#adamsapple month

[rainforestakiie]

Adamsapple Month Harvest

Pumpkins~

@adamsappleweek

whoa! i got it finished it in time! i wanted to write more and i might come back to this idea later! but for now, enjoy a creepy pumpkin twist! hope you all like it!

For as long as Adam could recall, he had dwelled in the shadowy embrace of Hallow-Eve, a town steeped in autumn's eerie charm. He had never ventured beyond its mist-shrouded borders; his family’s roots run deep in the soil of this peculiar place.

Even during their rare escapades, they merely retreated to the heart of the town, seeking solace at Miss Sera's Inn, where the air was thick with the whispers of the past. Hallow-Eve revelled in the spirit of Halloween year-round, its streets adorned with gnarled pumpkins and sinister decorations, dismissing the likes of Christmas or Easter. Instead, they celebrated with a chilling twist—exchanging sweets nestled in coffins for Easter and gathering around a 'dead tree' come winter, its branches draped with ghostly ornaments.

Adam had only ever known life on the town's enchanting pumpkin patch, a sprawling expanse of vibrant orange nestled among shadows, where townsfolk flocked daily in search of the most haunting harvests. While he supposed there was never a mundane moment amid the revelry, a weariness clung to him like a thick fog, suffocating his spirit.

He longed for the warmth of a traditional Christmas, the intoxicating aroma of a festive feast wafting through the air, instead of the relentless onslaught of skeletal decorations and pumpkin pies. Halloween’s nightly escapades, filled with children donning ghastly costumes, left him yearning for the innocent delights of chocolate eggs and lavish dinners that never seemed to grace their table.

It was as if Hallow-Eve existed in an eternal autumn, with summer and winter shunning its gloomy charm. The trees stood in perpetual decay, their leaves a tapestry of gold and crimson, forever caught in the throes of a hauntingly beautiful fall, the air crisp and unyielding.

Leaning against a towering stack of pumpkins, Adam's piercing green eyes surveyed the patch, glistening under the pale light of a waning moon. In a matter of hours, families would arrive, their excitement palpable as they sought the most spine-chilling pumpkins to carve. His mother, with her uncanny knack for the macabre, often hosted spirited carving mornings, teaching eager youngsters the art of transforming innocent gourds into grotesque visages. Renowned for her chilling creations, she wielded her carving knife with a flair that sent shivers down spines, bringing the town's Halloween spirit to life in the most haunting of ways.

A black crow suddenly soared overhead, its ominous shadow flitting across the ground before it landed directly in front of Adam. With a haunting croak, the bird flapped its sleek, obsidian wings, bobbing its pointed head as if sizing him up. Adam frowned, a wry smirk creeping onto his lips as he regarded the feathered omen. “I don’t suppose you’re here to warn me of misfortune?” he teased dryly. “Black crows are notorious harbingers of bad luck.”

The crow squawked again, flapping its wings and pecking its long beak beneath its wing, as if unconcerned by Adam’s quips. Clicking his tongue in dismissal, Adam turned away, a soft hum escaping his lips. In Hallow-Eve, it was common knowledge that a black crow’s appearance foreshadowed calamity. His grandmother had been the sort to throw salt at the birds whenever they crossed her path, and don’t even get him started on the folklore surrounding black cats.

Returning to his duties, Adam began inspecting the pumpkins, removing the rotting ones or the less desirable specimens. It was hard work, and while he had once relished tending to the vibrant gourds as a child, a suffocating boredom now clouded his enthusiasm. He craved something more, a taste of adventure beyond the confines of his routine.

“Adam!” a melodic voice called, pulling him from his reverie. His mother waved him over, beckoning him toward the towering wooden archway adorned with a macabre display of skulls and bone-like decorations.

“Can you come here for a moment?”

With a sigh, Adam straightened up, tugging off his gloves and tossing a small pebble aside. He approached the archway, the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves lingering in the cool air. As he emerged from the wall of pumpkins, he noticed three figures standing with his mother. One appeared noticeably shorter than the other two, and he squinted, trying to discern the peculiar scene.

“Adam, come meet our new neighbours!” His mother beamed, excitement dancing in her eyes. “They’ve just moved in.”

Just moved in?

Adam’s eyebrows shot up at the revelation. He’d never heard of anyone moving to or from Hallow-Eve; it was a town steeped in tradition, and this was utterly new.

“Hi,” he mumbled, shifting to stand beside his mother.

He blinked awkwardly, taking in the sight before him. The shorter figure seemed older than the two taller females. The blonde girl, with her cascading golden curls and flawless porcelain skin, could easily be mistaken for royalty—save for the unsettlingly vibrant red of her lips and the strange way her cheeks seemed to glow. For a fleeting moment, he could have sworn they both had red circles on their cheeks and no noses, but when he blinked, they were just… normal.

Weird.

The other girl was a stark contrast, with her long, thick braids of purple and grey that cascaded down her shoulders. She was slightly shorter than the blonde, sporting a hooked nose and soft, grey eyes that held secrets. Her black lips curled into an expression that straddled the line between a smile and a frown, leaving Adam uncertain of her feelings.

“Hello!” the shorter man exclaimed cheerfully, thrusting a gloved hand toward Adam. “Nice to meet you! I’ve just moved in with my daughters!”

Adam hesitated, eyeing the man’s gloves, which appeared oddly oversized, hinting at something more claw-like beneath the soft fabric. When his mother nudged him with her elbow, he sighed and reluctantly extended his hand. He jolted in surprise as the man’s grip tightened around his, nearly yanking him off his feet.

“My name is Lucifer!” the man declared, his eyes twinkling with mischief as a soft blush painted his cheeks. “This is my daughter, Charlie!”

The blonde girl beamed widely, her eyes sparkling with an unsettling charm that sent shivers racing down Adam’s spine. Dazed from the force of Lucifer’s handshake, he could only nod.

Charlie chirped, bouncing on her feet with an energy that felt almost infectious, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“And this is Vaggie, my daughter’s girlfriend, but I’ve taken her under my wing as my daughter as well!” Lucifer added, gesturing proudly to the purple-haired girl beside him. He flashed a bright grin at her, and Vaggie returned it with a delighted smile that still felt shrouded in mystery.

Adam slowly nodded, bewildered. He pulled his hand to his chest, stuttering slightly, “Wait, did you say Lucifer? Like, the devil?”

The look on Lucifer’s face sent a chill down Adam’s spine, his cherry-red lips curling back to reveal a row of sharp, gleaming teeth. His blue eyes sparkled with an unsettling allure, his long lashes fluttering as he leaned closer.

“Yes,” he hissed, his forked tongue slipping between his lips in a way that made Adam’s heart race. “Exactly~”

“But don’t worry, compared to what it looks like, he doesn’t bite,” Charlie joked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Lucifer gasped dramatically, turning to his daughter with mock horror. “Don’t say that, Charlie! I like biting!”

The two burst into laughter, and even Adam’s mother joined in, her voice light and melodic. Vaggie, however, still smiled but facepalmed with a groan, leaving Adam feeling like an outsider in a bizarre joke he didn’t quite understand. He took a step back, a strained smile plastered on his face as the odd energy radiating from the new family felt too peculiar to bear.

Lucifer’s gaze bore into him, as if he were contemplating a delicious meal. As if reading Adam's thoughts, Charlie flashed a wide grin that revealed too many sharp teeth, her eyes gleaming like a predatory cat.

“Um, right…” Adam laughed awkwardly, glancing at his mother in disbelief.

His eyes screamed, ‘Are you seeing this bullshit?’ but his mother seemed blissfully oblivious to the spectacle unfolding before her.

“Er, I... I think I’ll go... you know, get back to work…” Adam stammered, desperate to escape from this sharp-toothed stranger who was eyeing him as though he were a delectable morsel. “Because, you know, these pumpkins won’t prepare themselves for the kids.”

His mother shot him a look that was both perplexing and disconcerting, one he couldn’t quite decipher and truly didn’t want to. He took another awkward step back, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave toward his bizarre new neighbours, preparing to make his escape.

“Oh! Please wait!” Charlie exclaimed, her delicate hand darting forward to grasp Adam's arm. Damn, she had her father’s strength, practically yanking him off his feet. “We’re actually here to pick up a couple of pumpkins; you can help us choose some, right?”

Adam’s green eyes widened in disbelief, a knot of dread tightening in his stomach. That was the last thing he wanted. He had no intention of spending time with them, not at all!

“I have to be honest; we don’t know a thing about pumpkins,” Lucifer chimed in cheerfully, perhaps a bit too cheerfully, his grin stretching wide enough to reveal his unnerving teeth. “We’ve got rocks for brains~”

Adam’s mouth opened in protest, the words of refusal hanging on his lips. He had too much work to do and didn’t want to deal with them. But as he caught sight of his mother’s face, which brightened with an unexpected glimmer of relief, his resolve began to waver.

“Of course! Adam would be thrilled to help you all out, wouldn’t you, Adam?” she said, her voice a strange mix of encouragement and something else he couldn’t quite identify.

Faced with that knowing look, Adam felt his stubbornness melt away. His cheeks flushed crimson as he noticed all three of his new neighbours’ eyes fixed intently on him. With a deep, resigned sigh, he nodded, gesturing for them to follow.

“Um, sure, yes, just… follow me,” Adam mumbled quietly, his heart racing as he led the way into the patch, feeling the weight of their curious gazes on his back.

His skin prickled with unease, every hair on his body standing on end as he led the trio down the winding pumpkin patch trail. A palpable sense of danger loomed in the air, as if something predatory lurked just beyond his peripheral vision, ready to pounce. Fear coiled tightly in his throat, making it hard to swallow.

Adam felt like a timid mouse, surrounded by three hungry cats—each one more menacing than the last. The weight of their gazes felt like a tangible force, pressing down on him, and he was filled with an overwhelming urge to bolt, to flee from the chilling atmosphere that seemed to thrum with unspoken threats. He had never experienced such a sensation before, the instinctive drive to escape prickling at his every nerve, urging him to run from the impending danger.

As Adam guided them into the sprawling rows of pumpkins, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the ground beneath his feet was somehow shifting with each step, as if the earth itself were alive and aware. Charlie’s reaction was immediate and infectious. She gasped, her eyes widening like bright, gleaming orbs of wonder, and she squealed with pure delight that echoed through the crisp autumn air. Her smile was so radiant, so sweetly innocent, that for a fleeting moment, Adam found himself questioning whether he had judged them too harshly at first.

“Look at all the pumpkins!” Charlie exclaimed, her voice a melodious chime as she clasped Vaggie’s hand, practically bouncing on her toes. “They’re stunning! Absolutely perfect!”

Vaggie chuckled, a warm, rich sound that wrapped around Adam like a comforting shawl.

“Calm down, babe, or you’ll lose your hair,” she teased, rolling her eyes affectionately.

Charlie pouted for a second before pressing a soft kiss on Vaggie's cheek, her exuberance bubbling over as she practically dragged her deeper into the patch, fully intent on selecting the finest pumpkins. Adam couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Vaggie, watching her struggle to keep up with Charlie's electrifying energy. Yet there was a glow on Vaggie’s face, a happiness that seemed to radiate like the golden autumn sun, making Adam second guess his first impression of her.

But as they ventured further into the patch, leaving Adam momentarily isolated, he suddenly realized he was not alone. The air around him felt charged, and he stiffened under the weight of Lucifer's gaze, intense and unwavering. Adam turned his head to meet those striking blue eyes, deep and captivating like twin oceans swirling with secrets. An involuntary shiver danced along his spine as Lucifer broke into a grin, one that sent a fluttering thrill through Adam’s chest.

“Um,” Adam stuttered, sheepishly smiling back, unsure of how to bridge the strange silence enveloping them.

Desperate to dispel the eerie tension, he glanced around, his eyes landing on another black crow that had landed behind Lucifer, its glossy feathers glinting ominously in the fading light. The crow flapped its wings, adding an unsettling rhythm to the moment.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, Adam blurted out, “So, where did you live before moving to Hallow-Eve Town?”

Lucifer rocked on his heels, a low hum escaping his lips as he considered the question.

“Somewhere far away,” he mused, his voice smooth and melodious. “You’ve never been there before. It’s not like Hallow-Eve.”

Intrigued, Adam pressed, “What do you mean?”

With a fondness that surprised Adam, Lucifer’s gaze drifted across the autumnal landscape, lingering on the fiery hues of leaves swirling in the crisp breeze. “The place I came from was very hot and humid. It’s different from Hallow-Eve Town,” he replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I like it very much.”

A chill skittered down Adam's spine at Lucifer’s words, the way he spoke made the hairs on the back of Adam’s neck stand on end. “I can’t say I agree with you,” he admitted awkwardly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact.

Instantly, Lucifer’s expression sharpened, those azure eyes widening as they locked onto Adam’s. “You don’t like Hallow-Eve Town?” he asked, his tone almost conspiratorial, as if he had uncovered a secret. “Do you want to leave, then?”

The way he asked it felt like a victory, as if he had struck gold in the midst of their strange exchange. Adam felt a heat rise to his cheeks as he sheepishly shrugged, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I guess I don’t want to stay here… I really want to leave.”

Lucifer’s grin widened, revealing those sharp, gleaming teeth once more, as he leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with intrigue. “Where would you go? Somewhere hot?”

Adam paused, a flutter of uncertainty swirling in his chest. Somewhere hot? He had never truly contemplated a destination, only the fervent desire to escape. He released a soft hum, his thoughts swirling like the autumn leaves dancing around them. The idea of venturing somewhere beyond the pumpkin patch, away from the creeping shadows of Hallow-Eve Town, ignited a flicker of hope within him.

“I— I don’t know,” he finally admitted, glancing away, as if the weight of Lucifer’s gaze would pin him to the earth. “I’ve just… always wanted to go.”

With that, the air thickened with unspoken possibilities, the autumn night closing in around them like a velvet curtain, leaving Adam teetering on the precipice of something both thrilling and terrifying.

Adam hesitated, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips as he shifted on his feet.

“Yeah, maybe somewhere hot,” he mused aloud, letting his imagination wander. “I could see myself enjoying the sun... maybe a place where the warmth seeps into your bones and the nights are still.”

Lucifer’s pleased hum broke through the crisp autumn air, almost like a purr of satisfaction. The sound was unsettling, too intimate, as though Adam had unknowingly revealed something far deeper than a passing thought.

Lucifer's piercing blue eyes never wavered from Adam’s face as he asked, his voice low and curious, “Would you ever come back? To visit your family, I mean.”

The question caught Adam off guard, and he frowned, giving Lucifer a strange look.

“Of course I would,” he replied, confusion lacing his tone. “I love my family. Sure, they can be a bit... much sometimes, but they’re still my family.”

Lucifer’s grin stretched wide, his sharp teeth glinting in the soft light of the fading day.

“I like that,” he said, his voice rich with approval. “A family man. That’s perfect.”

The way Lucifer said "perfect" made Adam’s skin crawl, a strange mixture of flattery and something darker curling around the word. It felt like there was a hidden layer beneath his words, something Adam wasn’t catching. He opened his mouth to ask what Lucifer meant, but before he could, Charlie’s excited voice pierced the air.

“Dad! Come here, you’ve got to see these pumpkins!” she called, her voice like honey, dripping with enthusiasm.

Lucifer’s grin deepened, and without a moment’s hesitation, he turned and strode toward his daughter, leaving Adam standing alone in a swirl of confusion. Adam stared after them, feeling a sense of unease creep into his bones. It was as though a vital piece of the puzzle had slipped through his fingers, something important, something he should have caught but didn’t.

Awkwardly, he trailed after Lucifer, his steps slow and hesitant, his mind still trying to wrap itself around the strange interaction. His eyes flickered toward Vaggie, who was standing just beyond the rows of pumpkins, her purple-and-grey braids swaying slightly in the breeze. As his gaze met hers, he noticed something odd—her eyes held an emotion he hadn’t expected: pity.

Adam’s confusion deepened, his brow furrowing. Why would she look at him like that? Did she know something he didn’t? He wanted to ask, but the weight of her gaze made him feel even more out of place. He tore his eyes away from her, glancing back towards his house at the edge of the pumpkin patch.

His stomach twisted as he spotted his parents standing on the porch, their arms crossed, silhouettes dark against the dimming sky. He was too far away to make out their expressions, but something about their posture made a chill creep down his spine. They were just standing there, watching—watching him, Lucifer, the whole scene. The air around the house seemed to thrum with a strange, unsettling energy.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, Adam’s eyes lifted to the roof of the house. His breath caught in his throat.

A dozen black crows had gathered there, their sleek, inky feathers shimmering in the dying light. They stared down at him, silent and still, their dark eyes glinting like polished onyx. It was as if they were waiting for something, their presence an ominous, creeping shadow over the house. Adam’s heart hammered in his chest, a gnawing sense of dread settling in his gut.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to himself, the words barely audible.

The crows didn’t move, their eerie stillness amplifying the strange, heavy atmosphere that had been building all afternoon.

Adam’s mind raced, the strangeness of it all closing in around him. He didn’t know what was happening, but something in his gut told him this day wasn’t like the others. Something was shifting, and he was at the centre of it, though he couldn’t see how—or why.

He swallowed hard, feeling as though the world was watching him, waiting for him to make the next move. And as Lucifer’s voice floated back to him on the breeze, that same low, pleased hum, Adam couldn’t help but feel like he was being pulled deeper into something he didn’t fully understand. Something dangerous, something he might not be able to escape from once it had fully wrapped its tendrils around him.

Adam was ripped from his spiralling thoughts at the sound of his name, the touch of a hand sending a jolt through his body like ice water down his spine. He jerked around, blinking furiously as his gaze landed on Lucifer, standing much too close for comfort, his hand resting lightly on Adam’s arm.

The touch burned, though it was cold, and Adam bit his bottom lip nervously, trying to suppress the strange fluttering that came with it. His eyes darted awkwardly from one face to another, realizing all three of them—Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggie—were staring at him again.

“Er… yes?” Adam managed, voice a bit too high, sheepish as he shifted under their combined gazes.

Lucifer’s pout was almost cartoonish, lips pursed in a teasing mock of disappointment. “What’s got your attention, Adam?”

His voice was smooth, too smooth, like silk wrapping around his name. Lucifer’s eyes flickered toward Adam’s house, the movement almost imperceptible, but Adam followed the glance instinctively.

He turned just in time to see the murder of black crows on the roof take off all at once, their wings exploding into the air like thunderous shadows, spiralling into the darkening sky. The sight was eerie, unnatural, as if the crows had been waiting for some silent cue. The flurry of feathers and ominous cawing made Adam’s blood run cold.

Lucifer snorted beside him, an amused sound that seemed too casual for the unsettling scene.

“Don’t pay attention to crows, Adam,” Lucifer teased, his grin widening as he tugged at Adam’s arm with surprising strength, pulling him away from the sight. “They flip-flop all the time—never can decide what they want.”

Adam barely had time to process Lucifer’s words before he was being dragged—rather forcefully—toward Charlie and Vaggie, who were still standing in the pumpkin patch. Charlie’s face lit up when they arrived, her smile bright and innocent, though something about it sent a shiver down Adam’s spine. Vaggie, always the quieter one, still had a small smile on her lips, but her gaze was steady, a little too knowing.

“Do you like apples, Adam?” Charlie chirped, bouncing on her heels as she reached out to pick up a small pumpkin, cradling it like a prize.

“No, not really,” he said, unsure why the question had been asked. Adam blinked; his confusion clear on his face.

Lucifer chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the autumn air, but he said nothing, though his grin deepened, almost feral. Adam’s frown deepened in response, wondering if he was the butt of some joke he didn’t understand.

Vaggie shook her head, still smiling, and nudged Charlie playfully.

“Stop teasing him,” she chided lightly, though her own chuckle betrayed her amusement.

Adam furrowed his brow, glancing between them. “What’s going on? What’s so funny?”

Charlie waved her hand dismissively, still giggling. “Oh, it’s just an inside joke. Don’t worry about it!”

She grinned wider, eyes twinkling with mischief, and before Adam could pry further, she pointed to a large, misshapen pumpkin with a crooked stem. “I want that one.”

Adam blinked, staring at the pumpkin with a perplexed look. “You sure? It’s… kind of ugly.”

Vaggie snorted beside him, nodding her head in agreement. “I’m with Adam on this one, it’s not exactly winning any beauty contests.”

Charlie gasped dramatically, clutching Vaggie’s arm in mock offense.

“How dare you gang up on me with Adam!” she exclaimed, but her laughter broke through, her voice light and airy. She looped her arm through Vaggie’s, giggling as Vaggie leaned in to kiss her cheek teasingly.

Adam couldn’t help but smile at their playful affection, the sweet way they moved together like a pair of dancers caught in their own private rhythm. For a moment, the weight of the eerie atmosphere lifted. There was something undeniably charming about the way they looked at each other, like they were in their own world.

But just as Adam began to relax, that gnawing sense of unease slithered back in. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he became acutely aware of Lucifer’s gaze once more. It was intense, almost predatory, and when Adam met his eyes, he was caught in them—blue and impossibly deep, like staring into the abyss of an ocean.

Lucifer wasn’t smiling anymore. His expression was unreadable, but those eyes… they burned with something. Something that made Adam’s heart race, not with excitement, but with fear.

A cold sweat formed at Adam’s temples, and his throat tightened as he tried to break the spell Lucifer’s gaze had cast. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, and Adam suddenly wished he could disappear into the earth like the pumpkins they were surrounded by. There was a weight in Lucifer’s stare, something that made Adam feel like prey—like he was being sized up, toyed with.

His mouth went dry as he forced out a nervous chuckle, trying to break the tension.

“So, you really like that pumpkin, huh?” he said, addressing Charlie but feeling Lucifer’s presence looming beside him, a shadow that refused to go away.

Lucifer finally grinned again, but this time, it was slower, more deliberate.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, his voice almost a purr, low and sweet. “There’s something… perfect about it, wouldn’t you agree?”

Adam’s stomach flipped as he glanced at the misshapen pumpkin. It wasn’t just the pumpkin Lucifer was talking about, was it?

~#~

The following weeks were strange—too strange. Adam couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something off, something sinister weaving itself into the fabric of Hallow-Eve Town. The air had turned thick and heavy, almost oppressive, as though the atmosphere itself was conspiring to smother any sense of normalcy. The clouds hung lower now, swollen and dark, blocking out the sun more often than not, casting long, eerie shadows over the town. It wasn’t just the weather either; something darker, more intangible, had crept into the town. The shift was subtle but unmistakable, like the sensation of being watched when you’re certain no one is there.

And then there was the strangest part of all—Adam. Or rather, the way people had begun to treat him. It hurt more than he’d expected, like a knife slowly twisting in his chest. He’d grown up here, known these people his entire life, and yet suddenly, it was as if they no longer saw him. People who used to greet him with smiles and nods, who would chat with him on their porches or wave as they passed by, now acted like he didn’t even exist. It was like they were ghosts, or maybe he was. The town’s children, once eager to run up to him, to beg him to play guitar, now hurried past with vacant eyes, their laughter hollow, distant. No one met his gaze, no one asked him how he was doing, no one cared.

It was painful. Adam felt adrift, as though some invisible force had severed his ties to the town he once called home. He couldn't shake the suffocating feeling of isolation.

One afternoon, desperate for some kind of connection, Adam picked up his pace when he spotted Lute and Emily, the twins who’d been his childhood friends. They were as much a part of his life as the pumpkins in the fall or the first snowfall in winter. Surely they wouldn’t ignore him too, right? His heart lifted for the first time in days, and he called out to them, waving with a hopeful smile.

"Lute! Emily!" His voice sounded too loud, echoing unnaturally in the stillness of the street.

Lute didn’t even acknowledge him. Emily glanced at him for a fleeting second, her eyes unreadable, before turning her back and walking off, Lute following her without a word. Adam came to a halt, his chest tightening, the familiar ache of rejection spreading through him. His hands dropped limply to his sides, the air around him growing colder. He muttered to himself, “What did I do? Why am I losing my friends?”

The sting of tears pricked at his eyes, and he wiped them away roughly with his sleeve, not wanting to cry in the middle of the street. It hurt more than he cared to admit. But just as the loneliness started to suffocate him, a dry, familiar voice broke through the fog.

“It’ll get easier. Eventually, it won’t hurt at all.”

Adam blinked, startled. He hadn’t even noticed Vaggie standing there, her presence as sudden as a shadow slipping into view. She was leaning against a post, her grey bomber coat zipped up to her chin, the silver cross on her chest gleaming faintly in the muted light. Her braids swayed slightly as she pushed herself off the post and walked up to him, hands stuffed in her pockets.

“I didn’t notice you there,” Adam admitted, surprised by her words. He tried to smile, but it faltered.

Vaggie returned the smile, though hers was sharper, more knowing.

“People like us, we’re used to being ignored.” She gestured for them to walk together. “You look like you could use the company.”

Adam gave a small, grateful smile. “At least someone’s still willing to talk to me.”

Vaggie shrugged, her hands still buried deep in her pockets. “Don’t worry about them. It just proves no one here really cared about you in the first place. They can all fuck off.”

The sudden vulgarity from her caught Adam off guard. He hadn’t expected it from her, someone who always seemed so composed.

“You swear?” he asked, half amused, half surprised.

Vaggie raised an eyebrow and grinned slightly. “I do when it’s deserved. And trust me, they deserve it.”

Adam chuckled softly, the sound more sad than amused, and they fell into step together, the autumn streets unusually quiet. The carved pumpkins lining the sidewalks stared back at them with jagged, crooked grins, their hollow eyes flickering with candlelight. Everywhere they walked, the pumpkins watched, their expressions twisted, as if they knew something Adam didn’t.

Vaggie’s voice broke the silence again. “You can talk to me, you know,” she said, her tone softening. “I’ve been through something similar.”

Adam glanced at her curiously. “How similar?”

Vaggie sighed, her breath fogging in the chilly air. “Let’s just say that everyone I thought cared about me—family, friends—they turned on me the moment it suited them. Threw me under the bus to save themselves.”

Adam winced, the pain in her voice hitting too close to home. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything to me,” Vaggie snorted, though there was no bitterness in her tone. Still, Adam couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m just sorry you had to go through that,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

Vaggie smiled again, this time a little softer. “You’re a nice person, Adam. Too nice for this place.”

As they walked, the conversation turned lighter. They passed by more pumpkins—hundreds of them—each more grotesque than the last, their grins sharp and menacing.

“I didn’t care for pumpkins at first.” Vaggie confessed, her cheek turning pink. “I didn’t care for a lot of things until Charlie. She made me see the beauty in them.”

Vaggie’s face softened in the dimming autumn light as she spoke, her voice carrying a wistful note that Adam hadn’t heard from her before. "It’s been a long time now, me and Charlie," she said, her gaze distant, almost lost in memory. A faint blush crept over her pale cheeks, and her usual cool demeanour melted away like frost in the morning sun. “She was there when I needed someone the most. When everything felt like it was crumbling, when I didn’t think I had anyone left... she was there. No questions, no judgments. Just open arms.”

Adam smiled softly, teasing just enough to lighten the mood. “You must really love her, huh?”

Vaggie gave a half-shrug, her expression unreadable for a moment.

“I didn’t at first,” she admitted, her tone more vulnerable than Adam had ever heard from her. That caught his attention, and he tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked, curiosity piqued. He couldn’t imagine anyone not loving Charlie instantly—she was so full of life, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Vaggie sighed, her breath curling in the cool, thickening air. The pumpkins that lined the streets seemed to flicker with a ghostly light as she spoke, their crooked smiles and jagged teeth casting eerie shadows on the cobblestones.

 "It’s complicated," she said, her voice quiet, almost as if confessing to something she hadn’t shared with anyone in a long time. “For a long time, I resented her. Blamed her for... a lot of things. Things that weren’t even her fault. But I was hurting, and it was easier to be angry at someone than face what was really going on inside me.”

Adam frowned, slowly processing her words. There was an unspoken weight in her voice, a history thick with pain and regrets. He didn’t push for more, sensing that whatever had happened was something deeply personal, something that had shaped her in ways he couldn’t begin to understand.

“But Charlie...” Vaggie continued, her eyes growing distant as she spoke of her past, “Charlie never gave up on me. No matter how cold or distant I was, she stayed. She was kind, patient. She didn’t try to fix me—she just... she was there. She saw something in me when I couldn’t see it in myself.”

Her lips curled into a soft smile, almost bittersweet. “Eventually, I realized my life had become so much better because of her. She chose me, and I’d rather spend my days happy with her than be stuck in my own darkness.”

Adam stared at Vaggie, his heart warming despite the chill creeping through the air. There was something deeply moving about the way she spoke of Charlie, like the two of them were bound by something far stronger than mere affection—a kind of love that had been forged in the fire of hardship, shaped by resilience and trust. He found himself envying that connection, that deep, unwavering loyalty.

But before he could ask her more, a familiar, excited voice cut through the air, breaking the moment like the snap of a brittle twig.

“Adam! Vaggie!”

Charlie’s voice rang out with infectious joy, and when Adam glanced up, he saw her bounding toward them, practically glowing in the fading light. Her smile was radiant, her golden hair bouncing as she hurried toward them, and just behind her, as always, was Lucifer.

And of course, Lucifer was staring at Adam again. His intense, unnervingly blue eyes never seemed to leave him, watching him with a gaze that felt too sharp, too knowing. It was like being caught in the gaze of a predator—silent, patient, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

When was he not watching me? Adam thought with a shiver, his pulse quickening under that piercing stare. He tried to shake off the unease, telling himself it was all in his head, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore the way Lucifer’s presence seemed to suffocate the air around him.

Charlie skipped toward Vaggie, her steps light and playful as autumn leaves crunched beneath her feet. In her hand, she held a small brown bag adorned with pink bows—delicate, almost childish, but in Charlie’s hands, it radiated a sweetness that made the dreary streets of Hallow-Eve Town feel just a little brighter.

"You have to try these apple slices," Charlie said with a breathless excitement, practically bouncing as she reached Vaggie. Her voice sparkled with enthusiasm. "They're so good!"

Vaggie smiled, a rare softness touching her lips as she watched Charlie. Her grey and violet hair swayed gently as she leaned in closer, her dark eyes glimmering with fondness.

“Oh yeah?” she teased, glancing at the bag with curiosity.

Charlie didn’t miss a beat, quickly retrieving an apple slice covered in sugar and cinnamon from the bag. She held it up in front of Vaggie, the sugary coating catching the dim light like a dusting of frost.

“Here,” Charlie said, almost shy, her voice sweetening like honey.

Instead of taking it, Vaggie leaned forward, sinking her teeth into the apple slice right from Charlie’s hand. The crunch echoed faintly in the cool air, and Vaggie’s lips curled into a smirk as she chewed. Charlie gasped, a blush blooming across her cheeks, her eyes wide and bright. There was something almost adorable about how flustered she got, like the simple act of feeding Vaggie had caught her off guard. She blinked, then beamed at Vaggie, the pink in her cheeks deepening.

Adam, standing just a few steps away, couldn’t help but smile, even as a pang of sadness twisted in his chest. Watching the two of them, their love so obvious, made him feel a strange mix of warmth and loneliness.

“It’s really good,” Vaggie said softly, her voice carrying a hint of affection. Charlie’s eyes flickered to Vaggie’s lips, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.

“Can I...?” Charlie whispered, her voice trailing off, leaving the question hanging in the cool air between them.

Vaggie didn’t answer with words. Instead, she leaned in, closing the space between them as Charlie’s eyes fluttered shut. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, one that seemed to momentarily pause the world around them. Adam quickly turned away, his face flushing with bashful awkwardness, trying to give them their privacy.

Just as he did, though, a warm hand gently cupped his elbow, pulling him out of his own thoughts. The touch was soft yet firm, guiding him up the street. Adam’s heart skipped a beat as his green eyes met the deep, intense blue of Lucifer’s.

There he was again.

Lucifer grinned, his golden hair catching the faint light of the streetlamps, giving him an almost ethereal glow. He held up a small brown bag, identical to the one Charlie had been carrying.

“Don’t worry, Adam,” Lucifer said in a voice that was both playful and unnervingly soft. “I got you something too. Pumpkin slices, your favourite.”

“You... didn’t have to,” he stammered, feeling a strange flutter in his chest. Adam blinked in surprise, his cheeks warming despite the chill in the air.

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he reached into the bag, pulling out a pumpkin slice dusted with cinnamon.

“I know,” Lucifer replied, his voice lowering to a velvety purr. “But I wanted to.”

Before Adam could protest, Lucifer held the slice up to his lips, much like Charlie had done for Vaggie. The air between them thickened with an odd tension, something that felt both sweet and unsettling all at once. Adam hesitated, his heart racing, but then he leaned forward, biting into the pumpkin slice.

As the warm, spiced flavour spread across his tongue, Adam’s gaze dropped to the cobblestones, too flustered to meet Lucifer’s eyes.

He mumbled a quiet “Thanks,” his cheeks burning with embarrassment. When he dared to glance back at Lucifer, he noticed the blonde was still staring at him, a look of almost surprised warmth softening his sharp features.

Lucifer’s blue eyes widened briefly, then his lips curled into a slow, gentle smile that made Adam’s chest tighten in an odd way. Lucifer lifted the rest of the pumpkin slice to his own lips and—without warning—bit into it, finishing what Adam had started.

“Sorry,” Lucifer said, chuckling softly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Adam’s face turned even redder as the realization hit him—Lucifer had just shared an indirect kiss. He swallowed hard, his heart beating too fast, his mind whirling.

“It’s... it’s fine,” he mumbled, desperately trying to ignore the way his gaze kept flicking to Lucifer’s cherry-red lips.

Lucifer watched him for another heartbeat, his gaze intense, searching, before finally looking away, seemingly satisfied with Adam’s response. He turned to glance at Charlie and Vaggie, who were still wrapped in each other’s arms up the street.

“What were you two doing before this?” Adam asked shyly, trying to break the tension, his voice a little unsteady.

“We were just out doing some grocery shopping,” Charlie beamed at him, still holding Vaggie close.

Vaggie leaned her head against Charlie’s shoulder, her usual stern demeanour softening in the glow of Charlie’s affection. “Do you need a hand in taking the bags home?”

“Don’t worry about it Vaggie!” Lucifer chimed. “They’re already back at the house!”

 “We were about to head home now.” Charlie sang before gasping, her eyes widening gleefully. “You should come with us!”

“Yeah, you should,” Vaggie agreed, though her voice was quieter, more casual.

“Wait, your groceries are already back at the house?” Adam blinked in surprise. “But... your place is, like, an hour and a half from here. How...?”

Before he could finish, Lucifer squeezed his hand—when had he taken Adam’s hand? —and grinned up at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucifer said with a wink. “We’re efficient.”

Adam wasn’t sure what to make of that, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted as Lucifer’s grip tightened slightly.

“Come have dinner with us,” Lucifer said, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive whisper. “I’d love for you to join us.”

“Dad’s the best cook! You must try his pancakes, Adam!” she begged, bouncing excitedly on her heels. Charlie squealed in agreement, her golden eyes sparkling with hope.

Even Vaggie, usually more reserved, smirked and added, “They’re damn good. Best pancakes you’ll ever have.”

Adam hesitated, still feeling the weight of the town’s strange coldness toward him, the way people had started to ignore him. But here, with these people—the odd, charming, and slightly unsettling family—he felt... wanted.

Adam smiled, albeit shyly. “Pancakes are for breakfast.”

“Pancakes are an anytime food, Adam,” he said, his grin wide and infectious. Lucifer snorted in amusement.

Charlie clapped her hands, practically glowing with excitement. “Please say you’ll come!” she begged, her voice full of warmth and sincerity.

Lucifer leaned in just slightly, his voice soft but compelling. “Please.”

Adam’s resistance crumbled. How could he say no?

“Okay,” he said, his smile widening. “I’ll come.”

Charlie cheered, her joy infectious, while Lucifer’s blue eyes sparkled with something more intense, a warmth that lingered just a moment too long. Adam couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just crossed some invisible threshold, and there was no turning back.

The crows cawed ominously overhead as they walked together into the deepening twilight, and the shadows seemed to stretch a little longer behind them.

~#~

As they walked through the dim, winding streets, the dying light of the autumn sun fading behind jagged rooftops, Adam couldn’t help but feel at ease. Talking with Lucifer, despite his unsettling name and the sharp, enigmatic aura he seemed to carry, was unexpectedly comforting. The crisp Halloween air swirled around them, carrying the faint scent of smoke and pumpkin spice, but the chill wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, Adam found the warmth in Lucifer’s presence more soothing than he'd anticipated. He had definitely misjudged him.

Their hour-and-a-half-long walk felt like a strange, enchanted passage, where time stretched in peculiar ways. It was as though the shadows grew deeper, the streets quieter, but within that eerie silence, Lucifer’s soft humming provided an odd sense of peace. Up ahead, Charlie and Vaggie had broken off, giggling to each other like a pair of mischievous ghosts, leaving Adam and Lucifer trailing behind in a more intimate solitude.

Adam glanced at Lucifer, who was kicking a small stone out of his path with casual indifference. His voice, when he spoke, was gentle, almost too quiet for the cool evening air.

“Charlie’s mother didn’t want her.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and dark, like a cloud of mist creeping through the barren trees. Adam winced as they hit him, feeling a sudden surge of regret for even asking. He stammered out an apology, his mind racing as he realized he had wandered too far into sensitive territory.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—"

Lucifer’s smile was soft, warm despite the cold sting of his revelation.

“It’s fine, Adam,” he assured him, his blue eyes meeting Adam’s with surprising tenderness. “It’s been a long time... and I’ve never really had anyone to talk to about Lilith.”

Adam blinked, taken aback by Lucifer’s openness, and the mention of that name made his stomach twist. He tried to shake off the unease, but Lucifer seemed to notice. With a playful chuckle, he leaned in slightly, nudging Adam with his shoulder, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I can tell what you're thinking,” Lucifer mused, grinning slyly.

Adam flushed, his face heating up despite the cold that lingered in the air. “I-I’m not thinking anything!” he insisted, flustered, trying to look anywhere but at Lucifer.

“You’re wondering if everyone I know is named after a demon,” Lucifer said, his voice rich with amusement.

“I wasn’t!” he lied, but the way Lucifer’s sharp grin widened told Adam he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Well,” Lucifer's eyes twinkled with mischief, his voice dipping to a playful purr, “You’ll just have to stick around and find out.”

Adam swallowed hard, feeling his heart skip a beat. His throat tightened, and before he could stop himself, he muttered shyly, “I... might.”

Lucifer didn’t miss a beat. He reached out again, curling his fingers around Adam’s hand, and squeezed gently. The contact sent a jolt through Adam, not unpleasant but unexpected, like a spark of static in the crisp October air.

“I was with Lilith for a short time,” Lucifer began, his tone softer now, almost reflective. “I was lonely... and she was looking for something—or someone—to entertain her. But when she became pregnant, everything changed.”

Adam’s breath hitched, and his gaze flicked toward Charlie, who was still walking ahead, blissfully unaware of the conversation behind her. He couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting Charlie in their life. Her joy was infectious, her kindness so bright that it almost hurt to think about her being unwanted.

“Lilith didn’t want the child,” Lucifer continued, his voice growing heavier. “I had to beg her not to...”

Adam gulped, feeling the weight of what Lucifer was about to say. His heart raced as he thought of Charlie, her sunny demeanour masking what must have been deep hurt.

“Not to abort her,” Lucifer finished, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though the words themselves were a curse.

Adam’s eyes widened in shock, the cold autumn air suddenly feeling a little more biting. He could only imagine the desperation Lucifer must have felt, pleading for the life of his daughter. And then, to his horror, he learned the price.

“Lilith only agreed to carry Charlie to term on one condition,” Lucifer continued, his voice tightening slightly.

“I had to give up half my King—” He stopped, catching himself before he revealed too much, then quickly added, “Half my estate.”

“She sounds like a... gold digger,” Adam muttered, trying to process the cruelty of it all. He blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“That’s exactly what she was,” he replied with a sharp edge in his voice. Lucifer snorted, a dark, bitter chuckle slipping through his lips. “She got what she wanted, and once Charlie was born, she slammed the door. Never looked back.”

Even though Lucifer spoke with a casual tone, there was something broken in his words. Adam could feel the weight of those memories pressing down on him. And then, the final blow—Lucifer spoke of how Charlie, years later, had gone searching for her mother, yearning for a connection that Lilith would never give.

“When Charlie finally went looking for her... Lilith didn’t want to know her. Didn’t even want to look at her.” Lucifer sighed, a deep, weary sound. “Charlie was heartbroken. But Vaggie helped, more than I could ever thank her for.”

Adam exhaled slowly, the knot in his chest loosening slightly. Relief washed over him knowing that Charlie had Vaggie by her side during that painful time. He couldn’t bear the thought of Charlie—bright, joyful Charlie—being so hurt.

Without thinking, Adam squeezed Lucifer’s hand, offering him silent comfort.

“Charlie’s lucky to have you,” Adam said softly. “You’re... a wonderful father.”

Lucifer stopped walking for a moment, blinking in surprise. His usual mischievous grin faded, replaced by something far more genuine—something vulnerable. He looked at Adam, a blush creeping up his cheeks, as though the compliment had caught him off guard.

“I...” Lucifer started, his voice almost shy, a rare crack in his confident exterior. His lips curled into a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Adam.”

As they continued walking together, the shadows seemed to close in around them, the eerie glow of jack-o’-lanterns flickering from porches and windows, casting long, twisted silhouettes that danced along the ground. Despite the creeping darkness, there was something warm between them—something real and tender beneath the surface.

And for the first time in a while, Adam felt... not so alone.

Lucifer’s fingers remained firmly intertwined with Adam’s all the way to his house, and no matter how much Adam tried to rationalize it, he couldn’t ignore the fluttering warmth in his chest. It was absurd. Maybe Lucifer was just naturally touchy-feely, and Adam was overthinking it. The man was clearly lonely. After all, Adam had learned that Lucifer’s past was a tangled mess of betrayal and heartbreak. No family to speak of beyond his daughter, and, apparently, no friends. So perhaps this was just… friendly.

But then, why did his heart keep racing every time Lucifer smiled at him?

By the time they turned the corner and reached their destination, Adam’s train of thought came screeching to a halt. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed up at the house—a towering, three-story Victorian marvel painted a rich, velvety red. It was framed by a glossy black roof, the eaves lined with elegant filigree and ivy that curled like skeletal fingers around the trim. Massive, arched windows with intricate latticework peeked out like watchful eyes from every floor, glowing faintly in the dusky light.

But it was the front yard that stole his breath completely.

Dozens of jack-o’-lanterns grinned wickedly up at him, filling the garden in rows and clusters, each one meticulously carved with its own unique expression. Some were twisted and monstrous, with gaping maws and crooked, wicked smiles; others were hauntingly beautiful, delicate patterns of swirling vines and spiderwebs etched into their skins. The flickering candlelight inside them seemed to dance and sway, casting eerie, shifting shadows across the yard and up the house’s red facade, making the entire place look as if it were caught in a ghostly, enchanting dream.

Adam could only gape, utterly stunned. He’d carved pumpkins every year with his mom, and she was the best pumpkin carver he knew. But this—this was something otherworldly.

“You… you live here?” Adam finally managed to choke out, his voice filled with awe.

Lucifer’s grin was smug, sharp as the crescent moon rising behind them. “Impressed, are you?”

Adam nodded; his eyes wide. “Of course I am! This is—this is amazing!”

Charlie, who had skipped ahead, spun around to face him, her blonde curls bouncing. She beamed at Adam; her smile as bright as the jack-o’-lanterns surrounding them.

“We love trying new things! We’re so happy you like them!” she chirped, practically glowing with excitement.

Adam blinked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wait—you’re saying… you’ve never carved pumpkins before this?”

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a knowing glance, sharing a secret smile.

“Yeah,” Vaggie replied with a nonchalant shrug, brushing a stray lock of silvery hair behind her ear. “This is the first time we’ve ever really touched a pumpkin. We only started after moving to Hallow-Eve Town.”

“You’re amazing,” Adam’s jaw dropped, the words slipping out before he could think.

Lucifer squeezed his hand, and Adam jolted, looking over at him. The blonde’s eyes glinted with a dark, playful light, and his grin widened.

“Oh, we have many skills, Adam,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, velvety purr. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto Adam’s, teasing and intimate. “I’m sure you’ll come to learn them all—if you’re brave enough, that is.”

Adam felt his face flush hot. The sudden tension between them crackled like the air before a thunderstorm, sending shivers down his spine. Was he reading too much into this? Or was Lucifer actually…?

Lucifer just smirked, guiding him through the wrought-iron gates and up the cobblestone path. The gate creaked shut behind them with a soft, ominous groan. As they stepped onto the wide, shadowed porch, Adam’s attention was drawn to two dark figures sitting in front of the grand, lacquered doors.

Two black cats, their eyes gleaming like twin emeralds in the gloom, were perched on the stoop, staring up at them. Their sleek fur blended seamlessly into the creeping shadows, but the flick of their tails and the faint glow of their watchful eyes betrayed them.

“Black cats?” Adam murmured, surprised. Black cats were bad omens, a symbol of curses and ill fortune—especially on Halloween night.

But Charlie and Vaggie scooped the cats up without hesitation, cuddling them to their chests.

“This is Razzle and Dazzle!” Charlie introduced them proudly, cooing to the cats as they purred in her arms. “Aren’t they sweet?”

Adam couldn’t help but smile a little. “Razzle and Dazzle? Those are… unusual names for cats.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Charlie named them when she was little,” he explained, shaking his head as if recalling some fond, exasperating memory. “She insisted they needed ‘sparkly’ names.”

“That makes sense,” Adam said softly, watching as the two girls disappeared into the house, the cats nuzzling into their arms. “They’re cute.”

Charlie glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “We’re going to finish up some homework before dinner!” she called, her voice echoing through the foyer.

“Okay! I’ll call you when dinners ready!” Lucifer called after her.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Vaggie paused at the base of the staircase, turning back to Adam and offering him a small, genuine smile. “We’ve been looking forward to it.”

Adam blinked, caught off guard. “Oh—um, thanks. I’m happy to be here, too.”

Charlie’s grin widened, and she gave him a quick wave before the two disappeared up the winding staircase, Razzle and Dazzle perched in their arms like living shadows.

Lucifer’s hand slipped from Adam’s, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Come,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. “Let me show you around.”

Adam nodded dumbly, following Lucifer deeper into the house. The grand corridor stretched before them, lined with high, arched doorways and rich, dark wood panelling. And on the walls… Adam’s breath caught.

Paintings. Dozens of them. But not the eerie portraits of long-dead ancestors or the grim landscapes he would have expected. These were… different. Angels, bathed in ethereal light, their wings spread wide and luminous. Scenes of heaven, of divine glory and celestial battles. The artistry was breathtaking, almost blinding in its beauty, yet there was something unsettling beneath the perfection. The eyes of the angels seemed too sharp, too knowing. Their smiles were serene, yet their gazes held a strange, predatory hunger.

“You—” Adam swallowed hard, glancing at Lucifer, who was watching him with a dark, secret smile. “I… didn’t think you were into religion.”

Lucifer’s grin turned wicked, his eyes flashing with something wild and dangerous.

“Oh, Adam,” he purred, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “I’m not.”

“But sometimes,” he whispered, his lips curving into a sharp, predatory smile. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving Adam’s, “I like to pretend the stories are true.”

A shiver ran down Adam’s spine, a mix of fear and something darker, something thrilling. And as Lucifer’s blue eyes bore into his, Adam couldn’t help but wonder what other stories the man liked to pretend were real.

Lucifer led Adam into the kitchen, and the moment Adam stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat. The room was enormous, gleaming under the soft glow of pendant lights that hung like eerie moons over the countertops. Every surface sparkled, polished to a mirror-like finish. The stainless-steel appliances reflected the light in cold, sharp glints, giving the whole space an almost sterile perfection. It was ten times the size of Adam’s own kitchen back home—no, more. It was the kind of kitchen you'd expect in a mansion, a place fit for a king. Adam couldn’t help but wonder just how rich Lucifer really was.

Noticing the awe-struck look on Adam’s face, Lucifer smiled smugly and stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. His fingers trailed up Adam’s arm in a slow, deliberate motion, the lightest touch that sent a shiver of sensation rippling across Adam’s skin. When Lucifer’s hand reached Adam’s chest, his fingers began to toy with the buttons of Adam’s coat. Adam gasped softly, startled by the intimacy of the gesture.

Lucifer's eyes twinkled with feigned innocence as he tilted his head, his voice a teasing whisper. "You don’t have to wear your coat indoors, Adam. Why don’t you take it off?"

Adam flushed, his face turning a shade of pink that matched the warmth now flooding the kitchen. He glanced down at himself, realizing the heat had seeped into his bones the moment they’d entered the house. He nodded shyly, fingers fumbling for the buttons of his coat, but before he could begin to unbutton it, Lucifer took his hands.

“Let me,” Lucifer whispered, his voice low, almost a purr.

Adam’s heart leaped into his throat, his mouth opening to respond, but nothing came out. He stood frozen, rooted to the spot, as Lucifer slowly undid each button of his coat, the sound of fabric brushing against fingers the only thing breaking the silence. With an almost reverent touch, Lucifer tugged the coat from Adam’s shoulders, the fabric sliding down his arms like a heavy, inevitable weight being lifted.

Lucifer hummed softly, his eyes sweeping across Adam’s form in a way that made Adam feel exposed, vulnerable. His fingers grazed the oversized shirt Adam wore beneath the coat, tugging at the hem with a playful flick.

“There,” Lucifer murmured approvingly. “Isn’t that better?”

Adam, flustered, could only nod, folding his arms awkwardly as he stood there, unsure what to do. Lucifer took the coat from him, moving with graceful ease to hang it up in a nearby cupboard. Adam watched him, his gaze following the sleek lines of Lucifer’s form until the man shrugged off his own coat, revealing something that made Adam blink in surprise.

Lucifer was wearing a Halloween-themed sweater—bright orange with a little cartoon duck in a witch’s hat plastered on the front. The sight of it, so unexpected and oddly adorable, made Adam quickly avert his gaze, but not before Lucifer caught him staring. A smug smirk curled across Lucifer’s cherry-red lips, his eyes glinting with mischievous amusement.

Adam fidgeted nervously, trying to find something—anything—to distract himself from the intensity of Lucifer’s gaze.

“Why did you choose to move to Hallow-Eve Town?” he asked softly, almost to himself. “Surely it wasn’t because of the pumpkins, right?”

Lucifer, now whistling a light, haunting tune, stepped up to one of the many pristine counters. He reached for an apron—one that, to Adam’s surprise, matched his sweater with more little ducks—and slipped it over his head, tying it neatly at his waist. The apron was frilly, white and red, with a cute little bow that sat snugly at Lucifer’s lower back. Adam blinked, wondering how someone could switch from eerie to adorable so seamlessly.

Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal pale arms with strange, dark patches that dusted his skin like shadows, Lucifer glanced at Adam. The markings caught Adam’s eye, but he quickly looked away, not wanting to be rude.

"No reason, really," he said in that same playful, lilting tone. Lucifer hummed as he tied the final knot. "We won’t be here for long."

Adam furrowed his brow, the cryptic answer making him uneasy. "Are you… planning to move again soon?"

Lucifer smiled, a slow, wicked curl of his lips. "Something like that. We came here to retrieve something." His voice dropped to a low, almost sinister murmur.

A chill crept down Adam’s spine at the way Lucifer said that—"retrieve something." It sounded ominous, like something out of a dark, forgotten legend. Adam shivered, resisting the urge to ask more, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

Before Adam could dwell on it further, Lucifer snapped his sharp teeth playfully in the air, his blue eyes gleaming with a predatory light.

"Come closer," he teased, his grin widening. "I don’t bite."

“You said you liked to bite.” Adam pointed out.

Lucifer purred. “In the bedroom, I meant~”

Adam swallowed hard but managed to breathe in deeply, steadying himself. He stepped up beside Lucifer, his heart still racing.

"Can I help with anything?" he asked, eager to do something—anything—to distract himself from the tension hanging in the air. He didn’t want to just stand there while Lucifer did all the work.

Lucifer cooed softly in admiration, his hip pressing lightly against Adam’s in a casual, almost intimate gesture.

"That’s very sweet of you, Adam," Lucifer purred. His hand grazed Adam’s side as he handed him a bowl filled with fresh ingredients. "I appreciate the offer."

Adam smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. Despite everything—the cryptic comments, the playful snapping of teeth, and the tension that seemed to swirl like shadows around Lucifer—he was happy to help. He liked being useful. Besides, the kitchen felt warm and welcoming now, despite the eerie undercurrents of the house.

As they began working side by side, the tension in the air seemed to settle into something more comfortable, more familiar. Adam couldn’t help but glance at Lucifer every now and then, catching the faintest smile or the sly glint in those sharp blue eyes. There was something about the man—something both unsettling and irresistibly alluring.

And Adam wasn’t sure if he should be afraid of that or if he liked it.

As the two continued their playful banter, the air between them grew thick with an undeniable tension, charged like the crackle before a storm. Lucifer, ever the tease, slid closer to Adam’s side, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every second of their proximity. Adam felt the subtle heat of Lucifer’s body as he leaned in, the smell of cinnamon and cloves clinging to the air between them—a scent that seemed almost too sweet, too tempting for someone so dangerous.

Lucifer’s fingers curled over Adam’s hand, guiding it towards the cutting board. His grip was firm, yet strangely gentle, his skin cool to the touch but leaving a trail of warmth where their hands connected. Adam's breath hitched as Lucifer pressed closer, his body lightly brushing against Adam’s side. The contact sent an involuntary shiver racing down Adam’s spine, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. The heat crept all the way up to his ears as he felt Lucifer’s chest pressing into his back, close enough that every breath Lucifer took seemed to sync with his own.

"Careful now," Lucifer murmured, his voice a low, sultry whisper that sent a ripple of sensation through Adam.

His breath ghosted over Adam’s cheek, cool and soft like a breeze that carried whispers of something darker, something dangerous.

 "Hold the knife like this…" His fingers wrapped around Adam’s hand, tightening just enough to guide the blade as it hovered over the vegetables.

Adam’s heart pounded against his ribcage, the thrum of his pulse quickening under Lucifer’s touch. He swallowed hard, focusing on the feel of the blade rather than the man pressing against him. But it was impossible to ignore the way Lucifer’s breath tickled his skin, how close his lips were to the side of Adam’s neck—so close it felt like a dare, a tantalizing threat lingering just out of reach.

Lucifer’s voice dipped lower, a playful growl behind his words. "If you’re not careful, you might just nip your fingers. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?"

His lips hovered near Adam’s ear, as if sharing a secret. His tone was rich with amusement, the sharpness of it cutting through the air like the very blade Adam was gripping.

Adam blushed even harder, his entire body reacting to Lucifer’s presence, every nerve alight.

"I-I’ll be careful," Adam stammered, his voice unsteadies, betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

His hands felt clumsy under Lucifer’s guidance, but with every movement, Lucifer’s touch steadied him, controlling the knife with such ease it felt like second nature.

"Good," Lucifer purred, his lips brushing ever so slightly against Adam’s ear, sending another electric shiver down Adam’s spine. "We wouldn’t want to ruin those pretty hands of yours."

The compliment, whispered so close, made Adam’s breath catch in his throat. He could feel Lucifer’s smile, could sense the way he was enjoying every second of this, pushing the boundaries, seeing how far he could go before Adam would pull away. But Adam didn’t pull away. Instead, he let himself be drawn in, feeling both trapped and comforted by Lucifer’s presence.

For a fleeting moment, everything else fell away—the eerie atmosphere of the house, the distant rustling sounds of the wind against the windows, even the faint creaks of the old floorboards beneath their feet. It was just the two of them in that moment, Lucifer's cool, almost predatory presence coiled around Adam like smoke. It was intoxicating, dangerous—but it was also undeniably thrilling.

Lucifer’s fingers finally released their hold on Adam’s hand, but he didn’t move away. His presence lingered, almost as if he was waiting for something. Adam exhaled shakily, his heart still pounding, trying to steady himself. He focused on the knife in front of him, his fingers shaking slightly as he continued to chop the vegetables, all the while acutely aware of Lucifer’s gaze, of the way those sharp blue eyes traced every movement.

"You’re a fast learner," Lucifer praised, his voice a velvet purr. He moved ever so slightly, his chest brushing Adam’s shoulder as he leaned in again. His breath was back, close to Adam’s ear, closer this time.

"But you know…" Lucifer's voice dropped, becoming an intimate whisper, "I’m even better at other things."

Adam’s blush deepened, and his hand faltered for a moment. He quickly caught himself, hoping Lucifer didn’t notice the sudden hitch in his movements. But of course, Lucifer noticed everything. Adam could feel the man’s smirk without even looking at him. It hung in the air like a well-placed trap, ready to ensnare him.

"Are you trying to make me nervous?" Adam muttered, glancing sideways at Lucifer, trying to muster some semblance of control over his own embarrassment.

Lucifer chuckled softly, the sound a low, dangerous rumble in his chest.

"Maybe." He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Is it working?"

Adam opened his mouth to reply but found the words tangled on his tongue. He couldn’t deny the effect Lucifer was having on him—the heat, the tension, the way every touch seemed to set his skin alight.

He swallowed thickly, forcing a small laugh. "Maybe a little."

Lucifer grinned, satisfied with the answer, and finally stepped back, giving Adam a little space to breathe. But the absence of his presence was almost worse—it left the air cold, hollow, as if something vital had been pulled away.

"Don’t worry," Lucifer said, his tone light and playful once more. "I’ll let you finish without distraction. For now."

He winked, turning his attention to another counter, where various ingredients were laid out for the meal they were about to prepare.

Adam, now free from Lucifer’s proximity but still feeling the lingering weight of the moment, exhaled a shaky breath. He smiled to himself as he continued chopping, the ghost of Lucifer’s touch still tingling on his skin. This wasn’t just an ordinary evening—it was something far more unsettling, far more electrifying. And Adam wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop.

Dinner unfolded with a strange mix of warmth and tension that Adam couldn’t quite shake. Charlie and Vaggie bounded down the stairs, clearly eager to eat, their playful energy filling the dimly lit room. The table was set with an array of food that looked and smelled so much better than anything Adam had been used to growing up. His fingers fidgeted with the fork as he tried to summon an appetite, despite the gnawing uncertainty in his chest.

As they all settled around the table, Charlie’s curious gaze fell on Adam, noticing his hesitation to eat. She cocked her head, her big eyes filled with concern.

"Do you have trouble with food, Adam?" she asked softly, her voice full of innocent curiosity.

Vaggie nudged her with a sharp elbow, whispering something about personal boundaries, and Charlie quickly flushed with embarrassment.

"I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to," Charlie quickly added, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as she ducked her head.

Adam glanced around the table, suddenly feeling like all eyes were on him. Lucifer, who had chosen the seat beside him, was particularly attentive, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Adam with a soft, almost curious expression. Under the weight of those gazes, Adam swallowed nervously, his fingers playing with the cold metal of his fork.

"It’s fine," Adam muttered after a moment, forcing a small smile to ease the tension. "It’s not a big deal or anything. Growing up, there wasn’t a lot of food around. Not because we were poor, but… my parents didn’t like the idea of me eating too much. They didn’t want a fat kid."

Charlie’s frown was immediate, her brow creased in obvious disdain. She shook her head, muttering something too low for Adam to catch, but her expression said everything. Vaggie, ever her grounding presence, gently took Charlie’s hand in hers, squeezing it as if to remind her to stay calm.

Lucifer, on the other hand, gazed at Adam with a kind of quiet, knowing sympathy. His gaze softened, and he reached out, resting a hand lightly on Adam’s shoulder.

"You should never be ashamed to eat," Lucifer said, his voice low and smooth like silk sliding over velvet. His eyes glinted with something sincere as they met Adam’s. "It would make me very happy if you enjoyed this meal. Eat more than just enough to fill yourself—take pleasure in it."

Adam’s face flushed, heat creeping up his neck as Lucifer’s words hung in the air. Before Adam could respond, Lucifer, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, speared a slice of ham with his fork and held it up to Adam’s lips. The action was playful but intimate, far more than Adam had expected.

"Open your mouth, darling," Lucifer cooed, his voice a teasing lilt that made Adam’s heart skip.

Adam recoiled slightly, a flustered smile tugging at his lips. "I’m not a baby," he protested, trying to sound firm, but his voice betrayed him with its softness.

Lucifer’s grin widened, sharp and wolfish. "Then don’t act like one. Open your mouth and eat the tasty ham."

His voice took on an almost sing-song quality, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or should I make airplane noises? Hmm?"

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged amused glances, their giggles filling the room as Adam’s blush deepened. Feeling like he was in some ridiculous situation he couldn’t escape, Adam dared Lucifer with a soft, "Go ahead, try it."

Lucifer’s grin only grew wider as he accepted the challenge. He leaned in closer, making exaggerated airplane noises, moving the fork toward Adam’s lips in slow, playful circles. The entire moment felt ridiculous, like something straight out of a cheesy movie, but the playful glint in Lucifer’s eyes made it impossible for Adam not to smile.

Finally, with a sigh of defeat and cheeks burning, Adam parted his lips and allowed Lucifer to feed him. The ham was savoury and delicious, but Adam barely registered the taste. His mind was too focused on the sensation of Lucifer being so close, of their playful connection weaving an odd but undeniable bond between them.

Lucifer, ever the tease, didn’t stop there. After Adam had swallowed, Lucifer leaned in and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. Adam froze, startled by the sudden affection. His heart raced in his chest, and his body tingled with the warmth of the unexpected gesture.

"Good boy," Lucifer whispered sweetly, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he hummed, pulling away as if nothing had happened.

 His movements were casual, but Adam could feel the heat radiating off his own skin, his mind still reeling from the subtle intimacy of it all.

As if to add fuel to the fire, Lucifer continued eating, but not before deliberately using the same fork that had just been in Adam’s mouth. There was something devilishly innocent about the way he did it, as though he were unaware of the unspoken implications. Adam’s eyes widened, his mind immediately jumping to the realization that it was an indirect kiss. He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest, unsure of how to respond to Lucifer’s deliberate antics.

Dinner concluded soon after, Charlie and Vaggie disappearing upstairs to finish their homework, leaving Adam alone with Lucifer in the dimly lit kitchen. Adam felt a slight pang of nervousness but also an odd comfort—Lucifer’s presence, while mischievous and teasing, had grown familiar.

As Adam began to gather the dishes to clean up, Lucifer waved him off with a soft laugh.

"You don’t have to do that," he said, leaning against the counter with a grin. "I invited you here for dinner, not to work."

Adam shook his head, smiling despite the lingering warmth in his cheeks. "It’s the least I can do. You cooked dinner, after all. I want to help."

Lucifer’s eyes softened at Adam’s insistence, and he tilted his head slightly, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You really are sweet," he murmured, his voice low and affectionate. He stepped closer, just enough to brush against Adam’s side, his presence once again invading Adam’s space with an almost magnetic pull.

Adam couldn’t help but smile, his heart fluttering in his chest as he began to rinse the dishes. This house, this moment—it all felt surreal. A little eerie, a little romantic, and something else entirely, something that made his pulse quicken and his mind race with thoughts he wasn’t quite ready to confront.

The air between them thickened with a kind of intensity that left Adam breathless. The kitchen, once filled with playful teasing, now hummed with a palpable tension, something darker and more electric. Adam could feel Lucifer’s gaze on him, a warm weight that made his skin prickle and his face flush. Every glance, every lingering second stretched out, charged with an unspoken emotion that hovered between them.

Lucifer, with his golden hair catching the dim light and his sharp eyes smouldering, stepped closer to Adam, closing the space between them with graceful ease. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost predatory. Adam felt his breath hitch in his throat as Lucifer’s fingers, cool and soft, brushed against his hand. The touch was gentle but insistent, and before Adam could think to resist, Lucifer was tugging him away from the sink, the warm water and dishes forgotten.

"Leave them," Lucifer whispered, his voice low and velvety, curling around Adam like smoke.

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but before the words could form, Lucifer silenced him in the most unexpected way. His lips pressed against Adam’s in a kiss so soft, so fleeting, that it barely registered at first. The world seemed to still in that moment, time itself pausing as Adam’s wide, startled green eyes locked onto Lucifer’s.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Adam’s face for something, some sign of acceptance or maybe hesitation. His fingers traced a slow, feather-light path up Adam’s arms, leaving a trail of shivers in their wake. Adam, still frozen in shock, felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears.

Then, as if finding what he was looking for, Lucifer leaned in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more deliberate. Their lips moved together, a slow and sensual dance, and Adam found himself instinctively leaning into it. The taste of Lucifer was intoxicating—dark, rich, with a sweetness that caught Adam off guard. His mind spun, and without realizing it, he was kissing back, his lips parting slightly as their tongues began to explore one another.

The sensation of it, the heat, the closeness—it was overwhelming. Adam’s entire body trembled, a mixture of desire and nervousness flooding his senses. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t even imagined it, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t pull away. The feeling of Lucifer’s hands on him, his lips so confident and teasing, left Adam breathless and wanting more.

Lucifer broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against Adam’s lips, his breath warm and full of temptation.

"It’s late," he murmured, his voice low and persuasive, each word sending a shiver down Adam’s spine. "You should stay the night."

Adam’s heart raced; his chest tight with the weight of his pounding pulse. He tried to speak, tried to form some coherent response, but all that came out was a soft, breathless murmur. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, his body betraying him with its eager trembling.

"Please," Lucifer added softly.

His voice laced with something almost vulnerable, as if the devil himself was asking for something more than just a kiss. His hand tightened gently around Adam’s, his thumb brushing across his knuckles in a tender, reassuring motion.

Adam’s resolve crumbled. His lips parted, but the only sound that escaped was a soft exhale, and with a shy nod, he surrendered to the moment. Lucifer’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, one that was as wicked as it was tender, before he leaned in again, claiming Adam’s lips once more with a kiss that promised much more than just a night.

The following morning would be first of many mornings where Adam was served fresh pancakes.

[marthalovesu]

I love them, they give me serotonin

[kibacju]

HAPPY adamsapple friday PRIDE MONTH 2024!! 🎸🍎

Better late than never... but we all know who was leading the parade in Hell ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

[kittenfangirl20]

*Adam walks down stairs to see the hotel decorated in rainbows*

Adam: Ummmmmmm…….. wait? What is going on here? Does this have anything do with Noah?

*Angel Dust pops up*

Angel Dust: This is Pride Month, we celebrate the LGBT community. Oh I almost forget, this is for you.

*puts a bisexual pride pin on Adam’s jacket*

Lucifer: I know that the whole Heaven being homophobic was a myth invented by humans, but I am not shocked that they don’t celebrate Pride Month in Heaven.

*Adam notes that Lucifer has a bisexual pride pin on his suit jacket*

Lucifer: This will be a first for you, there are a lot of parties and stuff I could take you to. You are a rock star and bisexual, you would be very popular. Plus I would like to show off my hot boyfriend.

*Lucifer playfully smacks Adam’s butt which makes Adam really blush*

Adam: I would like that.

[adamsapppleartist]

Cain ... just Cain xD I don't think I wait for you to draw something to you, NSFW on Patreon with this boy xD (it will be hot!) Adam firmly proud of his son is not xD but at least he can get fun xD

Support me on Patreon (more hot, fullnudity NSFW AdamsApple content >D)

Follow me on Twitter (more AdamsApple content <3 )

[lilacwriter07]

Instead of Lucifer going after Lilith, he goes after Adam and things become messy very fast .

Michael: Is it me or does the human's stomach grew ?

Sera: It .. It did .. How ?

Adam: I ate too many seeds !

Lilith: Does that happen to me as well if I eat many seeds ?

Lucifer: No dear those are special seeds

Lilith: Where can ..

Lucifer: Just no .

God meanwhile knitting baby sweaters with a knowing smile, ofcourse he WILL have a talk with Lucifer soon .

[thethespacecoyote]

Running a Memorial Day sale for my candle shop now through 5/27! Take 20% off all orders including all my recent Hazbin/Helluva additions, Pride Flag Candles, and more! Check them out here.

[am-i-a-boy-or-a-crybaby]

adam

Stuff my throat with apples

Coat my ribs in fire

Strike my face with cold metal

Make my body one I wish to stay in

Make my voice one that I can bear

Match my brain and soul

Catch my physique up to my heart

-grayson h

[alartist]

Well I did the shipping chart thing!

I sure hope this doesn’t end up igniting a shipping war!

[inubaki]

A commission I bought from @crimsonkingart!!! Awwwww!!! It’s just in time!!!

Please check out their page!! They are amazing and very kind.

Happy Pride Month!!

[rainforestakiie]

Adamsapple Month Harvest

Sweaters~

@adamsappleweek

this will have a part 2 much later! i ran out of time and need to get going! i thought i could get it done in time, but nope! i might be able to write a little during my vacation but can't promise anything! i will be back sometime around the 8th of October!

thank you everyone and hope you like what i have written for harvest so far!

Adam would never admit it to a living soul—hell, not even a dead one. Never. But he had a peculiar talent, a secret skill woven into the fibres of his very being. He could knit. Stitch. Weave. It wasn’t just something he did for his children and grandchildren back on Earth; no, even in Heaven, where time was endless, he found his hands restless, creating. Scarves, mittens, sweaters, coats—each one a masterpiece crafted in the shadows. He loved it, revelled in seeing what his fingers could create, but it was a skill he buried deep, wrapped in shame. It wasn’t manly, not for the first man, the father of humanity, to be doing something so... soft. So, he hid it, tucked it away like a forbidden treasure. No one could ever see. Adam’s hands might have shaped the destiny of mankind, but they would never be seen knitting by the fireside in public.

But then Hell happened.

After the battle, everything shifted. He woke, gasping for air, his body weak, his vision clouded like a newborn fumbling through its first moments of life. The taste of dirt and blood clung to his tongue as he clawed his way out of the grave he'd been tossed into, scrambling like a beast toward the faint outline of a dumpster. Hell's atmosphere—thick, stifling, and bitter—pressed down on him, and when his golden eyes finally adjusted, he realized just how far he had fallen.

The Hazbin Hotel loomed in the distance; its massive red eye glaring down at him like some twisted sentinel of judgment. His wings—once radiant gold and silver—hung limp at his sides, dull, useless. Panic wrapped its icy fingers around his chest, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. He wasn’t just Adam, the first man anymore. He was a Sinner. One of them. A walking target, prey for the vile creatures who hunted for sport in this wretched pit. His skin tingled with the rawness of fear, a sensation he hadn’t felt since Eden. He was the first man, but now... now he was nothing more than a hunted thing.

Crawling, desperate, he dragged himself toward the gates of the hotel. It wasn’t like he had a choice. There was nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. That bizarre rainbow-haired girl and the smug bastard who ran the place—they’d help him, wouldn’t they? They had to. After all, wasn’t their whole pathetic mission about redeeming Sinners? Forgiveness and second chances, all that righteous crap? His trembling hands gripped the iron bars of the gate as he hauled himself up, eyes wide and staring at the tower before him.

But then he hesitated, his heart skipping a beat. Something... felt wrong. A cold shiver danced up his spine, his instincts screaming at him to stop. Think, his mind whispered. He could seek refuge here, but that smug, pompous devil—Lucifer—would take great pleasure in seeing him suffer. Adam could practically see that sharp, wicked grin, those cruel eyes glinting with amusement as he tortured him, making him grovel, forcing him to bow at his feet like a broken dog. The mere thought made Adam’s stomach churn. His hands tightened around the bars, knuckles whitening as a bitter frown twisted his face.

Lucifer had already taken everything from him once—his paradise, his peace—and now, he would undoubtedly come for his soul, trapping him in some wretched contract like a puppet on strings. Adam could feel it, deep in his bones, and it made his skin crawl. He wasn’t about to let that smug bastard have the satisfaction. Not again. He was done being a pawn, done letting others dictate his fate.

Blinking, his golden eyes fixed once more on the hotel. No. He wouldn’t grovel. He wouldn’t beg for their scraps of mercy. He didn’t need them. He didn’t need anyone. He would carve his own path, as he had done before, back when he was cast out of Eden. He’d find his way here, too, in this infernal nightmare. Hell couldn’t be worse than the world above had been, could it? He was Adam, the first man—he could survive anything. He would survive this.

His stomach twisted with unease as he stepped away from the gate, his gaze turning toward the sprawling hellscape of Pentagram City. The air was thick, smoky, suffocating, but he breathed it in deeply. He could do this. He had to. He had already been damned once, and he'd survived. He’d make something of this new life, something that was his and his alone. No contracts, no deals, no bending to anyone’s will. He wouldn’t sink to the level of the others down here, the Overlords and Sinners who bartered for souls like they were currency.

A sharp nod to himself, Adam set his jaw, determination burning in his veins as he began to walk away from the looming shadow of Hazbin Hotel. He didn’t care anymore about Heaven, or redemption, or even humanity. He was done with it all. Now, it was about him. About finding some sliver of happiness in this forsaken pit. And maybe... just maybe... he’d finally be able to do the things he’d always been too ashamed to do.

Like knitting.

~#~

It was… maybe too easy. A bit unsettling, really, how quickly Adam had carved out a little space for himself. Almost as if Hell wasn’t paying attention. He’d learned fast—keep out of the sleazy, grimy parts of Pentagram City and no one gave a damn about him. No leering stares, no whispers behind his back. But the moment he stepped into a bar or a nightclub, the Sinners’ eyes would snap to him like sharks catching the scent of blood. If he kept to the cleaner side of the city, though? It was like he was invisible. It was weird. It was wrong. Adam could smell the bullshit from a mile away, like the sulfur in the air.

Still, he wandered the streets, lost in thought. Knitting, weaving, stitching—it had always come naturally to him, almost as if it was stitched into his soul. He enjoyed it, truly. The quiet, the focus, the satisfaction of seeing something beautiful emerge from nothing but thread. It was one of the few things he had ever really loved doing, but shame had buried that love deep inside him. Now, though, he wanted to take that passion, that secret talent, and make something of it. Here, in Hell, where shame was a joke and sins were currency, maybe he could finally embrace what he'd always been too afraid to show.

He didn’t want to deal with anyone anymore. Not Sera, not Lute, not Emily. Certainly not Lucifer. And Charlie? Hell, no. Lilith could rot. Eve… Eve was nothing but a distant memory, a ghost from another life. And God? Adam laughed bitterly to himself. No, he didn’t need any of them. Not their pity, their help, their judgment. He could be alone. He wanted to be alone, free from all the burdens they had piled onto him for centuries. He’d done it on Earth, hadn’t he? Found a way to survive, to make something out of nothing. He could do it again, here, in this damned city of the damned. He didn’t need anyone’s help. He could make a life on his own terms.

His feet carried him down the pink and red pavement as his golden eyes swept across the streets, taking in the sights of Hell’s vibrant monotony. The same damn colour everywhere. Red. So much red. It was as if Hell itself only had one brushstroke, painting everything in that bloody hue. He sighed, the weight of it all pressing down on him. Why the hell did everything have to look like it had been dunked in a bucket of crimson paint?

It didn’t matter. He’d adapt. He always had. Adam’s steps slowed as he mulled over his next move, the tension in his body easing as resolve crept back in. He’d find his start, his beginning. He could do this. He didn’t need them. Any of them. Not anymore.

As Adam wandered deeper into the heart of Pentagram City, he stumbled upon a curious scene unfolding in a clearing, just past a dilapidated building that once held the promise of pastries and warmth. Now, it stood in ruin, the faded sign hanging askew—a ghost of a bakery, a relic of a more innocent time. Around it, a handful of Sinners had gathered, their voices a chaotic symphony of bravado and greed.

An auction was taking place.

The atmosphere crackled with tension, thick enough to slice with a blade. Adam hovered at the edge of the gathering, watching with a mixture of intrigue and apprehension. The bidders, an eclectic mix of ragged figures, eyed one another with a blend of disdain and desperation. One particularly burly Sinner, his tattoos snaking up his neck, slammed his fist against a nearby crate, bellowing as he lost his temper at a rival. The ensuing scuffle sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd, laughter mingling with shouts as the tension escalated into chaos. Adam's heart raced—he felt the pulse of this world around him, dark and twisted.

After a few moments of escalating voices and clashing bodies, the auctioneer—a wiry figure with a crooked grin—called for silence. With a sharp snap of his fingers, he brought order back to the scene. The building had found a new owner amidst the din, and the crowd began to disperse like smoke in the wind. Adam seized his chance, stepping forward as the last few Sinners left, lingering in the space between them and the auctioneer.

“Hey!” he called, his voice cutting through the air, low and steady. “I need a house. A small one—like a box.”

The auctioneer regarded him coolly, his brow arching in amusement.

“Should’ve bidded then,” he replied, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You’re shit outta luck, buddy.”

Adam’s fists clenched at his sides, frustration boiling beneath his skin. He had no money, no resources, and yet the ache for a home—a space to call his own—gnawed at him. As the auctioneer turned to leave, Adam stepped into his path, determination lighting his golden eyes.

 “I’m a new Sinner,” he said, words tumbling out in a rush. “I don’t know how to get money, but there has to be something else I can offer.”

The auctioneer opened his mouth to respond, but Adam cut him off, a sneer curling his lips. “And I swear to whatever hell you believe in; it won’t involve my body.”

The Sinner threw back his head and laughed, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth that gleamed in the muted light. He shrugged, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, then! What do you think you’ve got that’s valuable?”

Adam paused, the weight of the question pressing down on him. His mind raced, and then, like a spark igniting in the darkness, an idea bloomed.

“My feathers,” he said, voice steady but laced with uncertainty.

The auctioneer stared for a moment, eyebrows climbing higher with each passing second.  

“Why the hell would I want your feathers?” he asked, scepticism lacing his tone.

Without hesitation, Adam reached into his wing and plucked a feather free. He hissed softly, the pain sharp but fleeting, and twirled the feather between his fingers. It shimmered, a dazzling blend of gold and silver, glinting like precious metal caught in the light. Holding it close, he leaned in slightly. “Have you ever seen a Sinner with gold and silver wings?”

The auctioneer’s expression shifted, curiosity igniting in his eyes. He squinted, inspecting the feather as if it held the secrets of the universe. Adam leaned into the moment, his heart pounding in anticipation. “I know for a fact that golden feathers are rare. Not even the archangels of Heaven have them. And let’s be real—the King of Hell doesn’t have gold wings, either.”

The Sinner was quiet, mulling over”the ’mplications as Adam's words hung in the air. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll look at it. Let me see how much it’s worth.”

With a gesture of his hand, he signalled that he’d return. Adam nodded, feeling a spark of hope igniting within him as he handed the feather over.

As the auctioneer scrambled off to his partners, Adam watched, his heart racing. The feather changed hands, passing through the fingers of curious Sinners, each one muttering and gasping with delight at the shimmering prize. One of them pulled out a small box, carefully placing the feather inside. The murmurs of excitement and intrigue crescendo, each Sinner leaning in closer as if it held the power to change their fates.

Moments later, the auctioneer returned, his grin wider than before.

“Good news, kid,” he said, eyes gleaming with a mix of greed and exhilaration. “We can get you a house by the end of the day! But here’s the catch—you’ll pay rent in feathers.”

Adam’s brows knitted together, scepticism flaring. “I’ll pay five feathers a month,” he countered, crossing his arms defiantly.

The auctioneer scoffed, laughter bubbling from his lips. “Fifteen.”

“Ten,” Adam shot back, unwavering.

The auctioneer paused, weighing the offer, then relented with a chuckle. “Fine. Ten it is.” They shook hands, the pact sealing Adam’s fate, his heart racing at the thought of finally having a place to call home.

And just like that, Adam had secured a small house, a box of his own amidst the chaos of Hell. As he walked away, a small smile crept across his face. His feathers would grow back quickly, after all, and now he had a fresh start, a chance to build a life. No longer just a fallen angel, he could finally pursue the craft he loved without fear or shame. It was a new beginning, and Adam felt the stirring of hope within him, mingling with the tension of uncertainty that came with each step into this strange, vibrant world.

~#~

The process of settling into his new life was achingly slow at first. The small building he’d secured was a peculiar gem, nestled in a perfect location within the chaotic sprawl of Pentagram City, yet also the worst spot imaginable. From his windows, he had a direct view of the damn Hazbin Hotel, looming like a twisted monolith against the horizon. Its presence gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the world he was trying to escape. He hated it—hated the way the hotel shimmered under the infernal light, casting eerie shadows that danced like specters across the pavement. To distract himself, Adam busied his hands with the colorful threads, trying to forget the sight.

But to truly establish his business, he needed to make connections—forge deals that didn’t involve his soul, but rather his precious feathers. What he didn’t realize was how incredibly valuable those feathers were in Hell’s economy. He felt a nagging sense of unease, grateful that no Sinner had yet attempted to cut them off or kidnap him. He had made friends, or at least acquaintances, with the Sinners who came through his door, and astonishingly, they genuinely liked him. Perhaps they sensed that he was, despite the darkness surrounding them, a decent guy just trying to find his way.

Adam had acquired everything he needed: electricity, gas, materials, the works. The day he opened his small shop was a whirlwind of excitement. His heart pounded like a drum as he turned the sign from “Closed” to “Open.”

To his surprise, no Sinner made a mocking comment about a man who knitted; instead, they rushed in like starving creatures drawn to a feast. Requests poured in like rain: scarves with intricate designs, mittens, boots, sweaters. Adam was stunned. By the end of his first month, the influx of Hell-bucks was overwhelming—more than he ever imagined he could earn in this twisted paradise.

Regulars appeared almost immediately, one standing out from the rest. Rosie, a vibrant Sinner from the cannibal town, caught his attention. She came in daily, placing orders or purchasing whatever items were on display. Her enthusiasm was infectious, her laughter a bright spot in the otherwise grim world. Conversations with her felt like sunlight breaking through the eternal gloom, and Adam found himself looking forward to her visits.

As the weeks rolled by, Adam observed something peculiar: none of the Sinners had access to the kind of clothing he provided. They dove in and out of his shop, marvelling at the sweaters and scarves as if they were precious artifacts. Adam initially guessed it was because Hell was often too hot for such things, but the freezing cold nights quickly dispelled that notion. It turned out Hell’s nightlife was a vibrant affair, with many Sinners active after sundown, desperately in need of warmth. It worked out well for him, and he relished the bustling atmosphere, but a creeping sense of foreboding lingered just beneath the surface.

One fateful day, about a month after his arrival, an order popped up on his computer screen that sent shivers down his spine. Adam blinked in disbelief, his eyebrows shooting up as he processed the words. His mouth went dry, and a shudder ran through him, his wings flapping in displeasure. At first, he tried to ignore it, burying himself in the avalanche of new customers who flooded in daily. But no matter how hard he worked, that order nagged at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He grimaced deeply as he finally surrendered to the truth. The day came to a close, and after locking the door and flipping the sign to “Closed,” he straightened his black and gold sweater, a piece he had crafted himself.

He felt a pang of pride, tugging at the hem before wiggling his feet into his Ugg boots. With a deep groan, he turned back to the computer, running his hands down his face in frustration. Maybe it was within his rights to reject the order? After all, it was a little too much. So, he decided to do just that. He cancelled it and thought that would be the end of it.

But the next day, the order reappeared—this time with a higher sum of money offered. Adam practically screamed when it flashed back onto the screen. Why was this happening? He had fought so hard to create a small life for himself, one without anyone poking their fat noses into his business. This wasn’t supposed to be complicated! Sure, he could just fill the order, pocket the money, and wash his hands of the whole ordeal.

As he rubbed his chin thoughtfully and leaned closer to the screen, curiosity gnawed at him. He blinked in surprise when he saw who the order was for: seven sweaters, each adorned with specific patterns and colours that made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge. He swallowed thickly, dread pooling in his gut. He knew who the fucking duck sweaters were meant for. Ugh! He didn’t want to do this—didn’t want to bend to their whims ever again!

With a deep breath, he braced himself against the inevitable frustration rising in his chest. Maybe I can just ignore it, brush it off like the rest of the bullshit that comes with this hellhole, he thought.

But even as he willed himself to dismiss the order, the familiar flutter of his wings reminded him of the delicate balance he had to maintain in this world. In a place as treacherous as Hell, ignoring a royal request might not just be a mistake—it could lead to consequences he wasn’t prepared to face.

Tension clung to him like a cloak as he weighed his options, the prospect of wrestling with fate hanging heavy in the air. He was determined to forge his own path, but the thought of crossing the Princess of Hell felt like tempting fate itself. His fingers twitched over the keyboard, caught between the urge to fill the order and the yearning to reclaim his autonomy. Whatever the outcome, he knew one thing for sure: this battle wasn’t over yet.

After eight long, agonizing days, Adam finally completed the order, boxing it up with meticulous care. Each sweater was a labor of love, infused with his creativity and skill, every stitch carefully crafted despite the tempest of his emotions. As tempting as it was to cut corners—maybe even slip something in, a little surprise or a bit of sabotage—he refrained. No, he had to prove himself, show that he was worthy of respect in this twisted underworld. He wrapped each piece in delicate, shimmering tissue paper and nestled a small card inside that thanked them for ordering from his store. It felt almost absurd, like he was playing house in a world that didn’t care about pleasantries.

The day dragged on like molasses, and he found himself fidgeting with anticipation, glancing at the door every few minutes for the delivery Sinner. Time slipped away, however, and as the sun began to sink into a blood-red horizon, he received the news that the Sinner was sick. A deep groan escaped him. Now he had to deliver it himself.

Adam lifted the box with a resigned sigh, stepping outside onto the pavement. Locking the door behind him, he shot a venomous glare at the Hazbin Hotel in the distance. Maybe he could just drop it off and vanish before anyone noticed him. He had no desire to engage with any of those insufferable Sinners, especially not today. But a nagging thought reminded him that he needed someone to sign for the parcel—proof that he had fulfilled the order. It wasn’t worth the risk to his hard-earned reputation, even if Charlie wouldn’t screw him over.

With that determination steeling his resolve, he made the tedious trek through Pentagram City toward the hotel. His golden eyes remained downcast, his thoughts a swirling mess, feet dragging against the pavement. As he approached the gates, a familiar wave of anxiety washed over him. Adam halted, memories flooding back to a year ago, standing before these very gates, teetering on the edge of seeking help. He snorted at his past self; relief coursed through him that he hadn’t walked through those doors back then. Look at him now—his own small business thriving, creating the very things he loved without a shred of shame. Sure, some orders were challenging, but he relished the test.

But as he pushed the iron black gates open, the pounding of his heart began to echo in his ears, anxious and insistent. The moment he stepped inside, dread coiled tightly in his chest. Adam forced himself to move past the grotesque golden statue of the goat monster and shuffled his feet to the doors, his entire body trembling as the air thickened around him. It felt as if the hotel itself were alive, watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. Panic gripped him, his breath hitching in his throat. He took a step back, ready to bolt, when suddenly the doors swung open with a creak that echoed like thunder.

Charlie stood there, mid-conversation, her radiant grin momentarily frozen as her eyes landed on him.

“Adam?” she squealed, shock painting her features. It was like the world around them fell silent, and all the eyes in the hotel seemed to turn toward him.

His skin prickled under the weight of their stares, and he squirmed, feeling exposed. Vaggie appeared next to Charlie, her arms crossed, and her expression pinched, as if she’d just bitten into something sour.

“You’re back as a Sinner now?” she scoffed, disbelief dripping from her words.

Charlie’s expression shifted from surprise to concern, her eyes wide with worry.

“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, as if she feared the answer.

Adam could sense her apprehension; she was worried he might have come to the hotel seeking refuge, like he once had. A small part of him wished he could lay that burden down, but that wasn’t why he stood there now. It was a good thing, too, considering he didn’t need their help anymore.

Before he could gather his thoughts and respond, Vaggie huffed, shaking her head in exasperation.

 “Unbelievable! You think just because you’re a Sinner now, you can waltz in here and demand our help?” The accusation stung, a jagged edge to her tone that made him want to shrink back into the shadows.

Charlie stepped forward, her face reddening as she tried to smooth the tension.

“Vaggie, please—” she began, but the weight of her words hung in the air, heavy and taut. Charlie clearly didn’t want to turn anyone away, even if it was Adam. “I can’t just close the door on anyone, even if it’s... Adam.”

Vaggie shot him a disbelieving glare, her expression twisted with suspicion. “You think we can just trust him now?”

Adam opened his mouth to speak, to set the record straight, but the weight of the moment crashed down on him. The tension crackled in the air, heavy with unspoken words and old wounds. The hotel felt like a cage, closing in around him, and he fought the urge to flee. All those eyes—those judgmental, curious eyes—made his skin crawl, and the box in his hands felt like a ticking time bomb.

Adam’s heart raced, his breath catching in his throat as he fought to find the words.

“No, I’m not here to stay,” he started, determination hardening his voice. “I just wanted to—”

But he was abruptly cut off by a voice that slithered into his thoughts like poison.

“Why, if it isn’t the first man!” The tone was dripping with mockery, and Adam felt his skin crawl in disbelief. Lucifer stepped into view, stepping around Charlie and Vaggie as they instinctively moved aside, like planets yielding to a sun. The King of Hell’s smug expression was a sight Adam had dreaded. The gleam in Lucifer’s eyes, the sharp-toothed smirk curling at his lips—it was all too familiar.

“Look how far you’ve fallen, Adam,” Lucifer continued, taking a step forward, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were relishing the moment. “You’ve become a Sinner! Shocking!”

Adam felt his grip tighten around the box, the sharp edge digging into his chest like a brand. He pressed his lips into a thin line, fury bubbling beneath the surface.

“What do you want, Lucifer?” he shot back, trying to inject his voice with some semblance of strength, but it trembled slightly.

Lucifer straightened, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, radiating a confidence that made Adam’s stomach churn. “Let me guess—you’ve come here for protection? For help? Because now you’re scared and alone in this hellhole?” He laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the air. “That’s rich! You’re one of the things you despised the most!”

Adam opened his mouth to snap back, to assert that he didn’t need their help, but once again, Lucifer cut him off.

“Why should we help you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. “Why should we let you in?”

Behind Lucifer, a few Sinners peeked out, their curious faces illuminated by the dim light of the hotel. Adam’s eyes darted to them, feeling like a specimen under a microscope, as his fingers dug deeper into the box, desperately trying to maintain his composure.

Lucifer, seeing the discomfort etched on Adam’s face, grinned wider. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. We’ll help you. We’ll even let you stay with us. But first, you need to get on your knees and beg.”

“Fuck you!” Adam hissed, his anger flaring like a wildfire.

“Beg like the dog you are,” Lucifer continued, ignoring Adam’s outburst.

Charlie gasped, her eyes wide with shock as she interjected, “Adam doesn’t need to do that!”

Lucifer shook his head, a playful disapproval dancing in his features. Vaggie’s expression brightened, clearly enjoying this spectacle. “No, no! He needs to do that and more! Otherwise, we’ll just close the door in his face.”

Adam’s heart raced, relief washing over him for the choices he’d made months prior. The prospect of having to bow before Lucifer was beyond humiliating.

“Fuck this,” he muttered under his breath, meeting Charlie’s bewildered gaze. “Sorry, Charlie.”

“Wait—” Charlie began, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“That’s a start!” Lucifer interjected, his smirk widening.

But Adam was done. He raised his chin defiantly, cutting Lucifer off mid-sentence. “Sorry, Charlie. I think I’m going to need to cancel your order.”

“I’ll refund you when I get back to my shop.” He spun on his heels, striding toward the exit, fuelled by a mix of anger and resolve.

“Adam, please!” Charlie called after him, her voice tinged with desperation. “I don’t understand!”

“I thought I could take your order,” he shouted back, “but I clearly can’t! It was a bad idea to accept it after the first time I cancelled!” He paused to glance back at them, his heart hammering in his chest. “I can’t accept any of your orders in the future. I apologize for that.”

With that, he continued toward the gates, head held high, ignoring the stunned stares and heavy silence that followed him. But just as he reached the exit, a rough hand clamped around his elbow, pulling him back with a jolt.

“Stop fucking around and just get inside the hotel,” Lucifer growled, his grip fierce and unyielding. “Before I change my mind.”

Adam yelped, yanking his arm away, his heart pounding with indignation. “I would never come to this hotel looking for help, I especially would not come looking for protection and help from you—the guy who ruined my life! I woke up as a Sinner more than nine months ago, and I’ve been doing fine without Lucifer fucking Morningstar!”

Lucifer blinked, taken aback. “Are you serious? You’ve survived a whole year without me? Fine?”

“Of course! What, did you think I couldn’t last a single day without your special help?” Adam laughed bitterly; each syllable laced with defiance. “I’m not as stupid as everyone thinks I am! I’m doing just fine with my business!”

The King of Hell’s eyes widened, disbelief etched on his face. “What business? What sketchy, fucked-up shit are you doing?”

That question ignited a fire within Adam. He slammed the box into Lucifer’s chest, pushing the King of Hell back with surprising force. “Why don’t you look and find out?” he hissed, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

With that, Adam stormed away, a wave of liberation washing over him as he made his way out of the damned Hazbin Hotel. He could almost taste freedom, the sweet air of possibility waiting for him beyond those iron gates.

“Fuck Lucifer and all his assholeness!” he thought, heart racing with a mix of triumph and exhilaration.

As he stepped through the gates and back into the chaotic streets of Pentagram City, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the shadows of the hotel fading behind him. This was his life now, and he would not let anyone—especially not Lucifer—dictate how he lived it.

[coffee-isgood]

y’all happy pride month

[cakerybakery]

Adam paused, it was odd to see Lucifer in just socks instead of his boots or something else that covered up his hooves. It was even odder that Adam didn’t recognize the socks at all.

For the last ten years he’d bought all of Lucifer’s clothing. The man had literally just been repairing and wearing the only outfit he had for centuries. Which, Adam found revolting. It wasn’t the fucking dawn of time anymore. It was called fashion, and the king of hell was horribly out of style.

It did have the pleasant side effect that Lucifer only slept in the nude, but still, own other clothing!

“Lucifer, where did you get those socks?”

Lucifer looked over his book at his feet. “You?”

“I didn’t buy those.”

“I dunno then. They just showed up in my drawer one day and I’ve been wearing them ever since. They’re my only pair too.”

“…”

“That’s probably why they’re so big. Usually you get me toddler socks with the cute designs. They’re soft though.” He went back to his book unbothered by the mystery socks.

Adam was very bothered by it. Where the fuck had those socks come from???

[lazybocklover]

This All of the Adamapple kid's sexuality and pronouns

Happy pride month

Annabelle: pro: All, sexuality: Pan

Karma: Pro: He/Him, sexuality: Gay

Morgan: Pro She/Them, sexuality: Ace,Bi

Kai: pro He/Him, sexuality he don't care

Mai: pro She/Her, sexuality don't care

[acerobot]

Hazbin Hotel had be grabbed by the ponytail for a sec there, so here's some AdamsApple kids! On the left is Jezebel and the right is Eden. Nine months apart and both accidents lol.

I like the idea of gorgon hair for Lucifer kids, and debating on doing a quick design of a RadioApple kid with them. I'm not super into the ship, but their designs are neat and might be interesting to put together. I'll probably just give them away to someone if I do.

[lilacwriter07]

I really wanna write my 100 fanfic, and normally I was going to do yandere UraIchi . But somehow it didn't safe and now I can't get back into the zone .

And since I write a few times for adamsapple, should I do adamsapple ? Or should I not give up on that yandere UraIchi fanfic ?