legs gave way, and he sank to the floor, his knees hitting the hardwood with a dull thud. He could barely breathe. This wasn’t just cruelty; it was a calculated effort to break Lucifer, to strip him of any semblance of dignity or hope.

His voice cracked as he whispered, "Luci... how have you endured this? How could you go through all of this and still... still do those things to me?"

Adam reached out with trembling fingers, brushing the golden strands of Lucifer’s hair away from his face. He tenderly wiped away the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, his heart shattering with each gentle caress.

"You deserved so much more," Adam murmured, his voice breaking. "You deserved love, respect... everything they denied you…but you also did bad things too..”

His anger simmered beneath the surface, directed at the Morningstars and their unyielding, heartless expectations. An omega in a family of alphas—Lucifer had never stood a chance against their prejudice. And the sheer audacity of them demanding he mate with an older alpha, as though his entire worth depended on whom he married—it made Adam’s blood boil.

He cradled Lucifer’s face gently, his thumb tracing small circles on his cheek. "You are not poisonous. You are not broken. You are not unworthy," Adam whispered fiercely. "You are loved. Maybe not by them, but by…Always by…."

Lucifer stirred slightly, a faint whimper escaping his lips. Adam leaned closer, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple. He held him like he was made of glass, as though the sheer weight of his care could mend the shattered pieces of Lucifer's heart.

"I don’t know if I can forgive you for the things you’ve done but…but I’ll fight for you," Adam vowed softly, tears slipping down his own cheeks now. "Even if they won't, I will. Your family don’t deserve you.”

Lucifer sighed in his sleep, his body relaxing slightly as though he could feel Adam’s silent promise. Adam stayed there, his fingers tangled in golden hair, his heart beating with a fierce determination. He would protect Lucifer, no matter what.

[lisandra-phillips]

Adamsapple harvest is here!

Day 2: Pumpkins

[marthaluvsya]

Adamsapple Harvest at last, Gosh… yesterday was not the day to do it, so…Day 8: bondage

Bonus:

[junosartz]

day 4. sweaters. matching ones. lol.

[darkkone]

Well, here it's the end of October

[krshpdoinklestuf]

Day 15: Rainy Day💧☔️

[scruffyragdoll]

Adamsapple harvest

Day 6: Bonfire 🔥

[rius-cave]

Adamsapple Harvest Day 20: Possession uhhh, kinda lol

My secret power is stretching prompts so I can draw what I want dkfjdkgdf (I got permission from the event mod so I win :)

Beware, this one is very kinky and graphic lol Voodoo doll kink is so underrated

Twitter link for full!

[inubaki]

Scary Movies

Rosemary’s Baby, Devil and The Nun. All by pillow fort! Cause you are never to old to shove some chairs together and dragging out the largest family blankets. Followed by fortified pillows and spare blankets. All to enjoy the amazing-ness of a scary movie marathon. Based on ‘The Feather’ Au in which Adam resembles Pan. This is before the confrontation.

And thank you to anyone that threw in their two cents on what movies to use.

———

But seriously. These two. Stay away from me.

[adamsappleweek]

Welcome to AdamsApple Harvest!

This is a monthlong prompt fest celebrating the sweet and the spooky, with a little something for those who like a bit of spice 🎃🍎🎸🎃

Rules:

✨This is a SFW/NSFW event. 18+ only, please!

✨Prompts can be mixed and matched as you choose.

✨Any NSFW content must be properly tagged.

If you have any further questions, the ask box is always open!

Happy creating!

[lucifer-imaginaryfriend]

Adamsapple Harvest Day 4: Sweaters

(little early, just posting before I go to bed)

Nightmare Before Christmas themed! I added subtle hints and ideas in it- wonder if any of you can catch it 😉

[lisandra-phillips]

Adamsapple harvest

Day 12: Biting

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Breeding~

ahhhhhh!

i had so many different ideas for this! i couldn't not pick what i wanted to do! in the end i fell on this idea! it's creepy and i really liked how it came out! please let me know if you like it!

@adamsappleweek

Adam was late. The kind of late that tasted like dread in the back of his throat, the kind that twisted his stomach into knots. He glanced at his watch, and his heart stuttered as he realized that the last train home was slipping away. His footsteps echoed through the quiet, deserted corridors of the office building as he ran, each step ringing like a countdown. Adam’s coworker's warning played in his mind, a whispered caution, “Last train leaves at 11:30 sharp. If you miss it, there’s no other way out of the city." But he’d brushed it off, and now that warning seemed to curl into a cruel smirk at his expense.

Frustrated, Adam cursed his horrible time management. It was as if minutes had slipped through his fingers, stolen by some unseen hand. Twenty minutes ago, it had only been 10:30—or so he thought. He stumbled down the stairs, nearly losing his balance as he hit the last step, his worn-out sneakers slapping against the marble floor. He barely waved to the security guard, who barely glanced back at him. With a sharp intake of breath, Adam launched himself out of the doors into the biting cold.

Winter had hit the city with brutal force, leaving the ground slick with a thin layer of ice, glistening under the flickering streetlights. As Adam skidded around the corner, the frigid air seared his lungs. He knew it was dangerous to run on the ice, but he was desperate. The stakes were rising with each step he took. Just as he reached the train platform, his heart sank—the station was empty, the track silent, the last train nothing but a fading memory in the darkness.

He groaned, raking his hands through his hair, fingers catching in the tangled mess as he paced in growing panic. What was he supposed to do now? He was dead broke, barely surviving on his entry-level salary, clinging to the hope that his first pay check might just cover next month’s rent. Spending a night in a hotel wasn’t an option. The thought of begging the security guard to let him crash at his desk crossed his mind, but even that seemed bleak.

The wind howled around him, and he inhaled deeply, the icy air cutting into his throat, making him cough. The city stretched around him in shadowed silence, a mass of looming, pitch-black buildings that looked like watchful sentries in the gloom. He rubbed his arms against the cold, his skin prickling as he caught sight of his own reflection in the glass, pale and strained, his lips starting to turn blue. With no other options, he turned back toward the office, dragging his feet along the frost-slick pavement.

His sneakers slipped, skidding over the ice, and he flailed, his arms flying out to catch his balance. His hand hit the cold, rough edge of a nearby building, but not before his cheek grazed painfully against the brick. He sucked in a sharp breath, his face stinging, and gingerly pressed his fingers to the scrape.

Maybe he should’ve watched his step more carefully. But then, just as he regained his footing, it happened.

The ground... vanished. One second, there was the familiar cold pavement beneath him, and in the next, he felt a sensation like sinking, like a bottomless darkness swallowing him whole. His vision blurred, a sickening spin that pulled him backward. It was as if the ground itself had split open, sucking him down like a trapdoor opening beneath his feet.

Adam fell, his scream snatched away by the void as he plunged into the darkness.

Adam’s head throbbed as he drifted back into consciousness, each heartbeat a dull, aching drum against his skull. A deep, unsettling fog seemed to settle over his thoughts as he tried to piece together where he was. His fingers brushed over the side of his face, feeling the tender, swollen skin where he must have hit it on his way down.

As his vision sharpened, he was struck by an overwhelming, suffocating sense of color—a relentless, nauseating yellow. Mustard yellow, all around him, pressing in from every side. He blinked, eyes stinging, adjusting to the oppressive brightness. Staring at the walls, he took in the faded, floral pattern etched into the wallpaper, an ugly, dated design that seemed to pulse in the eerie yellow light. The carpet beneath him was wet, squelching under his hand as he shifted, its dampness adding to the discomfort that clawed its way into his skin.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, every muscle aching as he steadied himself in this bizarre, empty room. One of the walls was missing, exposing him to what looked like an endless maze of more rooms just like the one he was in. Each one was a grotesque variation on the same theme: more floral wallpaper, more damp mustard-coloured carpet, more yellow ceiling panels lined with dangling, flickering light bulbs. They hung erratically from above, some buzzing, some eerily silent, casting a pale, sickly glow across the space that seemed to make the shadows tremble.

Adam’s eyes darted to the ceiling, hoping for some hint of the way he’d come, maybe a hole he’d fallen through, anything—but there was nothing. Just an unbroken expanse of yellow, no hint of the world above or any path back. Panic bubbled in his chest as he tried to swallow the dread curling inside him.

“Hello?” His voice cracked, trembling as he called out. “Is...is anyone there?”

The words seemed to fall flat, as if the very air swallowed them up, leaving no echo, no reverberation, nothing but a dead silence pressing against his ears. The stillness was so thick he could almost feel it clinging to him, suffocating him.

Heart pounding, Adam took a few hesitant steps forward, crossing from one yellow-stained room into another. The transition was seamless, only the strange, floral patterns on the walls shifting slightly, like variations on a dream he couldn’t quite wake up from. There were no doors, no windows—just the never-ending labyrinth of oddly shaped rooms with their damp floors and relentless yellow hue.

As he walked, the dampness of the carpet seeped through his shoes, cold and unpleasant. The stale, humid air clung to his skin, making it feel like the walls were breathing with him, the moisture seeping into his bones. His green eyes darted left and right, taking in the unnatural sterility of the space, the endless stretch of faded, dreary yellow that seemed to go on forever. With each step, the lights above him buzzed in a slow, menacing hum, casting his shadow in distorted shapes on the walls.

“Hello?” he tried again, his voice barely more than a whisper now.

The silence responded in kind—nothing. Not a single sound, not even the faintest creak or echo. It was as if he’d been dropped into a place where sound didn’t exist, where he could scream and scream, and still, no one would hear him.

Adam moved through the rooms, his mind a spinning reel of questions and terror as the bizarre maze unfolded around him. Each turn he took led him to more empty spaces, more cold, damp carpet beneath his feet, more walls without any sign of a way out. The rooms seemed to twist and connect at random angles, creating narrow hallways that funnelled him deeper and deeper into this strange mustard-yellow void.

Every fibre of his being screamed to turn back, to find an exit, but each direction was just more of the same—the dizzying, endless monotony of yellow walls and silent lights, draining him of hope with every step.

Adam muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper against the incessant buzzing hum overhead.

“Feels like the back of a retail outlet... like I’m about to walk into storage and see endless racks of unsorted stock.” The flickering lights above seemed to mock him, casting erratic shadows that made the rooms feel like they were shifting, breathing.

The buzzing was louder than any normal fluorescent hum he’d ever heard, an unyielding drone that drilled into his thoughts. Each bulb sputtered at irregular intervals, casting faint pulses of sickly yellow light across the faded walls. The wet carpet beneath his feet squished unpleasantly as he moved, the smell of mildew thickening in the air with each step. He instinctively avoided touching the strange dampness—it didn’t feel or smell like water, and something about it sent a quiet warning up his spine.

Yet as he continued deeper, oddly, he felt his initial panic start to wane. The quiet emptiness around him held an unexpected calm; it was eerie, yes, but also strangely still, like the endless maze posed no direct threat. A dark realization settled over him: there might be no immediate danger here, no lurking menace—only the creeping terror of isolation. He could survive here for a while, but the silence, the hunger, the solitude—that would be his downfall.

Then he noticed it. In the corner of an otherwise empty room sat a silver suitcase, its metallic sheen a stark contrast to the yellowed walls. Adam’s stomach twisted as he approached, his steps slower, warier. He crouched down, fingers grazing the cold metal as he peered inside.

A single file lay within, aged and smelling faintly of must, as if it had been sitting there, undisturbed, for years. Glancing around once more, he saw no one. He picked up the file, its weight oddly reassuring in his hands, and unclipped the two greyish sheets inside. They appeared official, the type of documents you’d expect from a government office. He squinted at the title at the top: “Level Zero.”

The first page detailed the level, confirming what he’d already felt—a place resembling the back rooms of a retail outlet. He read with increasing unease:

Class One. Safe. Secure. Minimal Entity Count. Level 0 is a non-linear space, resembling the back rooms of a retail outlet. All rooms appear uniform, yet no two are identical. The walls are decorated with yellowish floral wallpaper, the carpet damp, and the flickering lights buzz at a constant frequency. The substance saturating the carpet remains unidentified and is unsafe for consumption.

Adam swallowed, his heart sinking as he absorbed the words. The page explained how this place defied navigation; walking in a straight line could lead you right back to where you started, only with different rooms. Every corner held the potential to deceive him, to disorient him even further. He flipped to the second page, the edges brittle under his fingers.

Hallucinations are common in Level 0:

The hum from the lighting may amplify to deafening levels, only to cease abruptly.

Doors or stairs may appear but will vanish when approached.

A sense of déjà vu, movement in peripheral vision resembling insects crawling under wallpaper, and chittering sounds have all been reported.

A rise in CO₂ levels is noted, though its cause and effect are unknown.

Entities: None are known to exist within Level 0. If you see another person, it is not human.

Adam’s throat went dry. No other people, yet others had been here, too, trapped in this unending maze, all alone. And some had never found a way out. His eyes skimmed to the section marked Entrances and Exits.

Exits Exiting Level 0 is only possible by “noclipping,” which will lead to Level 1. Those unfamiliar with the Backrooms must adapt quickly to the environment to escape. Entrance to the Manila Room is rare but achievable by traveling a significant distance in any direction. Here, wanderers may meet freely; however, the room serves only as a temporary refuge.

Adam’s mind reeled. Noclipping? The Manila Room? The concepts felt surreal, detached from reality, yet here he was, standing in the evidence of their truth. He wasn’t just lost in some abandoned building. He was somewhere else entirely, and the rules he knew were meaningless here.

He set the file back in the suitcase, his gaze lingering on the room around him. The silence now felt heavier, weighted with the knowledge of what lay in wait—only the droning hum and the distorted, flickering lights as his companions. The buzzing had grown louder, pressing into his ears like a warning, almost as if mocking his hope of escape.

Taking a shaky breath, Adam steeled himself and started walking again, the damp carpet squelching beneath his feet. And as he ventured deeper into the endless maze, one thought pulsed in his mind: he had to keep his bearings.

Adam leaned against one of the yellow wallpapered walls, the stale scent of mildew lingering in the thick, stagnant air. His head bumped softly against the wall, the dull thud breaking the silence. He squinted down the corridor, his fingers tapping an uncertain rhythm on the wall beside him. Had he been here before? It felt the same—the same smell, the same dull yellow light, the same suffocating silence. That file he'd read—how long ago? Days? Hours? He had no sense of time here. But it said that Level Zero was alive, aware, watching him.

He exhaled slowly, his breath barely audible in the stale air. Maybe... maybe it was listening too.

"Hi?" His voice felt strange, out of place. There was no echo, no answer, only the hum of the lights overhead. Adam shifted, clearing his throat. "My name is Adam. I guess you could say I'm... a wanderer. Or maybe a prisoner. I don't really like either of those labels, honestly."

Silence. A quiet that swallowed every word he uttered, sinking them into some void. He half-laughed, half-sighed and leaned harder into the wall, the yellow paper crinkling beneath his shoulder.

"Well, I suppose you're not much of a talker." He rubbed the back of his neck and continued, his voice growing more conversational, as if speaking to an old friend. "So, here’s the deal. I'm Adam. Twenty-six. Bit of a nerd, yeah. Still single, if you can believe it. No luck with girls—or guys, for that matter."

 He chuckled softly. "I’m into Star Wars and all that, you know? I like to grow things. Flowers mostly—camellias, carnations, roses... it's peaceful. You’d be surprised how soothing it is. It’s kind of like meditation."

He tapped his fingers against the wall, feeling an odd, half-felt connection in the silence. "I cried like a baby during Titanic, if you’re curious about my softer side—"

Suddenly, the wall behind him vanished, and Adam stumbled back, gasping as he tumbled onto his back, blinking wildly. The yellow wallpapered corridor was gone. Instead, he was in a square room, the faint hum still vibrating in the air. But here, four walls and a wooden door greeted him, the first door he’d seen in this endless maze. The wall he’d fallen through now seemed solid again, as if it had never disappeared.

Shakily, Adam pushed himself to his feet, his eyes scanning the room. A wooden table stood in the centre, flanked by two simple chairs. His gaze fell on the table, where a beige folder lay waiting for him, stamped with a message: "Congratulations. Level Zero has allowed you to enter the Manila Room. You will always be able to find this room now."

"So... talking to you worked?" he whispered, his heart racing. Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he pulled the folder closer and opened it. Inside, he found three faded pages.

The first page held a brief description:

The Manila Room is a small, isolated room within Level zero, often seen as a safe point. Its thick, beige walls enclose wanderers in its protective silence, a rare sanctuary from the shifting nature of Level zero. Though minimal, the furnishings here vary, sometimes consisting only of a table and chair. Despite the isolation, wanderers may find solace in knowing they are not alone—others have left traces, faded memories marked on the worn surface of the table.

Adam glanced around, a small shiver running down his spine as he wondered how many others had sat here, reading these same pages, caught in the same strange in-between. He turned to the second page, marked simply as "Anomalies."

While Level zero exudes a hum that burrows into your senses, the Manila Room is no different. Here, the lighting mirrors that of Level zero, a faint, grating hum that fluctuates, leaving the room in total darkness at times. Knocking and banging sounds from the walls—though the source is unknown—are heard in these dark periods, as if something is just beyond, reaching, waiting.

The words seemed to pulse, drawing his mind to every creak and crack in the walls around him. He could almost feel something watching, something that just... hid. He flipped to the final page, detailing levels beyond this one, their descriptions cold and impersonal.

Level 1 – A sprawling, endless warehouse, safe and stocked with essentials. Next stop, wanderer.

Level 2 – Dark and cramped, a series of maintenance tunnels where heat and danger lurk in the shadows.

Level 3 – The gauntlet, a perilous level of electrical stations and barred hallways where survival is not guaranteed.

Level 4 – Safety and solace. A quiet office realm with supplies and rest for weary travellers.

Level Fun – A trap as deceptive as its name. Party decorations and fatal tricks await in every room. Beware the welcoming arms of the Partygoers.

The End – An endless library, promising exit but delivering a deeper trap. The path is layered with illusions, designed to lure and hold.

Adam exhaled, closing the file, his pulse quickening as he placed it back on the table. A chill ran through him as he sat back in the chair, the eerie quiet pressing in from every corner.

"So..." he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, "Where do we go from here?"

Adam blinked at the document, the sterile, clinical language doing little to reassure him. "Level Fun" was not somewhere he wanted to find himself, despite the deceivingly friendly name, and the notion of "The End" seemed like a final, malicious joke—a labyrinth made to trap him forever. He shuddered at the descriptions of twisting maintenance tunnels, ominous party rooms, and endless electrical stations swarming with entities, all waiting somewhere beyond this strange, quiet sanctuary.

Setting the file down, he looked around at the dim, beige walls of the Manila Room. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was in a room with a door—solid, heavy-looking wood, contrasting sharply with the unnerving yellow surroundings outside. It stood defiantly closed, as if daring him to open it. Every detail, from the humming light to the odd silence broken only by occasional faint, muffled bangs within the walls, kept him on edge. He glanced back at the file, feeling the weight of his situation settle deeper.

“Congratulated for entering a safe room…” he murmured. “Right, well, thanks. Guess I'm really supposed to be grateful for beige walls and a couple of chairs.”

Despite his sarcasm, a flicker of hope had rooted itself in his chest. Somehow, the Manila Room felt like a lifeline—a place where he could catch his breath, even if just for a moment.

A loud, echoing bang sounded from somewhere inside the walls, followed by an eerie silence. He froze, his eyes widening. For a room designated "safe," it didn't exactly make him feel secure. Even the comforting stability of the Manila Room felt oddly vulnerable, like a momentary illusion.

After a long, shallow breath, Adam focused on his choices. Okay, so the file says the door leads out… or to more danger, he thought, biting his lip. He could stay, cocooned here, waiting for something to happen, but a part of him knew that was pointless. Nothing would change, and eventually, he’d just have to leave, searching for Level 1 or any safe exit from this bizarre prison. The instructions had even warned him: adapt quickly.

Summoning his courage, he stood, resting a hand on the cold doorknob. "

If anyone’s listening… here’s hoping Level 1 is better than Level Zero," he whispered to no one in particular, just the invisible walls and the unblinking light above.

Turning the knob slowly, he pushed the door open. The stale air from the Manila Room mingled with a faint, distant scent—one he couldn’t place—seeping in from the other side. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, the yellowish glow of the backrooms casting sinister shadows across the threshold. He took a step, each movement echoing like a footstep into an empty, cavernous world.

Adam gripped the doorknob, fingers twitching with the weight of his own hesitation. He didn’t know where the door would lead—he didn’t know where any door would lead, if he were honest—but still, he felt a pull, like this was the only way forward. With a slow inhale, he took a step, ready to let the room swallow him again.

But then, a voice, smooth as silk and warm as candlelight, drifted from behind him.

"I wouldn’t go out that door."

Adam froze, his breath caught in his throat as he turned, finding himself face to face with a man seated at the table he’d just left. It was impossible—he had been alone. His eyes settled on the stranger’s face: a strikingly handsome man, his blonde hair framing a face as sharp as it was beautiful. Cherry-red lips curled into a broad smile, and his intense blue eyes flickered with a strange light as he leaned back in his chair.

“Uh… did… did you just… say something?” Adam stammered, unable to peel his gaze away from the man's unearthly face.

The man’s smile widened, and he inclined his head. “I said, I wouldn’t go out that door. I would go out that one instead.”

He pointed to a wall across from Adam, where another door had appeared—one that hadn’t been there before.

Adam blinked, glancing back and forth between the doors, uncertainty seizing him. “That… wasn’t there before.”

The man chuckled, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, his gaze unbroken. "I know. Even in the safety of the Manila Room, the Backrooms like to play their tricks. They are alive, after all."

Swallowing, Adam let go of the doorknob and stepped back into the room, closing the door with a soft click.

“The… Backrooms?” he echoed, trying to process the stranger's words. He was aware of the pulse in his chest, of the steady beat that grew louder the longer he held the man’s gaze.

The man gestured to the chair. "Why don’t you sit back down and talk with me?"

His smile was still gentle, but there was something almost teasing in his tone. "Trust me, you’re going to want to sit down for this."

With nothing else to do, Adam nodded, nerves fluttering in his chest as he returned to his chair. He settled in slowly, his eyes meeting the stranger’s, held by the man’s piercing blue gaze. They shimmered, almost crystalline, reflecting the dull light of the room in strange, glimmering patterns, as though holding secrets of their own. Adam’s heart thrummed faster under the stranger’s unrelenting stare, every beat drawing him deeper into those dark, glassy depths.

“So…” the man began, his voice low, soft, and oddly comforting, “You’re Adam. You just fell in here, didn’t you?”

Adam’s mouth went dry. “Uh, yeah… I think I… noclipped, or whatever the term is?”

The man tilted his head, his smile never wavering. “Yes, that’s the term. You’re a newcomer, still figuring out which way is up.”

He chuckled. “And already talking to the Backrooms themselves. Bold move.”

Adam flushed. “I didn’t think it would actually… I mean, I didn’t expect you to show up.”

The man’s laughter was soft, filling the air like a soothing hum.

“Oh, I’m not the Backrooms,” he said, a hint of mischief sparking in his eyes. “Just someone who’s been here a long time. And I know the tricks it likes to play. If you’re not careful, it’ll twist you in knots you can’t untangle.”

Adam shifted in his seat, feeling both unnerved and inexplicably drawn to the man. “And you… live here? Or… are you, like, stuck too?”

The man smiled, a slight, wistful look crossing his face. “Stuck. Or maybe… chosen. It’s all perspective, don’t you think?”

He leaned in closer, his blue eyes gleaming with a strange, magnetic intensity. "Sometimes it’s easier to stop fighting the walls and to let them guide you. They have a way of giving you what you need if you know how to listen.”

Adam’s gaze darted toward the wall where the new door had appeared. "So… you think I should go through that door, instead of the other one?"

“Precisely.” The man folded his hands, his stare unbroken. “The Manila Room wants you to go through that door. The other will just bring you back here, over and over again until you stop resisting.”

Adam cleared his throat, glancing from the man’s bright blue eyes to the table between them. “Uh… I’m Adam,” he introduced himself, unsure if it even mattered in this strange, surreal place.

The man’s smile widened slightly, his eyes shimmering with a knowing gleam.

“I know. But it’s nice to meet you officially, Adam,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “You can call me… Lucifer.”

Adam blinked, taking in the name. Somehow it fit, and yet Lucifer looked nothing like the fiery, ominous figure he might have imagined. He looked like any regular guy: white hoodie, simple blue jeans, a t-shirt. It was all so casual. But as Adam’s gaze lingered, he realized there was something subtle, something almost magnetic, that set him apart. Maybe it was his eyes—bright blue but so strange, so alive in contrast to the dull, humming lights of the room.

Lucifer leaned forward, breaking the silence with a gentle, almost pitying look. “So, Adam, let’s cover the basics. This place you’ve found yourself in—the Backrooms? It’s vast. It has thousands of levels, some worse than others, but nearly all of them come with dangerous entities. Many will try to kill you. Some for food, others… just for fun.”

Adam gulped, his grip on the chair tightening. “Th-That’s… that’s awful. Are they all dangerous?”

Lucifer shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “No, not all. Some are harmless, maybe even friendly. Some are lonely, others want nothing more than to be left alone. But if you keep moving through the Backrooms, from one level to another, you’ll meet all kinds. And some encounters, you’ll wish you could forget.”

Adam’s mouth went dry, his thoughts racing with questions he didn’t know how to ask. Finally, he mustered a whisper, “How… how do I get out?”

Lucifer’s gaze darkened, and a small, humourless laugh slipped from his lips. “Get out? The easiest thing to do is to forget about that. The Backrooms don’t like to let anyone go. Any human who enters… well, they’re fair game. For the entities, for the levels themselves. Surviving here takes luck and… a bit of creativity.”

He leaned back, his eyes softening. “The only way out is by sheer accident. Very few actually find an exit.”

Adam’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the reality sinking in. “So… I’m trapped here? Forever?”

Lucifer shrugged; his expression unreadable. “That’s how it works here. This place doesn’t play fair, and it doesn’t have mercy.”

Adam’s eyes grew misty, and he had to bite back the surge of panic building in his chest. Forcing himself to look Lucifer in the eye again, he managed, “How… how many levels are there?”

Lucifer’s face went distant, his gaze drifting upward as though recalling some buried memory. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Nine hundred ninety-nine. Give or take.”

Adam’s jaw dropped, his mind stumbling over the number. “Nine hundred and… ninety-nine?”

Lucifer laughed, the sound strangely comforting in the oppressive silence. “Yes. Quite a lot, isn’t it?”

Adam gawked. “You don’t think that’s… overwhelming?”

A smirk crept across Lucifer’s face. “I’ve been here a long time. After a while, even this place gets boring.”

Adam didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead, he blurted, “So what am I supposed to do? Just… survive?”

Lucifer’s amusement deepened, a glimmer of something dark dancing in his eyes. “The best thing you can do is join a group. Find others who fell in like you. It’s easier with allies… even if trust can be scarce.”

Adam tilted his head. “A… group?”

“Groups,” Lucifer explained smoothly, “Are made up of wanderers who’ve fallen in and, somehow, survived. There’s The M.E.G., The Black Knights, The B.N.T.G., The Eternal Repository… the list goes on. Each one claims to have a grand purpose, but to me, they all seem quite the same.”

Adam hummed thoughtfully. “How do I… join one?”

Lucifer chuckled, and he gestured to the door beside him. “By going through that door. It’ll take you to a canon, a sort of liminal space between levels. If you’re lucky, someone else might already be there. If not, you’ll have to wait for another wanderer to show up.”

Adam frowned, the dread returning. “Sort of safe?”

Lucifer’s laugh was quiet, tinged with that same dark humour. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll be fine. Just keep your wits about you.”

Adam took a steadying breath, his fingers hovering over the door handle. But before he could turn it, he glanced back at Lucifer. “Will I… see you again?”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, a flicker of something almost sympathetic flashing in his eyes.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice dropping to a low, resonant whisper. “Or maybe I’ll just be another ghost in the shadows.”

He leaned back, watching Adam with an enigmatic smile. “Good luck, Adam. You’ll need it.”

With a final glance, Adam turned the knob and stepped through the door, the echo of Lucifer’s words lingering in his mind as the room faded into the endless unknown beyond.

Adam stepped carefully into the canyon between the two levels. It was disorienting, as though he stood on the lip of a metal chasm, darkness yawning beneath him, darkness pressing above. He was utterly alone, and Lucifer’s words taunted him in his head: If no one was here, you’d have to wait for someone to enter.

With a resigned sigh, Adam sat down, curling his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. He could almost laugh—just hours ago, he’d been hunched over his desk at the company, working into the dead of night for barely enough to scrape by. And now, here he was, trapped in some bizarre yellow maze, somewhere beyond his understanding. His eyes stung, his throat tightened. It felt like the cruellest of nightmares.

Exhaustion weighed on him, and his eyes began to drift shut. But just as the shadows started to claim him, he felt it—a faint tremor beneath him, the vibration of footsteps on the metal ring. His head jerked up, heart pounding. Standing within the canyon, eyes on him, was a stranger—a woman with short, snow-white hair, her gaze sharp and unreadable.

Adam’s breath caught, his green eyes widening as he met her stare.

Adam’s heart was still pounding as he scrambled to his feet, half from excitement, half from sheer exhaustion. He hadn’t thought anyone would actually show up—he’d half-believed he’d sit there until the dark around him swallowed him whole.

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed, his voice shaky as he took in the woman before him. “You’re… you’re really human?”

He searched her face for any hint of familiarity, comfort, something solid to hold onto. “I’m Adam, and I—I want to join your group. I’ll work hard, I swear! I’m… I’m good at… well, I mean, I’m good at, uh, following directions, and I won’t weigh anyone down.”

The woman, with her short, stark white hair and piercing gaze, stared at him in silence, her expression unreadable. Adam felt his confidence falter but forced himself to continue, words tumbling out in a rush.

“I, um… I don’t really know how long I’ve been here. Time, uh, kind of just… blends together.” He bit his lip, searching for the right words, but all he could think about was how he’d been ripped away from his regular, mundane life.

“I was just working late, trying to make ends meet, and then… and now I’m here, and it’s…” He trailed off, his voice catching.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she interrupted him, her voice cutting through his ramble like a knife.

“My name is Lute,” she said, her tone flat, “And I’m part of the Exorcist group.”

“Exorcist?” Adam echoed, the word strange but somehow hopeful. “Can I… join you?”

Lute frowned, clearly weighing her response carefully. “The Exorcist is… primarily a female-only group.”

Adam’s face flushed, and he shrank back a little, mumbling, “Oh, sorry… I didn’t know. I, uh—”

Lute’s expression softened slightly, though her gaze remained sharp. She let out a small snort, almost amused.

“Of course, you wouldn’t know. You’re new here, and you’re obviously…” she hesitated, her eyes flicking over him with an unreadable expression, “Not exactly cut out for this place.”

Her voice was blunt, but her stare lingered as if she saw something in him she hadn’t expected.

Adam’s heart sank, but before he could process her words, she sighed, shaking her head. “Look, I don’t know what it is, but something tells me not to leave you here like this. You look pathetic, honestly.”

His eyes widened, and he felt a surge of gratitude rush over him.

“Thank you,” he blurted, nodding rapidly as he moved to follow her. “Thank you, really—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lute interrupted, already turning toward the other side of the canon, her footsteps confident and precise. “I’m not making any promises, and I can’t guarantee they’ll welcome you in. I’m just… letting you tag along for now.”

Adam practically stumbled after her, words of thanks tumbling from his mouth anyway as he hurried to match her stride. Lute moved quickly and purposefully, her steps echoing around them as they crossed the canon. She didn’t look back, and Adam tried to steady himself, pulling himself together as best he could. He knew he’d have to prove himself if he had any hope of joining her group—and more importantly, of surviving.

“Just keep quiet and follow my lead,” Lute added, her tone dropping to a low murmur. “You’ll need to learn fast if you want to survive here. The Exorcist group doesn’t have much room for dead weight.”

Adam nodded, swallowing his nervousness. “Got it. I’ll do my best.”

Lute cast him one last, assessing glance before facing forward again. They moved in silence, the oppressive dark around them seeming to press in closer with each step. But with Lute’s steady form in front of him, Adam felt, for the first time since he’d stumbled into this nightmare, a glimmer of hope.

Adam’s heart pounded as he stepped into the cavernous room where the Exorcist group had gathered. True to Lute’s word, every pair of eyes on him belonged to a woman. They moved with a cautious efficiency that made him feel, for all his promises, painfully out of place. He forced a nervous smile, his hands fidgeting at his sides, and cleared his throat, trying to seem more confident than he felt.

“Uh, hi. I’m Adam,” he started, shifting from foot to foot as their gazes drilled into him. “I… I just wanted to say, I’ll pull my weight. I’m here to help, and, um, I know I’m new, but I’m a fast learner, I promise.”

He forced a chuckle, hoping it would lighten the mood, but it fell flat against the silence.

The women glanced at each other, their expressions impassive, communicating silently with one another in a way that made Adam even more uneasy. He felt like an intruder, desperately trying to find his footing. The silence grew thicker until one of them finally spoke, her voice dripping with scepticism.

“Lute,” she said, not looking at Adam, “mind telling us what’s going on here?”

Lute rolled her eyes but gestured toward him with a tilt of her head.

“Look at him. He’s like a damn lost puppy,” she said bluntly, a trace of annoyance in her voice. “If I’d left him out there, he’d have been toast in a day. Maybe less.”

She shrugged, giving him a sidelong glance. “Figured I’d give him a shot.”

Another woman, tall and broad-shouldered, folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“You know we’re not exactly… open enrolment.” Her tone held a trace of something soft, but her gaze remained wary.

Adam swallowed, trying not to shrink under her stare.

“I know I don’t really… fit the criteria,” he stammered, “But I’ll work hard. I’m not just here to slow you down.”

One of the younger women leaned over and muttered to another, “He does look kind of pathetic.”

Lute snorted, crossing her arms and tilting her head back as if sizing him up. “Yeah, well, he won’t stay that way for long if he’s with us. Look, he’s here now. Either we kick him out or we train him up. Your call.”

A tense silence lingered as the women exchanged glances, debating among themselves. Finally, the broad-shouldered woman let out a sigh and stepped forward, extending a hand.

“I’m Rhys. You can tag along, but this isn’t a free ride, got it?”

Adam nodded quickly, relief washing over him as he took her hand. “Thank you, really. I won’t let you down.”

Another woman with close-cropped dark hair crossed her arms and gave him a wry smile. “Welcome to Exorcist, Adam. But don’t get too comfortable. We’re not the hand-holding type.”

Adam managed a weak grin, nodding again, but the gravity of her words sank deep. He had so much to learn and knew he was still at the mercy of this strange, labyrinthine place. For now, though, he had allies—and that alone was enough to keep him going.

Rhys leaned back, looking him over once more. “You’ll start by carrying supplies. Let’s see if you can at least handle that without getting lost.”

As the group turned to go, Adam fell into step, glancing at Lute with a small, grateful smile. She didn’t return it, but there was a glint of something in her eyes—something almost like approval.

Weeks passed, and the tense, silent looks from the Exorcist group gradually gave way to something warmer, though it was subtle, unspoken. Adam noticed it in the way they would share rations with him or smirk at his half-nervous, half-genuine jokes. Lute, in particular, became his closest friend. The two shared a bond forged through trial and—on more than one occasion—outrunning danger together.

"Come on, rookie," she’d say, a mischievous glint in her eye, "Think you can keep up this time?"

It was a line he’d heard often and one that always made him laugh.

They were both runners, the fastest in Exorcist, and that edge had saved them and their team more times than Adam could count. There had been one close call on Level 38—a narrow corridor riddled with pulsing lights that disoriented even the steadiest runners. They’d gone in for supplies, but something had gone wrong, the walls started to shift and twist, trapping half the group.

Lute had grabbed his arm, pulling him forward, her voice sharp in his ear, "Run now. Don’t look back."

Adam had pushed forward, adrenaline drowning his fear, and managed to make it out just in time to loop around and pry open an exit from the other side, allowing the others to escape.

The relief on their faces as they emerged said it all. After that, the women began treating him less like an outsider and more like one of their own. A few even clapped him on the back or tossed him the odd compliment. His quick feet had made a difference, and now he knew they trusted him.

One evening, back in the Manila Room, Adam slumped against the wall, catching his breath after a long supply run. Lute dropped down next to him, throwing a smirk his way.

"Not bad for a newbie," she teased, elbowing him. "I thought I’d finally worn you out this time.”

Adam chuckled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

She snorted. "Keep it up, and maybe one day you'll actually pass me."

She looked at him, eyes softening just a little. "Not that I’m complaining, though. You’re useful to have around, Adam."

"Hey, coming from you, that almost sounds like a compliment," he grinned.

"Don’t let it get to your head," she shot back, but the faint smile tugging at her lips said otherwise.

Their camaraderie didn't go unnoticed. Rhys, ever the cautious leader, would often assign the two of them to scout new levels together, trusting their combined speed and Lute’s sharp instincts. Adam felt a surge of pride each time they were called forward—like he was finally part of something, like he was building something in this strange, surreal world he now called home.

It was on one such scouting mission, as they crossed into a newly discovered level, that Adam felt a shift in the air—a subtle dread. He and Lute exchanged a glance, their playful banter falling silent as they surveyed the strange terrain ahead. The walls were slate grey, punctuated by slits that cast narrow beams of dim light, and the floor was a checkerboard of glossy and matte tiles, each producing a different echo with every step.

“What do you think?” he whispered.

Lute scanned the shadows, her eyes narrowed. “This place feels… wrong. But we’re here now.”

She looked back at him, something serious in her gaze. “Stay close. I’d rather not have to rescue you if this goes sideways.”

Adam nodded, his pulse quickening. “Wouldn’t want to make you go through the trouble.”

They shared a brief smile before slipping into the shadows, side by side, knowing that whatever lay ahead, they'd face it together. The dim, oppressive corridors stretched endlessly before them, narrow pathways lined with rough, cold metal. The lights, barely flickering above, cast feeble beams that barely cut through the shadows.

“Keep your guard up,” Lute murmured, her voice low. “Entity Three—Smilers—have been reported around here.”

Adam perked up with interest. As one of the newer recruits, he hadn’t encountered all the entities they’d been warned about. He’d never seen a Smiler, and his curiosity flared. Lute shot him a sideways glance, catching his expression.

“Let’s hope you don’t,” she said sharply, her tone making it clear this wasn’t something to take lightly.

They crept forward, cautious but alert. As they reached a junction where a faint light pulsed dimly from down the corridor, Adam moved to step toward it. Before he could, Lute’s hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising force.

“Stop,” she hissed, her eyes sharp and unyielding. Adam gave her a puzzled look. She nodded toward the faint light.

“Smilers are drawn to light,” she explained in a near whisper. “These tunnels are their perfect hunting grounds, especially for anyone inexperienced or careless. If they spot movement near light, they’ll chase—relentlessly.”

Adam’s gaze shifted across the dark labyrinth with a strange awe, imagining creatures lurking just beyond the shadows. A thrill sparked in his chest, but he held it back. He’d always been fascinated by the Backrooms, by the whispered horror stories of entities lurking within. He knew the others thought he was foolish for his curiosity—especially Lute.

Lute’s gaze was sharp and calculating as she took in the dimly lit expanse of metal tunnels sprawling before them. She glanced at Adam, a slight frown tugging at her lips, catching that glint of curiosity in his eyes—the same look that always unnerved her. Adam was fascinated by the Backrooms in a way that felt dangerous to her. Most people fell into this place wanting nothing more than to escape it; Adam, on the other hand, seemed intrigued, like he was peeking under the veil of some strange secret.

“First off, what we do,” she whispered, her hand still gripping his arm, “is make sure you don’t start daydreaming. These things are no joke, Adam. You can’t treat every entity like some kind of pet you’re hoping to spot. The Smilers? They’re not ones you want to admire from a distance.”

Adam’s face fell slightly, but he nodded, squashing his curiosity for now. “Right, right… No Smilers. Got it.”

Lute released his arm and gestured for him to follow her, keeping to the shadows along the walls. “We’ll need to move slowly, quietly. We’re only here to scout and see if this area’s clear for the others, so no straying from me. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adam whispered, trying for levity but earning only a flat look in return.

“Stay behind me.” She moved with practiced ease, glancing around each corner before stepping forward.

 Adam followed, careful to keep his steps light, his breathing steady. The air was thick with humidity, making the metallic scent even sharper, and the low hum of flickering lights above sent intermittent pulses of light through the tunnels like a heartbeat.

As they advanced deeper into the level, the silence grew heavier, thickening the air like a fog. Adam felt a prickling at the back of his neck as his eyes scanned the darkness, half-expecting to see the curved white smile of a Smiler grinning back at him from the shadows.

“So… they really only attack if you panic or make noise?” Adam murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Lute nodded, her eyes fixed ahead. “Yes, but don't count on that saving you if one gets too close. The best approach is to avoid them entirely. Remember what I said—eye contact, and back away slowly if you do see one. But let’s keep it that we don’t.”

They continued moving, the tunnel walls pressing in closer, the ceiling lower. Adam’s heart pounded as he spotted another light source up ahead, dim and flickering in a small alcove. Against his better judgment, he leaned forward, straining his eyes, almost hoping to catch a glimpse of movement—anything to get a sense of the entity that had become something of a morbid curiosity for him.

Lute’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder this time.

 “Focus, Adam.” Her voice was stern, almost a warning. “Curiosity will get you killed here. These tunnels are a Smiler’s playground. If even one of them is around, they’ll know we’re here.”

Adam flushed, pulling himself back into focus. “Sorry. I’ll stay close.”

Lute nodded, though her gaze softened just slightly. “Good. Let’s just get out of here as fast as we can without drawing attention.”

They pressed on, weaving through twists and turns, Adam’s mind torn between fear and fascination as he imagined what lurked behind the shadows. Suddenly, a soft scraping sound echoed through the tunnel—a faint, scratching noise that seemed to come from the metal above them. Adam froze, looking up, his heart pounding as the noise grew louder, like nails dragging across steel.

Lute stopped in her tracks, her face paling slightly. She mouthed, Stay calm. She motioned for Adam to crouch down, and they huddled together, eyes fixed on the shadows above.

A soft, ghostly glow appeared above them, illuminating the faint outline of something tall, with a long, broad smile stretching impossibly wide. Its sharp teeth glistened in the dim light, and its eyes—a pair of small, reflective dots—seemed to flicker like candle flames as it stared down, unblinking.

Adam’s breath hitched, his fascination and terror mixing into a single, overpowering sensation. This was a Smiler, a real one, and it was close enough to see him, close enough to sense any wrong move.

Lute held a finger to her lips, her other hand gripping his arm tightly. Slowly, she began to back away, keeping eye contact with the creature, her steps careful and deliberate. Adam followed her lead, his gaze locked onto the Smiler’s eerie, endless grin.

The entity watched them, its head tilting in an unnatural way, but it didn’t pursue. Slowly, they put distance between themselves and the Smiler, slipping back into the deeper shadows until the creature’s glow faded into the darkness.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Lute let out a shaky breath. She turned to Adam, her eyes flashing with frustration and something like relief. “That, Adam, is why you don’t mess around here. You keep moving, and you keep your head down, got it?”

Adam nodded, swallowing hard. “Got it. I… thanks, Lute.”

She sighed, giving him a small, tired smile. “You’ll learn. Just don’t let your curiosity get us both killed, okay?”

As they navigated the final stretch of tunnels, Adam’s mind buzzed with questions, but he bit his tongue, focusing on the path ahead. The Smiler’s grin lingered in his thoughts, a haunting reminder of just how close they had come to losing everything in a single, miscalculated glance.

Finally, they found an exit, the faint glow of the Manila Room’s doorway up ahead. Lute quickened her pace, giving Adam one last warning look as they crossed the threshold.

“Remember this level, Adam,” she said softly, a trace of solemnity in her voice. “The Backrooms don’t take prisoners lightly. You got lucky today. Next time… stay in the shadows and keep your eyes to yourself.”

Lute and Adam stepped through the Manila Room doorway, and Lute let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her tense shoulders relaxed as she saw the rest of the Exocists gathered, some waiting with concern clear in their faces. Adam, however, seemed more intrigued than relieved, his mind visibly still caught in the maze of tunnels they had left behind.

The group’s leader, Mia, approached them, her gaze flickering between Lute’s steady demeanor and Adam’s more excited expression. “Everything clear?” she asked.

Lute nodded. “Yes, but that level’s crawling with Smilers. It’s a deathtrap. We’ll need another route next time.” She shot Adam a sidelong glance, raising a brow as he suppressed a flurry of questions. “And some of us still need a reminder about not getting too curious.”

One of the girls chuckled, muttering, “Adam the curious puppy strikes again.”

Adam flushed but managed a grin, shrugging off the teasing with a halfhearted, “Just trying to be prepared.”

The team debriefed quickly, planning their next outing to a new level. This time, they were looking for resources, a stash the M.E.G. team had mentioned was hidden somewhere deep in a lower level. Lute and Adam were, again, assigned to go ahead and scout. Despite her reservations, Lute trusted Adam to keep up, knowing he was fast and learning quickly. His speed had come in handy more than once in getting them all out of close scrapes.

The next day, they stepped into the new level and were met with the heavy, stagnant air of the concrete hallways around them. Dim lights buzzed from above, throwing eerie shadows along the cracked walls.

“Let’s stick close,” Lute muttered, glancing around. “We need to get eyes on those crates and verify the supplies. And remember—stay sharp.”

Adam gave her a quick thumbs-up. “Got it. You lead; I’ll follow.”

They wove through the labyrinth of corridors, the silence thickening around them. Adam’s steps were quiet, but his attention wavered, his gaze darting into each shadowed nook they passed. He couldn’t shake the thrill he felt at being here; every corner hinted at secrets waiting to be uncovered.

After a while, the hallway branched into two paths. Lute paused, squinting down each passage, before turning to Adam.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up here,” she said, though she looked at him with a hint of reluctance. “If you find anything, mark it on the wall and circle back here in ten. And if anything feels wrong—anything—you run.”

Adam nodded, trying to hide his excitement. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take the left path.”

Lute lingered for a moment, her gaze steady.

“Be careful,” she murmured, and with that, she turned down the opposite hallway.

Alone now, Adam’s footsteps echoed softly as he walked, his senses alert. The concrete walls around him were rough and cool to the touch, their uneven surfaces casting strange, shifting shadows. Every step he took was careful, his movements deliberate as he scanned each crevice and doorway. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him, lurking just beyond his sight.

The further he went, the quieter everything became, as if the level itself absorbed sound. It was disorienting, the way each step seemed to vanish into the oppressive silence. His hand brushed against his flashlight, but he hesitated, remembering Lute’s words about lights drawing entities. He kept it in his pocket, instead moving by the faint light filtering down from above.

After a few minutes, he noticed faint, weathered markings on the wall. Strange symbols etched in chalk, faded and smeared. Someone had been here before him, possibly a group like his own. Adam felt a thrill of excitement mixed with caution. These markings could mean supplies… or they could be warnings.

Adam wandered alone through the dim tunnels, his large green eyes absorbing every detail, from the rusted bolts to the faint lights that barely pushed back the darkness. He was enthralled, even lost, when suddenly, hands shot out from behind, covering his eyes. He froze, his heart leaping into his throat as a shorter figure pressed against his back, guiding him to stumble backward into the corridor he had just left. His hands darted up, gripping the wrists of his unseen captor, and he twisted around, ready to demand an answer.

He was met with a wide, familiar grin.

"Lucifer?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. His disbelief was clear as he blinked, his eyebrows raised.

Lucifer chuckled, a soft “shhh” escaping his lips as he leaned closer. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Adam flushed, his face warming as he mumbled, “I… I thought I’d never see you again.”

Lucifer tilted his head playfully. “Were you worried about me?”

Adam’s face darkened with a deeper shade of red, and he shrugged, his eyes scanning Lucifer as if seeing a ghost. Lucifer looked as pristine as ever, untouched by the horrors lurking in the Backrooms. His hoodie remained a clean, cozy white, his face calm and amused, not a trace of fear on him. The contrast left Adam reeling.

“Adam?” Lucifer’s voice pulled him back to the present, his gaze falling to where Adam still gripped his wrist. Adam’s eyes widened, and he quickly released him, stepping back in embarrassment.

“S-sorry,” he muttered shyly. “But… what were you doing?”

Lucifer’s grin widened as he took a step closer, “Saving you.”

Adam frowned, confusion twisting his features. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer gestured for him to follow, slipping silently to the edge of the corridor and leaning against the wall, his finger pointing toward a dimly lit patch across the open area. “See that?” he whispered, indicating a yellowish potato sack lying half in the shadows.

Adam squinted, a puzzled frown settling on his face. “Yeah… but it’s just a sack?”

Lucifer flashed a knowing smile. “That, Adam, is Entity 121—the Bone Thieves.”

Adam’s stomach turned, and he glanced warily back at the bag. “But it looks… like nothing.”

“They do,” Lucifer murmured, “until you get close. They’re massive, potato-shaped creatures with bumpy, sickly yellow skin—almost impossible to damage. They look harmless to lure people in.”

Just then, a chilling sound filled the air, the sack emitting a series of human-like cries, rising into anguished moans. Adam’s eyes widened in horrified fascination as he watched the bag shudder, as though in pain.

“The Bone Thieves,” Lucifer continued, his voice barely audible over the cries, “Mimic voices. Their sounds are so accurate that they lure their prey in close, paralyzing them. And if you’re unfortunate enough to look into their eyes…”

Lucifer trailed off, letting the implication settle. “That’s why one of the rules of the Backrooms is to never trust what you hear.”

Adam gulped, pressing himself back against the wall as the moans intensified.

“H-how do they kill?” he asked, his voice trembling. “Why are they called Bone Thieves?”

Lucifer’s eyes flicked toward a corridor across from them, his smile fading. “Watch closely.”

In that instant, a stranger, drawn by the mournful cries, came running down the hallway toward the sack. Adam gasped, watching as the man, transfixed, stumbled to a stop directly in front of the Bone Thief. Then, in a heartbeat, his entire body crumpled, collapsing like a sack of liquid, folding onto the ground in an unnaturally smooth descent.

“W-what just happened?” Adam whispered, his knees buckling as he clutched the wall for support.

Lucifer leaned in close, his shoulder brushing against Adam’s. “The Bone Thieves can silently extract every bone from a body with one look, leaving them a boneless husk. The poor soul falls, completely limp. Once they’re done, they swallow the body whole, slurping it up as if it were nothing. The bones? They teleport those away, instantly removed the moment a person makes eye contact.”

Just as Lucifer finished speaking, the Bone Thief stretched its ghastly neck toward the limp body, extending a thick, rubbery tongue that coiled around the corpse, pulling it into its gaping maw. With one audible gulp, it slumped back to the floor, its eyes closing as it settled into stillness.

“It’s safe now,” Lucifer murmured, straightening himself, his tone almost casual. “As long as we don’t disturb it. But if I hadn’t stopped you, you’d have walked right out there. And I can’t let that happen.”

Adam exhaled shakily, rubbing the back of his neck, his pulse still racing from what he’d just witnessed. “Thanks… really. I think I would have.”

Lucifer only smiled, giving Adam a gentle nudge. “Try to stay curious and careful, Adam.”

dam and Lucifer continued down the dark tunnels, Lucifer’s footsteps light and almost playful, while Adam moved cautiously, his eyes flickering over every corner but always drifting back to Lucifer. Unbeknownst to Adam, faint figures with wide, eerie grins watched from the shadows, their ghostly smiles locked on the pair as they passed by, but for now, they simply observed, content to wait.

Lucifer broke the silence with a gentle hum. “So, tell me, Adam—what entities have you come across so far?”

Adam’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“Not many,” he admitted, pouting. “I want to see more, but my group isn’t exactly on board. They all think it’s too dangerous, especially Lute. She barely lets me out of her sight if there’s even a hint of something risky.”

Lucifer snorted, amusement flickering in his eyes. He swayed back and forth as he walked, and when he stumbled, Adam instinctively reached out, steadying him. Lucifer flashed him a bright smile, his eyes gleaming. “Nothing wrong with curiosity, Adam. It’s completely normal. Actually, I’d say it’s a good thing.”

Lucifer leaned against Adam’s chest, grinning as he wrapped his arms warmly around Adam’s waist. Adam felt his cheeks heat up, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Lucifer’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you want my opinion, the best entity around here is Entity 27.”

Adam blinked, his curiosity instantly rekindled. “Entity 27? What’s that one?”

Lucifer gave a low chuckle, pressing himself closer. “Guess.”

Adam’s mind whirled as he tried to imagine the most terrifying creature possible. “A—a monster that could tear people apart, maybe something demonic… or invisible, that strikes without warning?”

Lucifer laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, you really want to know, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” Adam exclaimed, his curiosity fully piqued, almost forgetting about the tunnels around them.

With a glint of amusement, Lucifer stretched up onto his tiptoes, leaning in so close his breath brushed Adam’s ear.

“Entity 27 is…” he murmured, drawing out the suspense as Adam leaned in, his eyes burning with excitement.

“…Athenian ducks.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. “Ducks? Like… blood-sucking ducks?”

Lucifer grinned wider, shaking his head. “Nope. Just… ducks. Skittish, jumpy little things that run at the slightest hint of danger.”

Adam stared, both incredulous and fascinated. “That’s it? Just… normal ducks?”

Lucifer shrugged with a smirk. “Not every entity in the Backrooms is out for blood, Adam. Sometimes, they’re just here to make you laugh.”

Adam chuckled; his curiosity undiminished. He couldn’t quite picture these odd, harmless creatures among the horrors of the Backrooms, but then again, with Lucifer at his side, it all felt like a surreal dream anyway.

As they wandered deeper into the dim tunnels, the shadows danced around them, but Adam’s attention was wholly absorbed by Lucifer. He could barely focus on the surroundings, lost in the mesmerizing aura that Lucifer exuded.

“Hey, Lucifer,” Adam began, glancing sideways at him. “What about you? What entities have you seen?”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’ve probably seen them all. It’s hard to avoid them when you’ve been here as long as I have.”

Adam’s eyes widened in awe. “Really? Can you tell me about them?”

Lucifer snorted, his grin widening. “Alright, but don’t expect me to make it exciting.”

He began to recount, his voice casual yet tinged with an undercurrent of knowledge. “For starters, there’s Entity 33. You might know it as The King of the Clouds, The Animated King, or just The King. It resides in the uppermost level of the Castle of Transparent Mountain within Level 94.”

Adam listened intently, imagining the regal figure. “What’s he like?”

“He’s highly intelligent and literate in many fields, but honestly? He’s pretty boring.” He whistled softly, shaking his head. “If you ask me, he’s just confused and blind to his own powers.”

Adam smiled, picturing this majestic yet unremarkable king. “What else?”

“Then there’s Entity 79, often referred to as a ‘Wanderer.’ That’s what happens to people who consume Almond Water. They transform, and it’s pretty much inevitable. The only way to slow it down is by diversifying your diet. But good luck avoiding Almond Water entirely—its allure is strong, and almost everyone drinks it at least once.”

Adam nodded, intrigued. “What about other entities?”

“Ah, Entity 130, the Growlers,” Lucifer continued, the names rolling off his tongue like a well-rehearsed list. “They’re massive and hulking, always slouching due to their tentacular limbs. They come in various colours and are highly dangerous.”

Adam’s eyes widened further, the images flooding his imagination. “And what about the Howlers?”

“Entity 415,” Lucifer said, glancing at Adam. “They’re tall, usually around eleven feet, with glowing green eyes and black rock merged into their bodies. They constantly emit low growls that can be heard from quite a distance. If you hear one, you’d best head in the opposite direction.”

“That sounds terrifying!” Adam gasped, adrenaline coursing through him.

“Oh, and then there’s Entity 999,” Lucifer added nonchalantly. “It refers to a specific array of extreme hallucinations and pathogens that affect solitary wanderers. It appears near isolated areas, infecting food and supplies. It’s tricky because it’s hard to identify due to its unnatural appearance. Interestingly, it seems to show some kind of sentience.”

Adam listened intently, his heart racing at the thought of these formidable entities. Each detail drew him deeper into a world both fascinating and terrifying. But as Lucifer continued to list them off, he noticed a hint of boredom creeping into Lucifer’s tone.

Feeling bold, Adam came to a stop and grabbed the back of Lucifer's hood, gently pulling him to a halt. Lucifer blinked owlishly, the sudden motion catching him off guard. Then, as if awakening from a daydream, he cuddled back into Adam, his face beaming with mischief.

Adam found himself instinctively hugging Lucifer back, warmth flooding through him.

“Do you have a favourite entity?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Lucifer pouted slightly, resting his head against Adam’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. He melted into Adam’s embrace, a dreamy smile spreading across his face.

“I don’t have a favourite… but do you want to hear about the most dangerous entity in the Backrooms?” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “The one you must never upset or disappoint?”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, practically vibrating with excitement. “Yes, Luci! I really do!”

Lucifer gasped, the nickname igniting a flicker of delight in his eyes. He squeezed Adam tightly, nuzzling his face against Adam's chest, an almost affectionate purr escaping him.

“Alright, but be warned—this one is no joke. It’s not just a creature; it’s a force to be reckoned with.”

Adam leaned in closer, captivated, eager to hear the story behind this dangerous entity that had stirred such emotion in Lucifer. The air between them buzzed with anticipation, the darkness of the tunnels fading into the background as their shared curiosity ignited a light of its own.

Lucifer’s voice dropped to a hushed, almost reverent tone.

“Entity 1000,” he began, “Is the Game Creator, the master of all stories. They are extremely dangerous, and nobody has lived to tell the tale.”

Adam’s brow furrowed, a pout forming on his lips. “But you said there were only 999 entities,” he pointed out, curiosity swirling in his large green eyes.

Lucifer smirked, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze. “That’s because nobody knows if Entity 1000 is real or not. It’s hard to explain. They’re like a god, I guess.”

He paused, leaning slightly closer, the warmth of his presence sending shivers down Adam's spine. “They’re like all the entities merged together, able to do anything they want. They control the Backrooms. Some believe they even created the Backrooms themselves just to entertain themselves.”

Adam hummed thoughtfully, his mind racing as he continued to hold Lucifer close. The blonde-haired man felt warm against him, and Adam shivered again when he felt Lucifer's lips brush against the centre of his chest.

“But you’ve seen them?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucifer chuckled softly, a hint of something strange in his tone.

“Bingo,” he said, tilting his head back to meet Adam’s gaze. “It’s said that Entity 1000 was once an angel of God.”

Adam found himself entranced, unable to look away from Lucifer’s intense eyes. His heart began to beat louder, each pulse resonating in the silence around them.

“What happened to this angel?” Adam asked, his curiosity piqued.

Lucifer leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He was God’s favourite angel, the most powerful and beautiful one of them all. God doted on him, showering him with love and affection. But one day, God created something new—humans. And in doing so, he began to neglect his angel.”

A chill ran through Adam as he absorbed the weight of Lucifer's words.

“The angel got jealous,” Lucifer continued, “Angry at God for focusing his attention on these new creations. He didn’t understand why he had to care for them, so he decided to prove to his father that humans weren’t as perfect as he believed. He tricked them into taking the apple of life, but it unlocked the sins of the world within them.”

Adam’s breath hitched as he processed this dark turn in the tale.

“And God was furious?” he asked softly.

Lucifer nodded, his expression growing sombre. “He punished the angel cruelly, casting him out of heaven. With nowhere to go, the angel floated in the abyss of nothingness for centuries. His anger turned to boredom, and from that emptiness, the need to entertain himself grew.”

Adam felt a pang of sympathy for this fallen angel.

“So he created the Backrooms,” he murmured, piecing together the narrative.

“Exactly,” Lucifer confirmed, his eyes shining with intensity. “From his six wings, he crafted this labyrinth of horrors, trapping all of his father’s precious humans who fell into it. The entities here are manifestations of mankind’s sins, and he set them free to hunt any and all who dared to wander into his domain.”

Adam pressed his lips into a tight line, staring intently at Lucifer as he processed the weight of those words.

“That poor angel,” he finally said after several seconds, his heart aching for the creature cast out from grace.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, and he straightened, his head tilting slightly as he regarded Adam.

“Why do you feel pity for him?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Adam frowned thoughtfully. “Because he lost his home. He lost his family—all because God was selfish.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing his features. “How was God selfish?” he pressed.

Adam bit his bottom lip, searching for the right words. “Because God ignored his favourite angel. Of course the angel would get hurt over that. He probably didn’t understand why he was being neglected, and it’s no wonder he lashed out.”

Lucifer remained silent for a moment, absorbing Adam’s perspective. The flickering lights in the tunnel cast shadows that danced around them, creating an almost surreal atmosphere.

“You’re different, Adam,” Lucifer finally said, a hint of admiration threading through his voice. “Most people would be too scared to feel anything for the angel. They see him as a monster.”

Adam shrugged, feeling the warmth of their connection deepening. “But he was hurt. You can’t just look at his actions without understanding the pain behind them.”

Lucifer smiled softly, his gaze lingering on Adam with a newfound respect. “You’re right. Maybe there’s more to this place than just fear and survival.”

He paused, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But promise me you won’t let your curiosity lead you to danger, okay? This place isn’t just a story; it’s real, and it can consume you if you’re not careful.”

Adam nodded, feeling the gravity of Lucifer’s words settle within him.

Lucifer's smile becomes more mysterious, as if it held secrets untold. He stretches himself up onto his tip toes and brushes his fingers along Adam’s cheek.

"Do you want to know what entity 1000 is after nowadays?" he whispers, the shine in his blue eyes increasing.

Adam nods, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.

Lucifer purred, "It's said, he's looking for a mate. Somebody to make his own so he can breed."

“Breed?” Adam breathes out in confusion, “You mean he wants to impregnant a women?”

A laugh escaped Lucifer. He nuzzled his face into Adam’s chest, “Ah, Adam, you're so funny sometimes. He is an angel, the god of the backrooms, do you think it really matters of the gender? if he wants to knock somebody up, he will do it.”

“Oh,” Adam flushed, “That makes sense. So, he wants to have kids?”

“A family,” the blonde-haired man whispered, “He wants a family. he's tired of being alone and continuously being bored. he wants people who would never bore him.”

Adam’s mind spun at the implications of Lucifer’s words. The idea of Entity 1000, the god of the Backrooms, seeking companionship sent a strange mix of emotions coursing through him. It was a revelation that seemed so absurd yet profoundly human. He could hardly wrap his head around the concept of an entity so powerful yearning for something as simple and delicate as a family.

“Wait, so… he’s lonely?” Adam asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. The notion that even a god could feel such a fundamental human emotion was almost too much to comprehend.

Lucifer nodded, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and warmth. “Exactly. Even the most powerful beings can feel isolation. Can you imagine being so mighty yet so utterly alone? It’s a tragic irony.”

He paused, looking thoughtfully at the floor for a moment. “He watches the entities he created roam the Backrooms, and they’re all bound by their nature—tethered to their instincts, to their hunger. It must be so lonely when you’re the one who can’t play the game anymore.”

Adam felt a pang of empathy for the elusive Entity 1000. “But what kind of family would he want? I mean, could anyone truly fill that void for him?”

He pondered aloud, trying to reconcile the image of a nurturing figure with the fierce god who ruled the Backrooms.

Lucifer’s expression softened as he leaned closer, resting his chin against Adam’s chest. “It’s the idea of connection, Adam. It’s not just about creating life; it’s about the bonds that tie us together. Entity 1000 wants to share his existence with someone, anyone, who can challenge him, inspire him, make him feel alive again.”

A shiver ran down Adam’s spine at the thought. “That’s… kind of sad. For all the power he holds, he still craves companionship. It makes him seem more relatable.”

Lucifer chuckled softly, raising his head to meet Adam’s gaze once more. “Exactly! The most terrifying entities in the Backrooms often have the most tragic stories. It’s the duality of existence here—fear and loneliness, power and vulnerability. It’s what makes our experiences rich, even in this dark place.”

Adam nodded, absorbing Lucifer’s words. The Backrooms were more than just a labyrinth of horrors; they were also a reflection of the complex emotions and stories each entity carried. “So, if he’s looking for a mate, does that mean he’s a threat to us? Is he dangerous?”

Lucifer’s smile turned serious, his brow furrowing slightly. “That’s the concern. If he feels desperate enough, who knows what he might do? A god scorned can be more terrifying than any entity lurking in the shadows.”

“But remember, Adam,” he said, his voice softening again, “There’s always a balance. While Entity 1000 might seek something, it doesn’t mean he will lash out at everyone. Sometimes, understanding is the first step to survival.”

Adam took a deep breath, trying to absorb all the nuances of the conversation.

 “It’s a lot to take in,” he admitted, feeling the weight of the Backrooms pressing down around them. “I just want to explore and learn more about all of this. But it’s hard when every turn could lead to danger.”

Lucifer’s expression brightened, the mischief returning to his eyes. “That’s the spirit! Curiosity is your greatest asset, but let’s ensure it doesn’t lead you to peril. And speaking of curiosity, do you want to know a secret about Entity 1000? One that might not be so widely known?”

Adam’s eyes widened, filled with eagerness. “Absolutely! What is it?”

Lucifer leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s said that deep down, he can grant wishes. Not just any wish—your deepest desire, something that could change everything. But there’s always a catch, like all good stories.”

The thrill of the idea sent a rush of excitement through Adam.

“What kind of catch?” he asked, his heart racing.

Lucifer’s grin widened, revealing a hint of the darkness lurking beneath the surface. “The price could be steep. Sometimes it takes more than you’re willing to give. Perhaps your sanity, or the very essence of your humanity. You’ll never know until you ask.”

Adam swallowed hard, a mixture of fear and fascination swirling in his chest. The allure of making a wish seemed tantalizing, yet the danger loomed large. “So, it’s like a gamble?”

“Precisely!” Lucifer exclaimed; his enthusiasm infectious. “But isn’t that what life is about here? Taking risks, pushing boundaries, and embracing the chaos? You never know what you might discover about yourself along the way.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile, feeling the spark of adventure igniting within him. “You’re right! Even in this terrifying place, there’s so much to explore and learn. I guess that’s what keeps me going.”

Just then, he heard it—a soft, low scraping noise echoing from somewhere further down the corridor. Adam froze, his heart pounding as he tried to make out where it was coming from. It was faint, yet unrelenting, like something dragging across concrete. He turned his head, looking in the direction he heard the scraping sound but when he turned back to Lucifer, he found him gone.

“Lucifer?” he called in surprise.

Lucifer was no where in sight. Where had he gone?

The scraping sound grew louder, and suddenly, it clicked—whatever was making the noise was directly behind him.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he turned, coming face-to-face with a grinning shadow. It was tall, its limbs thin and elongated, and from the shadows, a single, ghastly smile gleamed white against the darkness. A Smiler. Its smile stretched impossibly wide, its eyes small and beady, glowing faintly as it watched him.

Panic surged, and Adam’s instincts screamed at him to run. But he remembered Lute’s instructions: Don’t panic, don’t turn away. Keep eye contact. Fighting the urge to bolt, he took a slow, deliberate step backward, his eyes never leaving the creature’s grin.

The Smiler didn’t move, but its smile widened, the unnatural grin stretching farther than seemed possible. Adam’s heart raced as he continued to back away, each step feeling like a precarious balance between life and death. He reached into his pocket, fumbling for his flashlight. Slowly, he pulled it out, angling it so that he could toss it as a distraction if he needed to.

Just then, another sound echoed through the corridor—a voice, low and firm. “Adam!”

It was Lute. Relief washed over him, and he didn’t dare turn, knowing the Smiler’s gaze was still fixed on him. Instead, he backed up faster, his steps guided by Lute’s voice until he could feel her presence beside him. She gripped his arm and, without a word, led him back toward the safety of the corridor they’d come from.

Only when they were several turns away from the Smiler did she finally release him, her expression a mixture of anger and relief.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she hissed. “That thing would have torn you apart if you’d moved wrong!”

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He was still shaking, the memory of that grin seared into his mind.

“I… I didn’t see it until it was too late,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Lute’s anger softened slightly, and she sighed. “Look, I know you’re curious about this place. But you have to understand—curiosity here is dangerous. I’ve lost too many people to this place, and I’m not about to lose you.”

Adam nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. “I’ll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Lute studied him for a moment before nodding. “Good. Let’s get back to the others.”

They made their way back through the dim corridors, the silence pressing in around them once again. Adam’s mind buzzed with questions, but for the first time, his curiosity was tempered with a newfound respect for the dangers lurking in the Backrooms.

Time slipped through Adam’s fingers like grains of sand. He couldn’t quite gauge how long he had been wandering the Backrooms with Lute and the others. Days or weeks felt irrelevant in a place where the very fabric of reality twisted and warped. He often caught glimpses of Lucifer, that beautiful blonde man whose presence ignited something warm within him. Each encounter was like a breath of fresh air amidst the stale atmosphere of the Backrooms.

Yet whenever he approached Lucifer and asked him to join his group, the response was always the same—a light laugh, a playful pat on the cheek, and the words, “I’d prefer not to.”

The softness of Lucifer's demeanour made it difficult for Adam to understand why he wouldn’t want to be part of a group that cared about him. Was it fear? A sense of duty? Each time Adam encountered him, he felt a twinge of disappointment but brushed it off, determined to keep asking whenever fate allowed them to cross paths again.

On the other hand, Lute’s reactions to Adam’s stories about Lucifer were less than enthusiastic. She grew increasingly irritated every time Adam mentioned his blonde-haired friend.

 “Adam, you need to be careful,” she warned, her tone laced with concern. “What if he’s just an illusion? An entity pretending to be someone he’s not? They can be incredibly deceptive. You could be walking into a trap.”

Adam sighed, feeling the weight of Lute’s protectiveness. She cared for him, he knew that, but it was hard for him to dismiss his feelings for Lucifer.

 “He’s not like that,” Adam insisted, a stubbornness creeping into his voice. “He’d never hurt me.”

“Really? And how can you be so sure?” Lute retorted, crossing her arms. “You hardly see him! It’s reckless to trust someone you know so little about.”

Adam shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I just know. Luci is my friend.”

Lute groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “You sound like a schoolgirl with a crush, Adam.”

The words hung in the air, and Adam paused in thought. A schoolgirl with a crush? Was that what this was? Did he… like Lucifer? The realization sent a flutter of excitement through him, but also a wave of confusion. Was it really a crush if he felt so deeply connected to this enigmatic figure? Every time he saw Lucifer, his heart raced, and a warmth spread through him that felt unlike anything else.

He pondered this new perspective as he wandered through the dim tunnels. Lute's warnings echoed in the back of his mind, mingling with the excitement that came from the thought of his bond with Lucifer. Perhaps it was naïve, but there was something undeniably comforting about their interactions—something that made the endless labyrinth feel a little less daunting.

As days blurred into nights, Adam continued to search for Lucifer. Each time they met, his heart would leap, and he’d feel a rush of joy at the sight of him. Whether it was Lucifer’s playful laughter or the way he seemed genuinely interested in Adam’s thoughts, those moments became a lifeline for him.

Still, the question of Lute’s concern nagged at him. Could Lucifer truly be an entity with ulterior motives? Every encounter felt genuine, yet the Backrooms were filled with treachery and deceit. He wanted to believe in the goodness he sensed in Lucifer, but the words of his friend weighed heavily on his heart.

“Maybe I do like him,” Adam murmured to himself one evening, his voice barely above a whisper. The thought brought a smile to his face, and he felt a warmth spreading through him at the idea. “…maybe I really do like him, much more then I thought…”

Adam found himself alone on a new level, a space that felt strangely devoid of the usual chaos that characterized the Backrooms. The silence wrapped around him like a heavy blanket, but rather than feeling frightened, he felt a sense of calm. It was a welcome reprieve after the adrenaline-fueled days spent with the Exorcists, who had grown to trust him more than he could have imagined. No longer was he tethered to Lute’s watchful eye; he had earned his freedom to scout alone, as long as he returned by a certain time.

As he settled against the cool, metallic wall, he reflected on the journey that had brought him here. He hadn’t encountered any entities or other humans since he entered this level. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but he didn’t mind. He had heard tales of this unexplored level from another group, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He had begged Rye and Mia to let him explore it, much to Lute’s dismay. But in a surprising twist, they had agreed to let him venture out on his own. Excitement had surged through him at the thought of being a true explorer in the Backrooms.

Yet, excitement could only fuel him for so long. The tiresome trek had taken its toll, and now his legs felt numb beneath him. As he took a moment to rest, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The stillness of the level allowed his thoughts to drift, and they inevitably wandered back to Lucifer.

A flutter danced in his chest, a subtle reminder of how much he liked the enigmatic blonde. Adam bit his lip, unable to suppress a smile as he thought of the way Lucifer’s laughter lit up the shadows of the Backrooms, making even the most unsettling environments feel a little less foreboding. In moments where he felt lost or scared, Lucifer’s presence always brought a strange comfort.

He imagined their conversations, the way Lucifer leaned in when he spoke, as if sharing a secret that only the two of them understood. It was those moments that made Adam's heart race, igniting a warmth that spread through him like a gentle flame. He didn’t understand entirely what he felt for Lucifer, but he knew it was something special.

As he sat there, lost in thought, Adam couldn’t shake the lingering worry that Lute’s warnings echoed in his mind. What if Lucifer was just an illusion? What if he was a clever entity that could easily devour his trust? But the thought felt hollow against the backdrop of his experiences with Lucifer. There had been no deception, no malice—only a connection that felt genuine, however improbable that seemed in the Backrooms.

Taking a deep breath, Adam opened his eyes and stared into the empty expanse before him. The shadows shifted as the dim lights flickered overhead, casting strange shapes on the walls. In that moment of solitude, he made a silent promise to himself: he would find a way to prove to Lute that his feelings for Lucifer were real, that the bond he felt wasn’t just a fleeting whim but something worth exploring.

As Adam sat in the eerie quiet of the unexplored level, his mind drifted into a vivid daydream, painting pictures of the one person who ignited his heart like no other—Lucifer. In his imagination, Lucifer came alive, stepping out of the shadows with that familiar warmth that seemed to wrap around him like a cozy blanket.

He could picture Lucifer’s blue eyes, striking and intense, glimmering like sapphires amidst the dim glow of the Backrooms. Those eyes had a mischievous spark, full of secrets and a depth that Adam longed to explore. The way they lit up when Lucifer laughed sent a jolt of exhilaration through Adam, leaving him breathless. He could almost hear the echo of that laughter, a sound that resonated in his soul and made him feel as if the world around him faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

With every memory that floated to the surface, warmth spread through Adam, starting in his chest and radiating outward like the gentle heat of a soft ember. He swirled where he sat, momentarily lost in the comforting thoughts. It was as if the shadows of the Backrooms could not touch him when he was thinking of Lucifer. He remembered the way Lucifer would lean closer, his soft blonde hair brushing against Adam’s arm, sharing stories about the entities that roamed their world. Those moments were precious, filled with a closeness that sent butterflies dancing in Adam’s stomach.

He recalled how Lucifer’s smile could brighten the darkest corners, effortlessly cutting through the dread that lurked in every shadow. It wasn’t just a smile; it was an invitation—a promise of safety and warmth in a place that often felt cold and unwelcoming. Adam felt a soft flush creep up his cheeks at the thought. The way Lucifer looked at him, with that blend of playfulness and genuine interest, made his heart race like it was trying to escape its confines.

With each thought of Lucifer, Adam’s resolve to be near him grew stronger. He wanted to share every experience, every moment of joy and fear in this unpredictable labyrinth. He found himself daydreaming about the adventures they could have together, navigating the twists and turns of the Backrooms as a team. He wanted to be the one who brought light to Lucifer’s world, just as Lucifer did for him.

But even beyond the allure of adventure, there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface. Adam felt an undeniable connection, a bond that transcended the dangers surrounding them. He liked how Lucifer’s presence grounded him, how it allowed him to feel things he hadn’t felt before—hope, curiosity, and even love. That realization sent a shiver down his spine, causing him to squirm a little where he sat, caught between the thrill of those feelings and the fear of what they might mean.

Lost in his thoughts, Adam rested his head against the cool metal wall, his heart thumping in rhythm with the warmth spreading through him. He felt almost giddy at the prospect of seeing Lucifer again, and with each breath, he envisioned the moment they would be reunited. There was something undeniably special about the way he felt, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their next encounter.

“Lucifer,” he whispered softly to himself, the name slipping past his lips like a cherished secret.

Adam squirmed as the warmth intensified inside him. He wiggled and glanced down at himself, a troubled pout spreading across his lip. Ah. Oh. A brilliant blush spread across his cheeks as he realized just thinking about Lucifer had set his body on fire. A stiffness began to appear between his thighs and Adam let out a soft whimper, his skin beginning to twitch and shudder with desire.

“Shit,” he whispered, glancing around himself again. It was just as empty and silent as before. “Um…”

Moving his hands wearily across his stomach, Adam peeked down at the hard bulge was beginning to form between his legs. His fingers trembled as he brushed them over the bulge, a gasp escaped him. His eyes fluttered shut as he began to touch himself further, rolling his fingers over the tent, a whimper beginning to leave his tongue.

“Oh,” he moaned, his mind beginning to conjure up the certain blonde that his body reacting like this to begin with.

He pictured Lucifer.

Lucifer against him, touching him, rolling his hips against Adam’s, whispering toe-curling words to him. Adam whimpered and gasped, lightly cupping himself and squeezing. He wished Lucifer was really here, he wished Lucifer liked him the way Adam liked him. He wondered what Lucifer would say or do if he knew what Adam was doing.

“L-Lucifer…” he moaned softly, beginning to press down a little more on his hidden cock.

“Yes?” a sudden familiar voice cooed.

Freezing, Adam’s eyes sprung open, and his breath leaped into his throat. Especially as he titled his head to find Lucifer crouched right next to him. The moment Adam looked at him, mortified that he was here, Lucifer beamed brightly.

“You called, Addie~” Lucifer sang, his blue eyes dark and glassy.

“I-I…” Adam stuttered, his whole body locking up in shock. “I-I, I…”

Lucifer giggled and shifted himself, moving to sit on his knees and his blue eyes sweep down Adam’s body. He gazed at the bulge between Adam’s thighs with a smile, “Do you want help with that?”

“W-What are you doing here?!” Adam let out high pitched, his face growing even darker then ever before.

“You called for me, remember?” Lucifer said in amusement. His hands creeping across Adam’s thighs and beginning to stroke his fingertips across the back of Adam’s hand, “Addie, let me help you. I made your body react like this, didn’t I?”

Mouth opening and shutting, Adam whined unable to come up with a reasonable sentence. His breath hitched when Lucifer moved closer to him, close enough that he felt Lucifer’s boy heat beginning to prickle across his side and making the hairs on Adam’s body stand up on end.

Curling his tender fingers around Adam’s, Lucifer removed his hand from the bulge and held onto Adam’s hand as his other hand began to run up his thigh. A soft hum escaped Lucifer, whimpering it as if to keep Adam calm and relaxed.

“You know I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you, Addie. I want to make you feel better, please let me~” he sang sweetly, tracing his fingertips over the bulge and making Adam inhale sharply, “Let me help you reach that release~”

Adam stared at Lucifer, his face was still bright red and his green eyes glassy, “…Lucifer? Is…is that really you?”

“What?” Lucifer blinked in surprise, tilting his head upward, “Of course it’s me. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Um…b-because…the entities, an entity could be using you to manipulate me,” Adam breathed out shakingly, “I just want to make sure it’s you and not something else.”

Lucifer's expression softened, and he stepped closer, the warmth radiating from him almost tangible in the chilly air of the Backrooms.

“Adam, I promise you, it’s me,” he said gently, his voice a soothing balm against the unease coursing through Adam’s veins. “I understand your fears; this place is filled with deception and shadows.”

“But look at me,” he urged, reaching up to cup Adam's face with his warm, calloused hands.

Adam felt his heart race as he gazed into Lucifer’s striking blue eyes, those familiar pools of light that always seemed to hold a wealth of secrets. “You’ve seen me vulnerable, haven’t you? You’ve seen my true self, the parts of me that are fragile and real.”

With every word, Adam felt his defences begin to crack.

“Y-yeah, but... you could still be a trick,” he whispered, struggling to keep his resolve. “You know how these entities work. They can wear any mask, twist any form.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed; his gaze unwavering. “You think I’d allow that? I wouldn’t let some other entity use my face, my voice, to manipulate you.”

“You mean too much to me for that,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. The sincerity in Lucifer’s words felt like a warm embrace, wrapping around his heart and squeezing gently.

 “Choosing to be here with you. Choosing to connect with you.” Lucifer leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “You’re not just another human in this twisted place, Adam. You’re different. You see things, feel things that others overlook. Your curiosity, your compassion—those things matter to me. I want to help you.”

The warmth of Lucifer’s breath ghosted across Adam's lips, igniting a thrill deep within him.

“I…I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, the vulnerability spilling out before he could stop it. “Not like everything else I’ve lost in this place.”

“You won’t lose me,” Lucifer replied softly, brushing his thumb across Adam’s cheek. “I promise I’ll protect you as much as I can. I’m not just some figment of your imagination or a cruel trick of this world. I’m real, Adam. I’m right here.”

The sincerity in his voice began to melt away the lingering doubts in Adam's mind. As they sat there, locked in each other’s gaze, a profound sense of trust began to blossom between them, fragile yet beautiful.

“Okay,” Adam breathed, taking a step back to gather himself. He gulped thickly, “O-Okay…”

“I can touch you?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes,” Adam said bravely, “Please touch me, Luci.”

Lucifer purred, his eyes growing darker and hungrier. He cupped his hand firmly over Adam’s hidden cock and watched intensively as Adam jumped, “Addie, you’re so hard~”

His hand began to caress the cock through the jeans, rolling his fingers purposely. Lucifer’s gaze never left Adam’s face, watching every reaction he made. He slid his hand upward, catching the zipper to Adam’s black hoodie and unzipped it. Lucifer’s fingers then pushed underneath his t-shirt, touching the soft flesh underneath, caressing the sensitive flesh of Adam’s under stomach.

Gasping, Adam trembled as Lucifer rolled his fingers downward, pushing underneath he waistband of Adam’s jeans.

“Adam,” Lucifer’s voice called sweetly, “I’m going to touch you now.”

Adam's eyelids fluttered, a symphony of sensations enveloped him. He whimpered and bit down on his bottom lip, glancing down his body and watching Lucifer’s hand. His body tingled with an electric anticipation, a sweet torment that left him breathless and wanting.

A soft gasp escaped his lips as he felt the heat of Lucifer's touch, a delicate exploration that set his soul ablaze. His chest rose and fell in sync with the rhythm of their shared breaths, a silent symphony of desire echoing in the air.

“Have you touched yourself?” Lucifer whispered, sliding his hands further downward. “Since entering the backrooms?”

Adam bit down on his bottom lip, his nerves dancing as he felt Lucifer’s touch, “No. Not in the backrooms.”

“So you’re backed up,” Lucifer purred, trailing his fingers even further inside Adam’s boxershorts, “What about outside the backrooms? How often did you touch yourself then?”

Lucifer’s hand was slow and delicate, sliding with care over the hair of his manhood. Adam jumped, gasping and tried not too but squirmed despite himself. 

“Of course I did,” Adam licked his lips and Lucifer immediately looked at his mouth, “I touched myself, um, often.”

Lucifer grinned, “Good to know you have a healthy sex drive then. Have anyone touched you like this before?”

“No,” Adam’s breath hitched when Lucifer’s hand suddenly touched his cock fully, “I’ve never had any luck with other people. Nobody likes me.”

Snorting, Lucifer frowned and watched as his hand touched Adam finally, brushing his fingertips along Adam’s penis. Lucifer’s own breath became trapped in his throat as Adam’s expression changed from the touch, the greenness of Adam’s eyes deepening in a sign of lust, something Lucifer had been yearning to see.

“Their lose then.”

Adam’s mouth opened but then clamped shit again and his eyebrows creased as if he was trying to dissect this new sensation. It felt so different to his own hand.

When Lucifer curled his hand fully around Adam’s penis, he gasped and moaned out. Lucifer giggled and slid his hand further up the sensitive spots of Adam’s cock, rolling his fingertips back and forth. Lucifer moved his hand slowly and delicately, rubbing his fingers skilfully. He watched Adam’s every reaction to his touch, making sure to burn it into his mind so he would never forget. When Adam appeared to relax further, his muscles unclenching, Lucifer slid his hand all the way up to the tip of the penis and back down repeatedly. 

“Does it feel good, Addie?” he whispered, leaning closer to Adam’s face, “Are you feeling good?”

Another moan escaped Adam and looked at Adam, his chest beginning to heave heavily. His hips beginning to rock up into Lucifer’s hand.

“Does it feel good, come on Addie, tell me?” Lucifer cooed, speeding up his touch.

Adam gasped, arching his back. He stared into Lucifer’s lovely and handsome face, watching as a soft blush appeared on Lucifer’s own cheeks. He couldn’t help himself; he leant forward and kissed Lucifer. Pushing his lips against Lucifer’s with another whimper escaping him.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, having not expected Adam to even attempt to kiss him. He immediately began to kiss Adam back, pushing him further into the wall he was sitting up again, while at the same time, he began to aggressively rub Adam’s cock.

“You’re close, aren’t you Addie~” Lucifer whispered against Adam’s mouth, “You’re so close aren’t you Addie, don’t fight it~”

Adam swallowed thickly; his mouth much too wet all of a sudden. His vision was beginning to blur from unleashed tears.

“Come for me, Addie~”

He pushed his mouth against Adam’s again, pushing his soft tongue into Adam’s. His hand caressed Adam’s cock more, forcing Adam to ride out his climax. Their lips moved together almost desperately, Adam’s tongue having no other choice but to dance with Lucifer’s. 

His hips were trembling, Adam felt as if his whole body was quivering. His insides twitching, jolting back and forth, unsure where it should settle. The orgasm hit him all at once. He had never had an orgasm like that before.

“You’re so cute Addie,” Lucifer cooed, withdrawing his hand.

Adam wheezed sharply, practically sobbing from his climax. He pulled Lucifer back into a kiss, his hands cupping Lucifer’s cherry-shaped face and whimpering as their tongues danced.

“Luci, Luci,” Adam chanted, pulling back with a bridge of saliva between their lips, “Can – Can I touch you too? Can I do something in return? Please let me?”

The warmest, sweetest dazzling smile curled across Lucifer’s face. His blue eyes seemed to glint, shimmering otherworldly and gave a sharp nod, “Of course you can, in fact, I would love for you to touch me.”

Touch?

Adam swallowed thickly and began to kiss Lucifer again. From the moment he met Lucifer, he found him too clean, too neat, too soft and angelic. Adam wanted to dirt him up, even just a little. His hands became tangled up in Lucifer’s t-shirt, tugging it upward slightly as he continued to kiss the blonde man.

It was just so Lucifer, fully and completely. He smelt lovely and Adam pushed Lucifer back onto his backside. His hot warm beginning to slide down Lucifer’s throat, running his teeth along the soft pale, flawless flesh. He ran his mouth over Lucifer’s t-shirt and then began to kiss and nip at Lucifer’s exposed stomach.

“Addie,” Lucifer whispered, clocking his head with a delicious pink face, “Oh, Addie, you’re so cute and beautiful~”

Hands tugging at Lucifer’s blue jeans, Adam pulled back to unbutton them and Lucifer raised his hips. Adam gently licked at Lucifer’s hidden cock, feeling it stir underneath his tongue, feeling it begin to harden. Tenderly, Adam eased Lucifer cock out and immediately began to lick at it. His warm lips making soft kisses along the heated skin.

A groan escaped Lucifer, his head flopping all the way back. He spread his thighs further and moaning as Adam began to bob his head, running his lips back and forth along Lucifer’s hard cock. He sucked on the tip and then sunk his mouth back down.

“Addie, you’re such a good boy like this. So pretty and endearing, with your cute lips wrapped around my cock~” Lucifer teased, running his fingers through Adam’s thick hair, “I knew you were the one, the moment I first met you, I know you were mine. You were the one I’ve been waiting for, you’re so special and precious.”

Adam groaned at the words, closing his eyes and just focusing on sucking Lucifer off. He wanted Lucifer to feel good.

“My Addie~” Lucifer purred, arching hips as he felt himself reaching that point, “Fuck, Addie, you’re making me come~”

He froze as he felt Lucifer come. Adam’s green eyes brightened as he pulled and swallowed the bitter liquid in his mouth. He met Lucifer’s eyes and smiled shyly, “Did that feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” the blonde man purred, fixing his cock back into his jeans and then pulling Adam into another kiss. His tongue plugging into Adam’s mouth hungrily, “Addie, you’re so perfect for me.”

Adam’s breath hitched as Lucifer’s warm hand rested on his stomach, his touch soft but possessive, fingertips brushing lightly over his skin as though savouring every inch. Lucifer hummed, his voice low and almost melodic, eyes fixed on Adam’s stomach with a strange, adoring gleam.

“Oh, Addie,” he murmured, stroking slow, gentle circles. “You feel so soft, so perfect. Just imagine… seeing you round and lovely, holding something so precious… something of mine.”

Adam’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he squirmed under the touch, his mind whirling. “Luci… I’m a guy, remember? That’s… that’s not exactly possible.”

Lucifer’s grin widened, the warmth in his smile shifting into something sharper, almost otherworldly, as though he were looking at Adam with an unquenchable hunger.

“Ah, but dreams are allowed, aren’t they, Addie?” he whispered, his voice wrapping around Adam’s senses like silk. “And you—you’re like a dream come to life.”

Adam’s blush deepened, his gaze flicking to his stomach as a strange, sweet warmth filled him.

“You… really like the idea of that?” he asked shyly.

With a dazzling smile, Lucifer dropped to his knees, inching closer as he leaned Adam against the wall. His hands framed Adam’s hips, holding him in place, his eyes gleaming with something intense and deep. Gently, he nipped at Adam’s lower lip, the soft pressure of his teeth sending a shiver through him.

“Oh, yes, Addie,” he whispered, his voice like a promise. “I want to see you full, glowing, carrying a part of me. I want you as mine, with a family of our own. And I’ll never let anything take you from me, not now… not ever.”

Adam’s heart pounded, feeling caught in the pull of Lucifer’s strange, intoxicating affection, a warmth that left him feeling claimed and protected all at once, bound by a love that felt timeless yet dangerously unyielding.

Adam’s heart thudded painfully in his chest as he felt the cold realization settle over him. Lucifer’s hand on his stomach, the odd look in his eyes—it all started to make sense in a way that terrified and captivated him.

“L-Luci…” he stammered, feeling the shiver trace up his spine, “Are… are you…”

Lucifer tilted his head, an innocent gleam in his eyes, though his smile didn’t reach them. “Am I what, Addie?” His voice was soft, the tone almost tender, but there was a faint edge that left Adam feeling exposed, as though he were standing on the edge of something vast and incomprehensible.

Swallowing hard, Adam pressed his lips into a thin line. His gaze didn’t waver as he forced himself to meet Lucifer’s eyes, his voice a trembling whisper.

 “You’re not human, are you?” Adam breathed; his voice barely audible. “You’re… you’re Entity 1000, aren’t you?”

Lucifer’s smile grew, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips as he raised a hand, fingers grazing Adam’s cheek with unsettling gentleness. His touch was as warm as it was chilling.

“Oh, Addie,” he murmured, his voice slipping into that familiar, melodic purr, “Does that frighten you?”

 His thumb brushed over Adam’s cheekbone in a way that could’ve been comforting, but there was something behind it, an intent he couldn’t quite place. Lucifer’s blue eyes sparkled, the depths of them seeming endless, almost as if they held all the secrets of the Backrooms within their depths.

“Or… does it make you curious?”

Adam shuddered, torn between the part of him that wanted to pull away and the other part, the one that held onto every word, fascinated despite himself.

Lucifer’s grin stretched wider, an eerie gleam lighting up his twisted features as his six, towering wings loomed over Adam. They were far from angelic, looking torn and demonic, with edges that flickered as though glitching in and out of reality. His blue eyes had darkened, swirling with crimson and gold, and from his head sprouted sharp, twisted horns, cracked at the top, forming a hauntingly beautiful yet sinister halo.

Adam’s breath hitched, his eyes wide with terror as he pressed himself back against the wall, heart pounding erratically. The charming smile he’d known was replaced with something terrifying and intense. Lucifer’s entire form exuded an overpowering energy, one that left Adam feeling small, trapped, and utterly vulnerable.

Lucifer leaned in close, his twisted grin revealing rows of glittering, razor-sharp teeth.

“Are you frightened, Addie?” he whispered, his voice curling around Adam like a shadow, chilling and entrancing all at once. “I wanted you to see me as I truly am.”

Adam swallowed, his entire body trembling. He nodded faintly, his mind racing with what Lute had warned him about—Lucifer was more than just a friend, more than a mysterious companion. He was an entity, the most powerful, and everything he’d ever feared in the Backrooms. He created this endless nightmare to amuse himself. A small whimper escaped Adam’s lips.

“Were you just… using me for entertainment?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Lucifer cupped Adam’s face, his touch both unsettlingly gentle and possessive.

“No,” he cooed, his voice softening as he gazed into Adam’s terrified eyes. “I didn’t use you, Addie. I felt you the moment you entered the Backrooms. You called out to me, remember? You introduced yourself, and I knew then—you were mine.”

Adam’s pulse quickened, panic mixing with an odd feeling he couldn’t quite place, something that left him speechless.

“W-What do you want?” he stammered weakly, unable to break away from Lucifer’s intense gaze.

Lucifer’s smile twisted into something darkly possessive, his eyes glinting with an otherworldly hunger.

“I want to make you mine completely,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a guttural, dangerous tone. “I want to breed you, Addie, to fill you with my essence and create something that’s ours.”

“I-I-“

“Addie, I’m going to breed you, now.”

[junosartz]

day 2

awww they're bonding.

[darkkone]

Urban legends👁️👅👁️

[scruffyragdoll]

Adamsapple harvest

Day 15: Rainy Day 🌧️