#concerning his corruption was the Sinner

[reginrokkr]

𝐗𝐂. Threat through telepathic connections because of the Sinner.

Considering seriously how the mention of the Sinner may be the only moment Dain has felt threatened that we've seen him thus far and how abruptly Caribert's AQ was cut short unlike other AQs that had Dain's involvement. It gets particularly concerning to me the way the Sinner addresses to him with such familiarity by using his moniker and it rises the question to me if he might be at least one of the reasons (if not the only one) behind Dain's corruption. As we know that body decay is a result of the curse of immortality and corruption are two different things, the latter seems to put a stop to body decay at the cost of one's psyche with everything that involves coming from the Abyss.

[nebbyy]

Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!

King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies

A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!

Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette  which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭

Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!

Word count: 2918

Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.

It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.

It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.

And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.

And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.

With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.

His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy. 

To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.

How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.

His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.

But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.

And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.

When I see the lark beating 

Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun 

That it forgets itself and lets itself fall 

Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart

She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.

Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.

Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me 

Of all those whom I see rejoicing,

But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?

His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.

I wonder that my heart, at that moment, 

Does not melt from desire.

Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil. 

Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.

Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...

Alas! How much I thought I knew 

About love, and how little I know, 

Because I cannot keep myself from loving 

The one from whom I will gain nothing.

"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.

"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”

He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face. 

He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"

You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."

His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.

"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.

"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven." 

You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.

Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"

"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."

"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in. 

For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.

@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3

[yanderes-galore]

First of many. Here we go.

Angel Dust (Platonic)

Your prompts

2

28

61

Sure! These prompts give mental breakdown vibes so... that's exactly what you're getting, lol (Or at least it's what I'm aiming for-)

Yandere! Platonic! Angel Dust Prompts 2, 28, 61

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!"

"Do you know how hard it is to wear a facade? Just to get people to like you?"

"Being alone is worse than you hating me."

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Emotional Manipulation, Mental breakdown, Drinking/Intoxication, Clingy behavior, Poor mental health, Drugs mention, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Projecting trauma, Unhealthy friendship, Swearing, Mature themes, Angst, Overly affectionate behavior, Dubious turned forced companionship.

Since you became a Sinner and entered the Hotel, you were close with Angel Dust. At first you found him a bit jarring and crude. Eventually, however, you managed to become a support system for the both of you.

Naturally you knew about Angel's job. He worked for the Overlord Valentino and said Overlord overworks and... Hurts him. The thought made your blood boil, but it wasn't like you could pick successful fights with an Overlord as a Sinner.

Angel appreciated the sentiment, even if he had to hold you back from attacking his boss.

The issue with Angel's job was his behavior due to it. He was often self destructive, ranting and venting with you and Husk over a strong drink. He's often stressed... But you're always there to help.

In fact, it seems you became a coping mechanism for Angel. With you, he feels like he doesn't have to drown himself in alcohol and drugs. Even Husk notices how calm yet clingy Angel is when you enter the room.

He's always playful with you, a smile on his face when you show concern. You care so much about him.... Angel isn't sure what he'd do without you.

Which is why when you push him away... He nearly breaks.

It's his toxic trait, he's too selfish when it comes to you. However what Sinner or Demon isn't selfish? He's allowed to have nice things, isn't he?

Angel had a tendency to be... Possessive. You are one of the only ones to care for him like this. Which... Makes him follow you around... And be a bit manipulative.

He's allowed to have you... Right?

So who are you to deny him his comfort?

Angel wasn't in his right mind when you chose to distance yourself from him. He had recently come back to the Hotel from a job at Val's studio. He already wasn't pleasant before he had a few drinks.

Yet when he called your name in a needy tone, you didn't come. Why? Well... It seems you noticed you were becoming an unhealthy coping mechanism for him. You knew it wasn't healthy.

But Angel wasn't going to just let you ignore him... Not after all he's gone through.

He didn't care how unhealthy it was. Angel knew he needed you. You helped him get rid of the pain.

Like an addict to a drug... He needed to stay beside you to forget about Val.

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!" Angel yells, his voice in a hiss. "Do you know how in demand I am!? You're lucky I give this much care to you!"

Angel knew deep down he was corrupted. Every sinner was, especially someone like him whose always around Valentino of all people. As much as he hated to admit it... He was acting the same way Valentino acts around him towards you.

"Are you just going to ignore me...?" Angel seethes, laughing softly when you back away from him. "Really now? You act all sweet then abandon me in my darkest moments...."

"I don't mean to, Angel-" You frown. "You've just... This has all been unhealthy lately and-"

"We might need a break?" Angel clicks his tongue, glaring at you. Despite this... You still see a certain softness in his eyes. "Hell no. Healthy? When is any relationship healthy in Hell?"

Angel Dust steps closer, wrapping himself around you in an attempt to feel your warmth. You can tell he's drunk and it appears ranting to Husk didn't work. You push your friend a bit, but he tightens his grip with an annoyed groan.

"Do you know how hard it is to wear a facade? Just to get people to like you!?"Angel growls, "I'm so fucking tired of playing these games!"

"Angel, please! You're a mess...!" You plead, unable to pry the demon off you as you fall onto the couch.

"With you, I don't have to play pretend!" Angel cries out, grip unrelenting. He's in a haze... Unable to think properly. "I can be myself..." You feel his grip loosen... "I don't have to act with you, I don't need to play a role... I just get to have your comfort."

You frown when he slips off you a bit, leaning against you as tears spill down his cheeks. He hated being vulnerable... But he felt he could do that with you. Which is why...

"You can't leave me alone!" Angel sobs, "You can hate me if you want... I don't care...."

He looks you in the eyes... You can see the hurt in his gaze. You don't want to encourage him. However... You find yourself giving into his emotional manipulation.

He really has learned from the best at it.

"Being alone is worse than you hating me." Angel admit, pulling himself closer against you. He perks up when you embrace him... Hiding the grin on his face.

"I don't hate you...." You whisper, the demon watching you closely with watery eyes. "I just wish... You had an easier way to cope."

"You're better than any drink or drug, doll." Angel winks, grinning softly. Even if you were just friends... He was always so affectionate. "Not sure what I'd do without you...."

You stay silent as Angel busies himself with holding you. Truthfully, he'd rather die again than give you up. Part of him feels bad for using you...

Yet he's used to it. Perhaps he's learned more from Val than most think...

"You should feel lucky to have me...."

[fraugwinska]

DoubleTrouble No. 2 - Missionary Impossible

Yes, we did Team up again - the wonderful @macabr3-barbi3 and my humble self wrote another DoubleTrouble fic, based of a hilarious FranticFanfic game result (If you are a writer and have some friends who also indulge in fanfiction, check the game out: www.franaticfanfic.com - Your throat will hate you but the laughter makes it worth it!)

This time we give all of you Vox Lovers a real Treat! Mine is the Readers POV, while Barbie provided Vox's POV - get the TV's dirty version right here.

And now, without further ado:

Explicit Sexual content - Minors DNI - 18+ - 6.5k words

You had to admit: Breaking into Lucifer’s personal vault was your boldest and most impressive job yet. You had your concerns - normally you didn’t take jobs that seemed too shady or downright wrong to you - but you didn’t steal anything powerful, just a bottle of his vanished wife’s perfume. You shake your head at the memory. Most certainly one of her many, still very active superfans, kind of icky to be honest. But money talks, and boy did that client talk.

The only downside had been that for the first time, the 666 Evening News had a picture of you.

Granted, blurry, obstructed and absolutely not usable at all - but it still irked you to no end. They didn’t call you the ‘Traceless Thief’ for nothing.

But even though no one was more the wiser about your identity, even though Lucifer begrudgingly stopped looking for witnesses, even though the gossip on the streets about speculations who the Traceless Thief could’ve been died down - ever since that night, you felt like you were being watched.

The next jobs you take go without news coverage and media attention, and yet, you grow more and more paranoid. Hell has many eyes - figuratively and literally - and you feel them all on you. But there is work to be done and a living to be earned - and the tiny alibi antique bookshop you keep definitely doesn’t provide. No one sane wants old shit in hell - and the rare specimens that do and visit the dingy little space under your apartment come and go, disappointed in the stock you barely keep.

Which is fine by you - you only really need it for one thing. The PO Box.

The wonderfully boring, uninteresting PO Box of the ‘Dusty Pages’ bookshop was your portal to the real money. Hell had become a lot better the day you mastered the powers the underworld granted you: No physical barrier could contain you. Being intangible granted you freedom, and to return to the profession you were best in: Stealing Shit.

Of course, noble causes like overturning corrupt governments by breaking into officials homes and publishing their many crimes was still stealing, if you ask heaven that is, and it landed you in hell. You gave up being salty about it, and made the best out of the situation.

“Hey Frankie. How’s the wife?” The post office clerk, a grumpy looking crocodile in an ill-fitting checkered suit huffs.

“Still fucking annoying, as always. Each day I’m getting closer to bribing an exterminator to kill the bitch just to shut her up for good.”

You chuckled, leaning on the counter and tapping your fingers on the scratched wood.

“Aw, did you burn the meatloaf again? You know Alice hates that.” Frankie gives you an exasperated look, which you meet with a mocking grin.

“You want something? Except for getting on my nerves?”

You shrug, twirling a tiny key on a string around your finger. Frankie, and by proxy Alice too, were parts of your harmless, boring, inconspicuous appearance. Just a normal young sinner, just a normal errand to run, keeping normal small talk with the clerks.

“Just checking my PO Box. I’m waiting on a few rare books I ordered to restock.”

“Uh-huh. Tell someone who gives a shit.”

The crocodile turns away, adjusting his small, round reading glasses and eager to ignore you. Perfect.

“Always nice to chat with you, Frankie.” you say and saunter over to the little door with the number 13. The quiet click always sounds satisfyingly like a little exclamation of joy and like cashflow, and under the ‘Old Crap & Thingamajigs’ catalog you found what you were hoping for. A thick envelope and a letter - new jetstream-bathtub, here you come.

God, why were the VoxTech maintenance uniforms so fucking skimpy?

You grumble silently, cursing yourself that you haven’t grabbed the male one. But that would’ve been suspicious, and you couldn’t afford to be suspicious today. Not if you want to get the job done and live to tell the tale. 

The Vee Tower is full of cameras, hundreds of tiny, red blinking lights next to crystal clear lenses, and dead spots were hard to find and a rare occasion. So, when you couldn’t shift through the walls, you had to look like you belonged. And apparently, a fucking laced, black mini-skirt and a top with puffy sleeves that looked more like a fetish bralette was what it took to ‘belong’. The whole point was blending in, not being remembered - and all the female employees from cleanup and maintenance looked the exact same as you. So, unless one was walking around with a bag full of personnel files on hand, you looked like anyone else on this floor.

You stepped into the elevator, the keycard your client had sent you along with the money and initial job offer in hand. Wherever that person got those precious credentials, you were grateful for them because it gave you an easy way to bypass all the layers of security that VoxTech imposed. All that hassle for an incriminating photo.

You sighed when you pressed the button to floor 66, where the CEO of VoxTech enterprises had his private apartment. Vox.

The name was even more intimidating than Lucifer's to you. While the king of hell was aloof, inactive, disinterested in the ongoings of hell, Vox was the absolute opposite. He knew every little secret. VoxTech had millions of eyes and ears. It was a well known fact that he kept his all-seeing spycams on the whole pentagram and his pliant audience in his steely grasp. Always on top of the times, on top of the news, on top of the sales and on top of any business, shady or not, in hell. In the eyes of the citizens of the Pride Ring, Vox and his partners Valentino and Vevette owned practically everything. He had the largest audience in the history of hell, the sharpest wit and the keenest, calculating eye on the prize - a charming manipulator that was considered very much dangerous and not to be underestimated. Which is why you had to plan your gig for a time you were certain he wasn't around.

A shame really - you couldn’t deny, despite his ruthlessness and questionable business practices with which he had built his empire, you kind of admired the self-made TV-demon that rose to overlord status and made quite a big name for himself in stellar time. That, and he was nice to look at too, even with a flatscreen for a head. Oh well.

The ding of the elevator brought you back to the job at hand, and with confident steps, you glanced up and down the corridor. There were a few cameras pointed to the apartment door, but you found a dead spot not far off, and with a content smile, you walked over as if to inspect the carpet, just to shift as you were out of the camera's angle, your body transpiring through the wall, and with a quiet thud, you were inside.

That was the moment the lights went out.

A power outage was the last thing you had expected - in the Vee Tower of all places. The one place in hell that burst with electricity, and you would laugh at the irony if you weren't so tense. The timing is suspicious,and with a beating heart you shuffle forward, trying to phase through the nearest wall.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows and huff, irritated. The wall is - well, a wall, and while that was a normal state for others, for you? Unimaginable. Your hands are resting against the concrete and steel, normally easy peasy to walk through. But you feel the hardness under your fingertips, much more intense than it should and almost stinging.

Conventional route it is, then, you think begrudgingly and slowly make your way through the corridor, listening into the stillness of the apartment. The corridor led into a spacious living room - flat, modern couches that screamed money and luxury arranged in a half circle, surrounded by various screens, all turned off. In the middle you see the outlines of a metallic, lavish coffee table, empty and clean like in a catalog. It was the kind of space that wasn’t really meant to be lived in, but to show just how much you had that you didn’t really need. A show.

You scanned the room. There was an open arch leading into a kitchen - also polished and top notch empty, not the cluttered mess you had in your apartment - and a closed, narrow door, likely a storage room. But at the opposite end of it, you see a faint, blue stripe of light, teal blue, luring you towards it. A night light maybe, or some indirect mood lighting shit that was all the rage since LED’s hit the Pentagram a few years ago, shining through a cracked door. Intentionally inconspicuous, your brain whispers, but anything was better than the dim darkness you were stumbling in now. 

When you reach the glowing gap and peek cautiously into the adjacent room, one hand almost on the handle, a groan makes you freeze before you could register what you are looking at.

Oh satan.

Vox.

A LOT of Vox.

The overlord was fucking home, and not just that. In his bedroom - your target location - naked, an impressive and glowing cock in hand, working himself in a way he would definitely not appreciate anyone seeing him in. You felt your neck and cheeks flush with heat - another thing you did not expect nor calculate for. But you can’t look away - as surreal and absolutely dangerous this situation is - his deliciously large hands and the sheer sight of his luminous length glistening with precum as he strokes himself cuts your breath short with highly inappropriate lust. The screen in front of him was bright, and for a moment, you were so enraptured with him that you didn’t recognize the silhouette he was pumping himself to.

You.

It’s you.

In this ridiculous maid costume that was unconsciously riding up your ass, sneaking through the corridor, not even half a minute ago. With growing horror you watch yourself taking tentative steps through the living room, the you on the screen hesitating before deciding to move to the left, one arm reaching out to a cracked open door.

“Fuck, yes.”

The words were barely said when your brain kickstarts.

Fuck, no.

He knew. He knew you were here.

In a flight of panic, you bolted for the corridor, back to the door, back to the safety of not-fucking-here, but you couldn’t even make four steps before your wrists were bound by cables shooting out of the walls surrounding you. You ready yourself to slip through them, but again, your powers leave you high and dry again. Helpless, you back away into the nearest wall, and the door opens fully, with the TV demon standing in the frame. Tall, intimidating even butt-fucking-naked, and a cocky smile on his HD face.

“Hello, my dear,” he almost coos and takes a few steps towards you as you writhe in the restrictions, desperately trying to slip out and get the fuck away. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”

“Invitation?” That makes you still against the cables, your eyes darting over his face, confused. What the hell does that mean? You weren’t invited, you had a job to... Oh. Oh shit.

“You’re the client?”

His face was answer enough, and you would have slapped yourself for your stupidity if he hadn't had you in an iron grip. A loud game-show ding startles you back into the here and now, he was so much closer than before…

“Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?”

He traces his fingers down your cheek, his tips sparking with static electricity. How fucked up are you that this turns you on? Not being able to suppress the need to glance at his still shining and ripped cock again, you swallow hard. Where is your sense of self-preservation? Apparently left outside of this apartment, along with your usual foresight and dignity.

Cables wrap around your thighs and with a yelp you feel yourself getting lifted, legs parted by the wires. You almost topple over but are caught by his hands on your arms and faced with a smirk when you press your back into the wall, stabilizing yourself with a reddened face.

“Those didn’t come with the uniform,” He has the audacity to wink at you, nudging to the black lace panties you wear - excuse a girl for not wearing granny panties in the workplace - and you want to retort something snarky to him, when he looks at you that way. 

Within a moment, you realize two things.

Firstly, with the way he was roaming your body, his eyes lingering not only on your face, but your tits and the flimsy underwear concealing your very obvious wet arousal - you were fucked one way or the other. Which should’ve terrified you. Emphasis on ‘should’.

Because the other thing was, that even though he had bound you, even though you were at the mercy of this powerful sinner who tricked and trapped you here, rendering your power useless with whatever-the-fuck… he didn’t seem malicious, but rather… curious? Fascinated? Playful? You can’t really pinpoint it, but something tells you that - if you play your cards right - you might get more out of this make-pretend job than a jetstream-bathtub and hopefully all your limbs intact. And most importantly - you have nothing to lose.

“They're from my personal collection - lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform." It takes a lot to steady your voice as you talk, with the way his clawed hands run along the insides of your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He cocks his brow, as if he's pleasantly surprised, and licks his lips before he answers, his voice sultry and dripping of sexual tension.

"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say. Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."

You gasp as you feel the soft fabric being pushed aside and long fingers running lightly through your drenched folds. Fuck, you can already tell just how skilled those fingers must be. How great they'd feel deep inside you. Involuntarily, you buck your hips to guide them to where you wanted them most - onto your clit and burrowed to his knuckles - the desperation just dripping from you as he chuckles and lets his thumb glide over the throbbing pearl teasingly teasingly as he pushes one of his digits in. Your head rolls against the wall behind you with a needy moan escaping your lips and you have to bite them to stay focussed for what you were about to do.

"What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."

The rest of his sentence died in his throat, replaced by a low, long and stuttering moan. Half shocked, half aroused, he looked down to his throbbing cock, then his head snapped up to you, grinning down on him. You moved your hips again, grinding down on his unmoving fingers, frozen in place at his confusion, confirming your suspicion that he didn't know about your other power. Not as strong as your intangibility, sure, but strong enough for him to feel - and see - the ghostly hand you envisioned around his dick, continuing what he started, pumping him in leisurely, slow strokes. 

"Didn't know about that move, doll." His hand comes alive again, and even though his voice glitches a bit he adds another one, much more tenderly and almost softly, properly prepping you. And judging by the circumference of the cock you feel through your spectral hand, it was more than precaution, but nothing less than a mercy. Mercy you were ready to beg for, given his thumb would continue the delicious circles it drew, just the right pressure, just the right pace to push you near the edge without tipping you over it.

"You're just a whole mystery, huh?"

Now fairly certain your head wouldn't roll at the end of this encounter, you let your last reservations slide. It has been too long since you were in the hands of a skilled lover, one that didn't disappoint, that didn't come too soon or drilled amateurishly into you in search for the g-spot they never found. This one knew what he was doing, finally, and by satan you wouldn't waste this opportunity. Make it a night to remember, and who knows? If you fuck his brains out, maybe he'd be knocked out long enough after for you to make a quick and easy exit. You imagined the spectre hand to twist, its thumb mapping the soft ridges around the crown. That seems to do the trick for Vox, and the look he shoots you deeply satisfies. "Fuck me, that's good."

Playing into this sentiment, you didn’t stifle the moans his damn fingers stroke out of you, the way they glide in and out, pressure on all the right marks without fail is too good to hold back. Your skin felt on fire, even without him touching anything but your pussy, and you felt no energy left to care that your clothes - if you would call them that - seemed to fall apart on your body, skirt pushed up to your waist, top loose around your shoulders and almost down enough to let your boobs fall out. You must look a mess, but then again the overlord didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He looked outright hungry, eyes glitching occasionally with a particular squeeze of your hand or a poignant lustful moan from your lips.

“Do you have to concentrate to do that?”

“A little.”

His fingers hitting that one sweet spot inside you, cutting any other, more elaborate explanation short. Fucking hell, that you had to get tricked and trapped by an overlord to find a man that doesn’t think ‘foreplay’ is the interview before a soccer game was a fucking travesty. Grateful for that fact you withdraw from your own pleasure and decided to reward him, regaining your concentration enough to imagine a second hand to pay attention to the firm, very plump balls of his, rolling them in its palm and giving them a gentle, tentative squeeze.

“Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”

As if you challenged him, there’s a subtle change in his demeanor - his eyes more inquisitive, his fingers more eager and fervent, and a third one joined the others, stretching you oh-so-deliciously. For a moment you think you’d lose control, the ghost hands flickering before you got a grip on them again, determined to not tip the scales so soon. But you had to admit - it was tempting, to give into this implied command: Submit, let me take care of you, let me fuck you dumb.  

Little did he know, you were all about equality - or nothing at all. And if he was allowed to plow you with three fingers, surely he couldn’t protest against a third hand.

You weren’t sure how you’d manage it… the power was new, still waiting to be mastered, but you willed a third hand into reality, joining the one on his balls, softly working their way down and massaging his perineum. It strained you to no end, operating the conjured hands while Vox was adamant to make you cum on his fingers alone, but with how the cables shook and loosened around you, you were fairly certain it was enough to show him you meant business, your message clear: If anything, baby, we will fuck each other dumb. 

You watch with almost painful arousal how his screen flashes from the three-way-stimulation, his teeth slightly baring from the sensation but without losing his cocky smirk, as if to show his resilience.

"You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve."

With a wince from you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, empty and fucking whining at the loss, eyes sharp and with a dangerous glint in them. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."

He kneels down then, opens his mouth, and you can't believe your eyes as a thick, long, very analog blue tongue unfolds and licks his lips hungrily and almost impatiently. A hand around each thigh spreading you almost impossibly wide, the hot breath feels chilling against your slick opening, and a brush of the tip of his tongue on your swollen clit makes your toes curl and your muscles tense with expectation. Your gaze, locked with his, breaks only when your head throws back and you moan out his name as he truly begins to eat you out. 

No teasing or games, no building up the tension - it's unmerciful, frenetic, his tongue alternately flickering on your clit with its pointed tip and pushing deep into your core with an almost unbearable thickness until there was no space left to be filled, tasting every little centimeter inside. Instinctively, your real hands twitch in their restraints, wanting to reach out, grab his head, the frame of his screen, fucking anything really just to have something of him to hold onto and push. Your hips can't hold still, but he made sure not to lose an inch as his hands gripped your ass down and into him as if he heard your thoughts, drawing you deeper into his maw as he devours you. Your spirit hands fade in and out, your mind unable to keep them steadily corporeal - he was too good, his tongue was too good, not once did his rhythm falter nor the damn thing slow down, giving you no chance to collect yourself.

Finally - oh god finally - his cables loosened enough for you to dart your hands towards him, finding a saving anchor on his arms. You literally felt like you were drowning - wet and out of breath, senses fogged by that wonderfully violent tongue swiping and licking and prodding and fucking pulsing. When he hummed into your cunt, all dams broke, and you could only stutter “fuck, cumming - oh my God-” before you snapped and you fell into the depths of your orgasm.

Whatever prick, mouth or fingers you had on and in you before - this erased them all. Never before felt your head so light, your cunt so heavy and hell so divine.

His relentless licks make you mewl with every stroke as he rides you through your high, but he just doesn’t stop. Greedy, rawing your abused cunt to a point where moans turn into almost pained whimpers and your body twitches and squirms, begging for him to relent.

Mercifully he understands, and when he stands up, you only passingly realize with a pang of bad conscience that your spectre limbs have dissipated somewhere along the line, leaving him high and dry - only metaphorically, because his cock was soaked in leaking cum.

He hooks your legs over his arm, his other snaking around your waist to lift you from the wall, and you made no motion to resist it, being that the prospect of his soft sheets on his bed were much more preferable than color-coated concrete on your back. The short walk over feels like the eye of the storm - a short illusion of a safe space, and you use it to assess the damage.

For one - the ‘clothes’ you wore were useless now, they did nothing clothes were supposed to do - The sleeves were half-ripped from the bralette, hanging by a thread, and the top itself so far down your tits were fully out, nipples dark and flushed, while the skirt was nothing more than a drape at this point, hiding the mess on your thighs and reddened, puffed lips.

Then you look up through your lashes, up to the best lay you ever had, down below as well as up above. You should plan your escape, should use the time you had now to calculate what to do to get the fuck out while you could - Instead your horny little fucked-up brain was busy imagining how you could draw this out, make him so pussydrunk he’d send another decoy job weekly, just so you could return to that magic tongue again and again.

You were right. The sheets felt soft and obscenely expensive. You spread your fingers, the only real motion you were still able to make for now, taking his roaming gaze and the appreciative expression on his screen as a badge of honor. Your senses tingled, and you blinked one, two times, listening into your powers. The walls of his apartment were prepped by him to prevent you from leaving - electricity most likely, something intangible itself - but the ceiling and floors weren’t.

“Got another round in you, baby?”

You look up to him as he wraps your legs around his waist,lining himself up to you, tip ready and loaded. But he doesn’t push in. He waits, and you could cry as he does so.

Fucking hell, the ruthless media overlord half of hell fears to the point they piss themselves is waiting for your consent.

It’s this unexpected, contradictory duality that draws your lips into a smile. Trapping you in his territory, able to kill you with his goddamn pinkie, and yet the only thing he does is make you cum on his mouth and wait for a ‘yes’ to fuck you mindless - how could you not fall for that? Even more, how could you not test your luck with that?

With regained strength you reach for his dick, fingers wrapping firmly around his girthy base. His body follows your gentle guidance, and he lets himself glide into your ready heat with a groan that sends a shiver down your spine - such an earnest sound it makes you want to return the favor tenfold. And you just knew the way you could.

“You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” Voice like honey, you refocus your mind, visualizing the wicked idea that had entered your mind.

A soft hand. Long, flexible fingers, slick and smooth and ready. It formed as you thought it, stroking the cleft of his ass, halting at the tight ring of muscle it found, testing his reaction with a teasing, light press against his opening.

The reaction was priceless. Face glitching, hips jerking violently forward into you as its fingers pass his entrance and slide into him, coming to a halt at that one, very sensitive spot. His breath is ragged and eyes fucking wild, but the way he bends down, gripping your hands to entangle them with yours and pressing as much midnight-blue skin against yours tells you that he doesn’t exactly hate it.

“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, grinning at the way he shudders at the sultry tone of your voice and the challenging eyes of yours, hilted in your pussy still, taking the ghostly fingers like a good boy.

“Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls - the floor is fair game - ah fuck-”

He found some of his senses back, his thrust surprising your nerves with a sudden jolt of electricity - added by him or imagined by you, you can’t tell. He fills you so perfectly, as if molded just for you, big and hard and absolutely sublime, and when he brings his knees up more and bends you at the waist he manages to push in even deeper, pounding almost at your cervix with increasingly feverish, tough thrusts. Again, he wanted to break your concentration, but this time, you were prepared. You let your body do what you trained it to do - it goes hazy, misty, almost translucent in a blue-ish hue, revealing the vision of his buried prick deep inside you, teal glow in navy mist, before you solidify again and find the strength to grin up at him.

“If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.”

There was a wicked glint on that screen of his, and he upped the pace of his snapping hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

"Guess you'll have to move in then, baby." His voice sounds almost distorted, his body starts to spark with fizzing bolts of electric energy, and when he grips the headboard with one hand to gain more momentum to fuck even faster and stronger into you, you almost want to take him up on that quip, convinced his apartment was equipped with more than just a boring jetstream hot tub.

Your spirit fingers stroke in a come-hither motion over his prostate, over and over, varying in pressure, intensity and speed, and each swipe makes him moan a little louder, driving his dick a little deeper into you. It's becoming a race towards a finish line none of you wanted to get to in the first place, a fight of wills and bodies, pushing you to your limits judging by the way your oversensitive pussy clenches, begging for release once more. But by Satan himself you did not intend to lose without a good fight, your fingers raking over his lithe back and the sharp edges of his body, lingering, scraping, writing wordless praises into his skin in red streaks.

“In fact, sweetheart,” he says as he pounds you and your pants become out even louder, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave - you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”

Vox, too, is close, you can see it, hear it, most importantly feel it. One hand remaining on the headboard, the other scoops you up by your neck, pulling you onto his face in a kiss so breathtaking and fierce you almost pass out. It's sloppy and lustful, it's lips against lips and tongue on tongue, and your ability to use either becomes redundant when you and him both simultaneously cry out, orgasms overlap and intertwine, you cunt clenching tightly around his pulsating length, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum into you as your own release drips onto the soaked sheets below. Your eyes roll back, the fingers buried inside his tightened ass vanish and your muscles relax. With his hand still on your neck, claws digging into your skin, he slowly brings you back onto the mattress to let you fall together with him.

Silence settles for a second. A brief moment of stillness and clarity, sweat cooling your skin, hearts slowing down and breathing returning to normalcy. You feel the aftermath of his touches everywhere. His marks litter you from top to bottom: Your wrists and thighs are covered in red streaks from the tightness of his cable bondage. Your whole skin tingles from the waves of his inherent electric current. But most telling of all was the pooling mess inside of you, already leaking.

You let yourself feel the weight of his body on yours - it's an intoxicating feeling, the heat radiating off his dark blue skin, and the subtle charge beneath, a hidden hum underneath your fingertips, telling of the immense power of an Overlord you just let fuck you senseless. Now would be the time to run - his screen was completely blue, turned off while he recovered his breath - if you wanted, you could disappear, and he wouldn't be able to stop you or track you down. But when you searched the depths of your mind and body for regret and the sense of danger it brought - there was none. Only satiated warmth, an afterglow you could bathe in, like a warm, healing balm, easing your aching bones and bruised skin.

And just in that moment of resolve, Vox’s screen returned to show his face, and he lifted his head slightly to look at you with eyes as bright and vivid as the neon signs lighting up the streets of the entertainment district outside his windows.

One Month Later

“Thanks babes, I was about to lose my shit when Velma and Kelly fucking quit on me. Bunch of pussies, those two, seriously.”

You shoot Velvette a smile over your shoulder, adjusting the last couple of details on six of her girls, ghostly blue hands hovering around them - clipping a collar here, buckling a shoe there. You pity the two foolish girls - the runway show had Velvette occupied tonight, but tomorrow - well, you were sure Vel was about to annihilate their sorry stylist asses for blowing her off last minute… and not just with a snarky post on Sinstagram.

“No problem, Vel, that’s what I’m here for.”

The small woman laughs sarcastically, but not in the usual mean way, but a playful one, a friendly one. That was one of the things you could pride yourself on - That Velvette, social media queen and judge of what’s hot and not, fell in love with you almost as fast and hard as Vox did.

“Darling, we both know that no one really knows what exactly Vox hired you for. What was the job description he pulled out of his flat ass again?” she raises a cocky brow, sipping obnoxiously on her iced coffee to go in her hands, holding out another, identical one for you. “Ah, yes, ‘ASS’.”

You take the drink from her, smiling mischievously back at her. When Vox came up with that title, he didn’t even notice the ambiguity of its abbreviation, and you let him stew over it for almost a day before you told him, silently convinced your fingers left a memorable impression. “It’s ‘Administrative Services Specialist', and what can I say? My resumee was very convincing.”

Velvette snorts into her vanilla foam. “Funny name for your cunt love, but you do you. Now shoo. Didn’t you and flatface have a date tonight?”

You wave her a quick goodbye, sipping up the cold drink in one gulp and throwing it into the trash as you bypass it, hurrying down the hall and plucking the private keycard from your back pocket. You scan it at the elevators, noticing the other employees backing away from you, and you couldn’t hide the grin that flashed your face. No one dared to ride in that elevator with you, a very badly kept secret that it sent you one way straight to Vox’s apartment, and every one of them would rather chew glass than be caught by whatever awaited the opening elevator doors.

And Vel was right - you had a date with Vox, a special one at that.

Barely three weeks ago you actually did move in - call it a whim of insanity, call it fate - and since that, your days were filled with a job in the Vee Tower that you actually liked (no one shed a tear at the ‘Dusty Pages’ closure notice) and the nights were spent naked, sweaty and blissfully explicit under, on top and any other possible way with Vox in his bed. You learned something new about yourself - with the right partner, you were almost insatiable. Another thing you learned was that Vox seemed to feel just the same. Lucky coincidences indeed.

But date night was something special. Giving up the alibi bookshop was easy enough - but you were adamant that you still wanted to do your other jobs.

Not because of the money - Vox provided generously, and wouldn’t take a cent from you (although you managed to convince him to let you buy him at least snacks and small gifts, an exception you abused to the absolute limit). No, you actually liked to sneak through the night, liked the thrill of moving in the shadows and shifting through secured buildings. Liked the excited arousal you felt after a completed heist.

To preserve your secret, you and Vox decided that you wouldn’t reveal your main power to the others at Vee Tower, the only other people who knew were Velvette and Valentino.

The latter wasn’t your biggest fan, and who could blame him, giving that you were living with  and fucking his ex-lover, but he had his own flings and things to take care of, and after a few occasions where you stepped in to help him out at shoots and with his scripts, he at least became cordial towards you.

But date night was where you went out to do a job, secured through Vox for one of his many business partners, and the pool of people the TV demon had on hands that needed or wanted something of value was a bottomless pit from which you could choose the ones you liked the best. And your digital lover not only organized your gigs - he became your eyes and ears, your literal partner in crime.

The doors open, and Vox stands waiting, leaning, in the doorway, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

“You’re late, doll.”

“I know I know, but Vel needed some helping hands - you know I can’t leave her hanging.”

“Oh, I saw.”, he chuckles, his screen switching from his face to images of you from the security cameras on Velvettes floor, close ups of your face, your tits and ass sprinkled in between. ”You know I can never see enough of you, gotta keep those cameras on.”

You scoffed, but did so with a smile before you kissed him and ran off into the closet, undressing quickly while he followed you, letting himself fall down on his bed and watching you intensely as you peeled your clothes from your body and slipped into your signature skintight suit. By the time you were changed his cock was hard, straining his pants which you acknowledged with an appreciative smile.

You both exchange longing looks, but time is ticking. You put the newest addition to your equipment in your ear - a tiny, wireless headset, directly connected to Vox, bend over the bed, your tongue running over the warm line of his lower lip and sigh as he groans with want.

“I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”

You can’t seem to tear yourself from him with those big hands on your ass squeezing tightly and that goddamn tongue in your mouth, your mind half decided to tell your client to fuck off and fuck the demon in front of you senseless. But he gently pulls away, his eyes burning not only with need, but also with pride. A look you loved to see on him.

“And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.”

He slaps your ass as you pass him, and you shift through the wall, now almost as eager to steal that stupid looking red duck from some dingy, rundown hotel as you were to return to his waiting cock to cash in your salary.

[lucistarrrrs]

I'M SO SICK OF MYSELF

Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter! Reader

(platonic)

Genre: Drama, Comedy.

Summary: Athaliah is the second daughter of Lucifer Morningstar and Lilith Morningstar. Lilith sees Athaliah as a spare of heir to the throne of hell, as they grew up Athaliah felt a little envy and wrath. Until she awakens her powers almost destroyed hell and killing every sinner the corruption spreads wide through hell even the seven rings.

Part 1

Charlie Morningstar the oldest and delusional daughter of Lucifer Morningstar and Lilith Morningstar then Lilith was pregnant again with a girl. Charlie was happy that she had a baby sister and she sang her sister a lullaby they named her Athaliah.

When Athaliah reached 109 years old she was a daddy's girl and a little bit too powerful. When Athaliah felt  jealous of Charlie cause Lilith saw her as a spare of heir to the throne. Now Athaliah reached 116  years old she was losing control and slowly went insane as she destroyed everything in hell and everyone. Lucifer just watched his young daughter as she went mad. Charlie was crying that the sinners were screaming and trying to survive.

As Athaliah reaches her insanity Lucifer calls the seven deadly sins. they gather around Athaliah and summon chains around Athaliah, sealing away her power. Athaliah screamed in pain, though Lucifer still continued despite her daughters' painful screams, he felt his heart sinking.

The seven deadly sins were struggling to seal her power. Athaliah was trying to escape the chains.

"LET ME GO YOU IMBECILES, YOU LOW LIFE DEMONS!! I WANT TO SEE THE WOMAN WHO NEGLECTED ME! WHO LEFT ME TO THE SIDE!" Athaliah screamed with a distorted voice. Lucifer was still trying to keep her powers sealed.

"SHIT LUCIFER YOUR DAUGHTERS' POWERS ARE EXTREMELY POWERFUL!" Mammon shouted as he was trying to keep the seal.

"JUST FOCUS ON THIS MAMMON" Asmodeus yelled at Mammon. As they finished the sealing of her powers, her sealed power turned into a ring, Lucifer caught it.

Lucifer looked at his daughter who was exhausted and she passed out. Beelzebub runs towards the girl "She's in coma but I don't know when she'll wake up" Beelzebub said in the concerned tone Lucifer runs towards Athaliah and caresses her face filled with bruises and some chains left on her.

After that Lucifer was talking with Lilith and they ended up splitting up. While Athaliah is not waking up Lucifer takes care of her and Charlie is with her mother.

Lucifer looks at the ring that Athaliah powers are in the ring he looks at Athaliah in a coma. No one knows when she's gonna wake up.

All the pentagram city and rings of hell were getting rumours that the second princess of hell almost destroyed everything in hell.

THREE MONTHS LATER...

Athaliah is woken up from her coma and Lucifer was there for her.

Lucifer tried to calm her down but it wasn't an easy task. Athaliah saw the family portrait and was even more irritated, but Lucifer finally got through her by saying "Athaliah, your mother loves you" Lucifer some comfort words to Athaliah.

"NO SHE DOESN'T ALL SHE CARE ABOUT THAT MY DELUSIONAL OLDER SISTER WANTS SOME REHABILITATED SINNERS AND THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!!" Athaliah screamed, and she was stressed.

Lucifer sighs, and he sings her favorite lullaby. She flinched that his dad was singing her favorite lullaby. Athaliah looked at her father.

As Athaliah calmed down, she laid her head on Lucifer's lap, and Lucifer caressed her long hair. "Dad, I want to cut my hair," Athaliah said out of the blue. Lucifer was shocked at this then he agreed.

Lucifer grabbed some sciccors and started to cut Athaliah's long hair into a jellyfish haircut then she wears that something she wants. She bought everything like baggy pants, cargo pants, an oversized t-shirt and some video games. She stays at the penthouse for....a long time she doesn't go out much.

Lucifer taught how to control her powers and teach some new powers that evolve around her. Athaliah stares at the family portrait Lilith, Charlie, Lucifer, while Athaliah is behind at Lucifer being a little shy kid she looks at Lilith.

The music background starting Athaliah listen to the song O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.

Lift up your voice, lift up your voice

Children

Rejoice, rejoice

Hey little train, we're jumping on

Athaliah tries to resist her tears every time she sees the pictures.

The train that goes to the kingdom

We're happy, Ma , we're having fun

The train ain't even left the station

Hey little train, wait for me

I once was blind but now I see.

Lucifer heard the song in Athaliah's room, and he was guilty about his family being split up. Athaliah was crying but she found a way to cope with her stress playing videogames the whole night.

In the morning...

Athaliah heard her door knocking she opened the door is her father Lucifer bringing some rubber duck that looks like her, She had a lot of rubber ducks in her room like plushies.

"Hey...umm... Athaliah why don't you go outside for a bit" Lucifer asked his daughter to go outside "No." Athaliah said directly and closed the door.

Lucifer sighs that his daughter is not a sociable person and active now she's an introvert and despises the sinners.

One time Lucifer heard banging and rushed to Athaliah's room "WHAT HAPPENED ATHALIAH?!" Lucifer shouted open the door to her room.

"I LOST 50/50 DAD I WANT NAHIDA THAT MOTHERFUCKER LONG RED HAIRED ASS BITCH IS GETTING ME IRRITATED," Athaliah shouted, punching the plushies. Lucifer was dumbfounded when she looked at the gacha game that she plays, and Athaliah was addicted to it.

Athaliah was wearing some white oversized hoodie with skeleton on the back and some baggy pants. She had some posters around like anime and games.

"Dad do you have a meeting with...the first man shit alive like...Adam maybe you should give that to my delusional older sister Charlie" Athaliah asked as she continue to play genshin impact Lucifer was confused by this "I'm a little a busy cause I got a meeting with the deadly sins" Lucifer answered he thinks for a moment then he took his phone and calling Charlie.

"Yeah.. whatever I'm gonna play some genshin impact see you later Dad and buy me some books" Athaliah said as she was on her PC.

As she eats some pancakes for dinner like some fried oreo she always orders her father to cook some pancakes.

Athaliah was struggling to control her powers and Lucifer looked at her and walked towards her she taught her how to control and how to fly.

Then..Six months later

Lucifer slammed the door open Athaliah fell to her bed "Dads stop... doing...that" Athaliah was annoyed and yawned with her canine teeth.

"WE'RE GOING TO YOUR SISTER HOTEL" Lucifer was excited to meet Charlie "Not going" Athaliah said as she went back to her bed.

Lucifer put his hands in his waist and tapped his foot two Athaliah eyes widened when she heard her father tapping footsteps.

" Fine I'll go..." Athaliah sighs as she gets ready her outfit white polo with a red vest and high waisted pants.

"Why do I have to go?" Athaliah asked to her father and she fixes her hair and she flips her hair upward and Lucifer was also fixing his hair.

"You haven't met your sister in a long time, so what's the harm in doing so?" Lucifer explained to her daughter, Athaliah was irritated by this.

As they teleport to the Hotel "Hazbin... Hotel?" Athaliah looked at the signs and cringe by this and the designs of this hotel.

Athaliah looked at the door and she felt something off about this place, she quint her eyes as the door opened.

To be continued

[yestrday]

the first thing I think of when Reader is portrayed as naive and innocent in an AU is how in the future they’re worse then all their hybrids combined, and I’m getting some major brainrot over the hybrid AU so just hear me out here ‼️‼️

Reader was of course innocent and naive, sheltered in every way, but that was before their father suddenly decided that playing the role of a doting father in public would boost his dying image more then keeping reader locked up

So Readers thrust into the life of an heir, forced to come to grips with the cold harsh reality that is the business world, and realize that they’re never going to have any true power or freedom as long as their father is still around

So they plan and scheme, analyzing their fathers greatest achievements and his worst failures, learning all about how to play the business world, and people in general, like a fine tuned instrument. Just patiently waiting till their fathers gradual cover ups over the years suddenly make their way into the public eye.

And when it’s revealed that Readers parent abandoned them and then picked them up again for his entertainment, forcing them to turn to mere hybrids for genuine human interaction?

Well, both those concerned for Reader, and those not, take note. Suddenly investigations are happening and their fathers tax fraud and million dollar bribes are revealed, and oh what’s that, he’s also involved in multiple different crime organizations? How horrible

Reader miraculously finds themself to be the CEO how every company that their father had, an owner of all of his properties, and immeasurably rich beyond belief when their father dies in jail under simply tragic circumstances.

Only this time, Reader won’t let the opportunity to take the world by storm pass by. After all, they have a rather beautiful collection of hybrids waiting at home for them, and you know how clingy beloved pets are when you make them wait.

You cant blame the poor darlings though, the public whispers behind lustful gazes and adoring stares, they just can’t get enough of their powerful owner

actually anon this ask (which has been fermenting in my ask for a year now) has been the inspiration in why there's been a whole heir sub plotline in my hybird works.

i like the idea of the hybrids subtly corrupting the innocent bird that's been in their cage for far too long, now able to spread their wings but just doesn't know how. they feed darling whispers about how their parent abandoned them, how they're the only family they have. and all of them are oh so eager to follow reader's convoluted schemes to bring down their father and the company's enemies.

i find that corrupting darling would have many benefits to the hybrids. one, well, corruption arc? it would be just so lovely to see your naivety crushed and broken, making you rely on them not as your protectors but also as your fellow sinners in this plan. two, since you're so influential, you'll be able to at least influence society's views on hybrids. you'll be in a high enough position to influence lawmakers to loosen their binds on hybrids, to make hybrids equal... idk, just a thought.

this only applies to zhongli, since he's bound by a contract to your father, but this could be the perfect opportunity to revenge. what better way to take revenge on the man who coerced you into a humiliating contract than watch his own flesh and blood (who he does love despite all his callousness) impeach him from his throne and throw him into jail. it's perfect. plus, he'll be able to spend freedom with you forever and ever <3

[hcllsbigboss]

"You have nothing to worry about, I'll take care of everything!" Lucifer reassured Charlie while she gave him a grateful squeeze.

And with a final warning from Vaggie. The girls left him alone in the lobby with a slam of the front doors. He had just promised he'd look after the hotel in their absence. Making sure everything ran smoothly should any new sinners show up. Luckily they already had Husk in place to greet any new folks that came in through the doors. He supposed he would just have to make sure the place remained welcoming and uplifting just as Charlie had envisioned it to be. Something that he didn't think would be all that hard. She had gotten all of that ambition and kindness from him, after all. As hard as that might be for some to believe. He was still an angel - a fallen angel, but still an angel nonetheless. Which of course set him on a different level than sinners or demons, at least in his mind it did.

There was just one little concern that he had which might make this whole thing hard for him. And that little concern happened to be an Overlord. The even one that lurked around the hotel like a living shadow. Hell, he might as well be with all those tricks he had. Lucifer wasn't at all sure what his intention was for being there still. He still suspected the sinner to want to corrupt his daughter somehow with evil schemes, likely for the purpose of fulfilling his own selfish goals. That's how most sinners worked anyway. And the reason why he was having a hard time with all of this now. Because it had failed once when he was shown how horrible they could be.

Charlie had proved some could be saved though.

He knew this and that's why he was willing to stand behind her and support the hotel. But he also believed there were still plenty of sinners who didn't care to be saved. And enjoyed being in Hell. The deprivation of it. Give those sinners enough power and that's how Overlords had come to be. Alastor was no different. Just what was he up to? Lucifer felt he had every right to be suspicious of him. Especially when bot even Charlie seemed sure as to why he had showed up out of the blue. Of all the sinners... it just so happened to be one of few that knew how to get under skin. Annoying and smug. Two of the worst traits he found in sinners. It all just rubbed him the wrong way.

Speaking of which-- Lucifer had noticed that ever since they got the new hotel up, he hadn't seen much of the Radio Demon. Which was interesting since he had decided to stay there himself, he would have expected to be seeing more of him. But the sinner had more or less kept himself holed up inside the radio tower of his. Even now when the hotel had been left in his care, there was no sign of him. No flickering of the shadows to indicate he might be listening. Not even the slightest hint of static echoing from the halls. That was unusual from what he had been subjected to since his arrival. Not that he was complaining about the quiet. It just had him all the more skeptical that he could be up to anything good.

He'd better check it out. Just to ensure the hotel remained as Charlie wanted it to be.

Approaching the door the radio tower, he didn't bother knocking. Certain that it'd be ignored even if he tried. Of course he was met with a secure lock - preventing him from getting inside. Which gave him only a couple options. He could knock and wait or he could walk away and pretend he never noticed a difference. And while the latter was tempting to him - he had to know what was going on. If anything. Lucifer has the power to knock the door down himself, but that would be throwing out this whole thing that Charlie was trying to do.

A huff left him. Guess he would for the moment, just swallow his pride and knock. And if there wasn't an answer ? Well, he'd figure that out if it came down to it. He gave the door a firm rap, not necessarily pounding on it but loud enough that it should have at least caught the demon's attention. That is if he was in there.

Planned starter @angelichooves -Alastor

Main verse- The Cure

[samsalami66]

Here we go again with a fun little drabble, this time for a spontaneous Knight!Hob and Prince!Dream au (which will probably get a few more additions lmao). It all started with my lovely @im-not-corrupted handing me the prompt "you know, it's ok if you're not ok" from this wonderful prompt list.

----

Dream ran down a corridor, his coat billowing behind him like an angry cloud of black smoke, set to destroy everything that would dare to stand between him and this God-forsaken door deep within the bowels of the castle. 

Dream ran, and it was the first time Dream remembered running since his childhood years, when he had been a naught but a babe, excited to explore every nook and corner of the massive palace that he called his home. Of course the first time he was forced to engage in such physical activity in as many years, it would be Hob Gadling's fault. Because it was always Hob Gadling's fault, from the moment he stepped foot into the throne room and announced he would become Dream's personal guardian, a Knight in his name alone, loyal to none other than the Prince of the Dreaming. 

What is he at fault for? a curious reader might ask, and Dream would whirl around on his heel and give a whole list of things Sir Robert Gadling could be blamed for, if only indirectly. 

For the blush he forced onto Dream's pale cheeks anytime their gazes met over a particularly boring dinner with his family. Perhaps also for the way Dream's heart skipped a beat whenever Hob spoke up to the King and Queen on his behalf, a feat so terrible even the most noble of men had failed before him. Good thing Hob was no nobleman, no son of high houses nor of new money. 

He was an idiot, first and foremost. A talented, quick witted and patient idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. After all, who just waltzes into a room with the King and Queen in it and promises undying loyalty to their adolescent son who no one particularly likes and expects it to simply work? And who decides to simply enter a jousting match without any former training or experience for fun?

Hob Gadling, of course, which was just one more example of things he could be blamed for. 

Nil consideration for his own physical well-being. 

Idiot. 

Dream was about to say as much as he threw open the door to Hob's chambers, but every ill thought spent towards his Knight's stupidity was immediately dropped as Dream found him hunched over the back of his armchair, one hand clutching at his bare chest as it rose and fell in quick succession. 

God's wounds, Dream had seen how Hob got shoved out of his saddle, how the lance had connected with his armor plate and sent him flying from his horse in one spectacular arch. But he never could have guessed just how bad it must have hurt, even through the steel and cloth. The bruise on Hob's chest was an angry black, his sides spotted with a deep red where his ribs were most definitely fractured. 

"Hob," the name left Dream's lips like a plea, like God's name would fall from a sinner's lips who prayed for salvation. And he did pray for salvation, in a way. Not his own, but salvation from endless pain nonetheless.

The man in question looked up between sweaty brows, a pained grimace painting his usual smile an ugly gray. Dream found himself by his side faster than lightning, hands coming up to hover helplessly over Hob's chest. 

Hob sighed at the concern clearly plastered into every corner of Dream's face, the way his lips tugged downwards in an obvious display of his dislike for the position he found Hob in. 

"Don't you worry for me, my Lord. I'm… fine. I'm fine, I promise." 

Tragically, the trustworthiness of this statement was negated by a heavy cough wrecking Hob's body, which left him groaning in pain over his injuries. 

"You are not fine, Robert Gadling," Dream hissed in response, hands finally coming to a rest on Hob's back. "Which is. Alright. It is alright if you are not alright. Just, please, lay down, my friend. You must rest."

Thankfully, Hob did not fight Dream as he was pushed towards his bedroom, and neither did he when Dream gently pressed him down into the mattress with a careful hand to his shoulder. His breath was still heavy and his eyes half-lidded as he looked up at Dream, something vulnerable hidden behind the dark brown of his eyes that Dream could not quite decipher in the near darkness of the bedroom. 

"Will you stay? My Lord?" Hob whispered, apparently balancing carefully between the realm of sleep and the world of the waking. 

"No duty could possibly force me from your side, my half-witted Knight." Dream responded quietly, his heart warming considerably at the soft smile that crept into his friend's eyes at the endearment, before they eventually fell close and Hob got pulled into deep and restful slumber. 

Dream placed a single feather-light kiss to the dark spot on Hob's chest before settling into the other side of the bed, his eyes fixed on the slowing rise and fall of Hob's breast. 

Hob Gadling really was an idiot.

Dream's idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

[knight-a3]

Hazbin Sketchbook Tour part 3

Masterpost

I started some preliminary sketches of Charlie to get a feel for her. I wasn't exactly happy with them. I did like how Alastor turned out in the dancing one, just...not the rest of it.

Before going back to Charlie, I had a couple ideas for a Vaggie redesign I wanted to sketch out. She'll go through a few minor tweaks over time, but overall not bad for a first pass. (There's also a stray Emily)

This is when I started seriously redesigning everyone. I would search up other people's redesigns for inspiration, then move on from there.

More design notes under the cut, and a couple fun Bible facts!

Vaggie: First, I doubled down on the moth theming. I wanted it to be more obvious than it is in canon. It also serves to show that Hell is corrupted, and it makes everyone more inhuman. All the angels will look more human, because "Biblically accurate angels" is not actually all that accurate. After she Falls, she becomes more moth-like, and is not truly an angel anymore.

[I've got this whole idea concerning the blood colors of the various groups. Maybe I should make a dedicated post to explain, but here's the rundown: There are three main groups: Hellborn, Earthborn, and Heavenborn. Hellborn have black blood, and Heavenborn have a glowing white. Earthborn have 3 subgroups: Living, Sinner, and Saint(aka winner). While alive, Earthborn have red. After death, the color depends on if they Fall or Ascend. Fallen Earthborn become Sinners and the blood darkens to purple. Ascended Earthborn become Saints and it lightens into golden yellow. When a Saint Falls, it darkens to purple. When a Heavenborn falls, it darkens to orange. Ascended Sinners will gradually lighten to yellow(albeit it won't ever be quite as bright as the other Saints). Hellborn cannot Ascend.]

All that to say that Vaggie does not have pure angel blood anymore. And I'm trying to decide if the Exorcists are Heavenborn or Earthborn. I'm honestly favoring Earthborn right now, since that's what Adam qualifies as.

Even when she gets her wings back, Vaggie's form is still corrupted and they come back as moth wings, to fit her theming. I wanted to get her long hair out of the way of her wings, and figured that since her hair is sorta moth themed anyway, why not make them the same thing. It works cuz...magic. I also really do not like the floating X over her eye, so I made it a broken eye spot instead.

Charlie: I knew I wanted more goat themes. So the ears were an obvious place to start. I also made her ponytail to look like a goat tail. But I saw a few designs that gave her snake hair and I thought it was great. But I didn't want to draw so many and decided to just give her one. Then named him Hugh. Short for Hubris aka Pride. I designed the Morningstar family around the goat and snake themes, where Charlie gets the goat traits from Lucifer, and the Snake traits from Lilith.

Lucifer: Canon Lucifer has way too many different design motifs. The Biblical Devil is associated with snakes and goats, so I wanted to narrow down on those rather than the forbidden fruit(which is never confirmed to be an actual apple, by the way) or ducks. He can still likes duck, but it doesn't go further than that. Since canon Lucifer is not exactly evil like the Biblical version, I decided it would be thematically appropriate to have his Fall turn him into a scapegoat, of sorts. Which would also mean that Lucifer is not the True Devil. The real Evil is the darkness trapped in the abyss(should I call it Abyss?). Lucifer, as a Fallen Angel, actually created Hell to prevent souls from getting lost in the abyss. So as bad as Hell is, it's actually a relatively good thing. Oh, and he lost his wings during his Fall. (Fun facts: the Devil isn't actually called Lucifer in the Bible, that was a translation quirk basically referring to the fall of the Babylonian king. Similarly, the number 666 probably refers to Roman Emperor Nero)

Lilith: Because I committed to Lucifer as a goat, but still wanted to implement the snake theme, I gave it to Lilith. I wanted to give her snake hair, but also maintain the flow of her long hair. So I decided to give her 7 snakes, each to represent one of the deadly sins. The top one represents pride. They're all named, like Charlie's.

Pride=Vani(Vanity), Greed=Ava(Avarice), Lust=Libby(Libido), Envy=Desi(Desire), Gluttony=Tony(Gluttony), Wrath=Irene(Ire), and Sloth=Sloth(...)

Overall, I haven't fully decided what I want to do with Lilith. It would probably help if we had more canon info on her. Is she secretly an antagonist? Or is there something else going on? Regardless, I enjoyed designing her.

I had this whole tangent about the mythological origins of Lilith, and how she's not actually a biblical character at all. It got too long winded so I cut it. But basically, liliths were a type of demon in Middle East/Mesopotamian cultures. Then a satirical Jewish story written in the medieval era made Lilith Adam's first wife, then she ran off with the Great Demon and started having 100 demon babies a day. She had to promise three angels that she wouldn't hurt any human newborns if they had a special amulet. She was associated with seduction and child-killing. She wasn't a feminist figure until the 1970s. She was just evil before that. Read HERE if you want more info about it.

[cheritya]

[ this post can contain milgram spoilers if you are not caught up with the results of the second trial. ALSO, TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of s*!c!de. ]

GUYS. READ THE "TIMELINES." PLEASE. i posted this on youtube at first, but i decided to post it here, too.

they have been getting translated on fandom wiki ever since 2020. they (timelines) highlight the characters' dynamics with each other, and we get to see them interact over time. i just finished reading all of them. i didn't even know they existed until today - and holy shit, there are some crucial details. here is the link if you want to read them yourself (i highly recommend it):

https://milgram.fandom.com/wiki/Timelines

things are not looking great - the third trial is going to be a big shitshow. here are some developments that i have noticed (feel free to add more if you read the timelines):

1. throughout the second trial, haruka started isolating himself more and more despite being "forgiven" by us. he now spends most of his time in his cell, and muu brings his food to him. some of the prisoners are concerned about this, such as fuuta and shidou, asking muu if haruka is doing okay. shidou is concerned for haruka's mental state, but he implies that he can't do much about it (because he is busy with mahiru's treatment). he apologizes to muu for burdening her with haruka's wellbeing, which muu says that it is okay, because she and haruka are friends. shidou even thanks muu for "being there" for haruka... (oh dear.)

i think haruka starts isolating himself even with his "forgiven" verdict, because now he constantly thinks and worries about what to do if muu gets to be deemed "unforgiven" at the end of the second trial. and well, he has a plan. we all know what his plan is.

and considering the fact that muu has indeed voten "unforgiven", i am pretty scared for haruka. many people in the fandom still think that haruka was bluffing when he told es that he would commit if we don't forgive muu. i think he is dead serious, y'all. we need to take his threat more seriously.

he talked about his s*!c!de plan with kotoko and asked her not to intervene when the time comes. she was PRETTY receptive of it, telling him "if only all sinners were like you." she promised that she will not intervene with haruka's plans, and then added, "even though i'd like to do it myself, i'll leave it to you. what happens after that... depends on es, doesn't it?" so, yes. she knows what haruka might do, and she doesn't seem to care.

on timelines 2023/02/29 and 2023/04/07, haruka frantically begs es (so he is technically begging us) to forgive muu.

2. amane becomes extremely standoffish after we did not forgive her. other prisoners reported how she seems to be in her own world all the time. shidou and mahiru are pretty concerned about her behavior - mahiru even asks once, "are you actually amane-chan?" after amane goes off on one of her religious rants.

we all know that fuuta has been in a pretty vulnerable state after being voted "unforgiven" and getting beaten up by kotoko, right? we see how present his anxiety is throughout the timeline conversations as well.

amane talks to fuuta on his birthday (2023/04/19 timeline). at first, fuuta thinks she is talking nonsense, and asks her how she can be still stand after hearing those awful voices in her head, just like he hears them, since they are both voted unforgiven. we know that some prisoners are hearing voices in their heads regarding to their verdict. fuuta has been hearing pretty awful stuff all the time about his crime.

to answer fuuta's question, this is what amane tells him: "it goes without saying. because we have something more important than the incomprehensible and irrational voices. humans can stand up if they have guidance. kajiyama fuuta, it's a coincidence, but today is your birthday, isn't it? it may be a good day to be reborn. if you can break free from the temptation of corruption around you and change your ways-"

after that conversation, fuuta's behavior seems to have shifted, first reported by muu. since haruka isn't coming out of his cell and muu is the only one actually interacting with him by bringing him food, on timeline 2023/07/05, which is muu's birthday, fuuta approaches muu and asks her if haruka is doing okay. she tells him that she has been bringing him food, which means he should be fine. to that, fuuta says that he understands a bit now, and that it is nice to have someone to rely on and have them accept you. he also says that while they (he and the other prisoners) might not fully understand from their perspective, if muu is the "salvation" for haruka, then he thinks that is something. muu seems taken aback by fuuta's salvation comment, and tells fuuta that he have started saying weird things.

on timeline 2024/01/17, which is mahiru's birthday, fuuta approaches mahiru and asks her if there is any way she can get better. mahiru tells him that shidou has been taking care of her, and that she is sure that if she keeps getting treatment like this, she will get better. to that, fuuta says: "i see. continue the treatment, huh... how can you truly be saved, i wonder?" remember the choice of words he is using. mahiru doesn't think badly about fuuta's comment, and thinks that it is sweet that he seems worried about her. "……that's nice of you, fuuta-kun. just thinking that way... mahiru feels saved already." she says.

on timeline 2024/04/19, which is fuuta's birthday, fuuta approaches haruka this time. i will straight up copy-paste the whole conversation, word by word.

fuuta: "—hey, are you really okay with that? if you come with me, you might also be saved you know……haruka."

haruka: "yeah……since i already made a decision. i, have something that i must do." (he is most likely talking about his plan here.)

fuuta: "ahh, is that so…… hey, haruka, you truly are an idiot. if that’s the case, you won’t be able to be saved."

haruka: "yeah, thank you. fuuta, i’m happy that you called out to me. um, i’m happy that you were so kind to me. i mean it. but, this is the only way i can do this. i’m sorry......" (i am fucking terrified.)

so... yes. interpret it as how you will, but his fixation on "saving" might be the result of amane's influence on him. we voted both of them "forgiven" for the third trial, so i wonder how that will go.

i almost forgot. on her second trial voice drama, amane talks about how she already gave shidou a warning. and yes she did, indeed. shidou wasn't the only person she gave a warning too, though. she also gave a warning to mahiru.

this is from timeline 2023/01/17, mahiru's birthday:

amane: "happy birthday. mahiru-san. how has your condition been lately?"

mahiru: "...ah, amane-chan. thank you. yes, i'm fine. as long as i use a wheelchair, i can still move around properly... it's thanks to shidou-san's treatment..."

amane: "first, i have to give you a warning. you two are treading upon something that's forbidden. if you continue to go against the natural order, you'll just quicken your demise. think about it carefully."

mahiru: "amane-chan... are you actually, amane-chan....?" (this is heartbreaking. timelines that happened during the first trial were mostly lighthearted and happy. the tone changes A LOT with the verdicts. we need to be extremely mindful of our votes.)

i might add more to this later. also, i am sorry for my english, it is my second language.

[joelsgirl]

The Saint, The Sinner & The Devil Pt. 1

Mafia AU x Narcos x TLOU Cross Over Characters: Mafia DBF!Joel Miller, Corrupt Javier Pena + You/Reader Content Warnings: Age Gap, Size Difference, Rough Sex, DBF, Dirty Talk, Daddy might be used in later parts, No Use of Y/N, Threesome, name calling, might be more that I've missed! Disclaimer & Notes: 1.6k Words >> Yes I know they're the same FC but shhh they're different and it works beautifully. This was inspired by a conversation with the beautiful @dreamsofmandalore + Want to see more? I’d love to see some requests, here! Image Credit: x x

Joel swiped the pad of his thumb across his tongue before flicking through a stack of hundreds. Counting out ten Benjamin's, he handed them over to the agent currently leaning against the wall of his office. Javier was as corrupt as they come, his weekly payment something he'd always collected in person. "And the other half?" He asked in a low drawl, nodding to the door behind Joel as he pocketed the cash.

"Your usual is waiting for you." The money was only half of it. For a DEA agent, Javier Pena was one of his easiest bribes. Sometimes he wondered if the cash was just a diversion, an excuse for him to let out the sinner within. It was hardly enough to justify looking the other way on his dealings and yet here they were, doing the same song and dance they always did.

Joel rose to full height, his ageing knees cracking from the shift in position. He pushed the thought aside, ignoring the fact that fifty-seven wasn't the same as thirty. As far as he was concerned, if he could draw a gun, he had plenty of life left in him.

Ring laden fingers closed around the door handle, pulling it open as Pena brushed passed him. "You joining me this time, Miller?"

Scrubbing his face in contemplation, he checked the rolex on his wrist. Pena was the last meeting on his agenda for the evening. He'd planned on taking his girl home with him but his favourite happened to be Pena's, too... "Ah, fuck it," he motioned to the center of the room, closing and locking the door behind them both after stepping in with him.

The room was nondescript, aged wine colored walls, dark wooden floorboards, a large, deep purple velvet covered daybed in the corner; and you in the middle. Your hands are bound behind your back, the soft leather cuffs tight but not uncomfortable. It's the only thing you're wearing, knowing exactly how Javi likes you. Unencumbered. Your gaze averted, studiously watching the floor despite every fiber of your being screaming at you to look up, to take in the sight of him.

He was so handsome, so was the boss. The pair so similar they could be brothers. They were two sides of the same coin, the dark and supposed light of an unrelenting war - but in this room, they were predators and you, their prey. You shouldn't enjoy his sessions as much as you do but the truth was, you looked forward to them. This had become your favorite part of the week. When you weren't with Joel, that was.

The boys circle you, moving in opposite direction, in perfect synchronicity as they both eye you hungrily. "I never tire of this one, you know?" Pena's accent was always thicker whenever he was in a room with you. So turned on it was like he fell deeper into those base instincts, his field of vision limited to you, and exactly what he'd planned on doing to that perfect little body of yours. You bite your lower lip, your chest rising and falling as you wait with bated breath for one of them to make their move. Joel hung back, letting the agent take the first step. He always did. You knew why they were there, understood the importance of making Agent Pena happy.

He moved behind you, your back pressed against the broad expanse of his chest, both men towering over you even with Joel standing a few steps away. Javier's hand reached around you tenderly, sliding up your thigh, over your stomach towards your breasts. He cupped one, kneading it between his fingers. Your eyes flick towards Joel's, an unspoken question phrased in the way you look at him. “Yes, little one. You'll get to service us both tonight.”

It was the only explanation you were going to get; the only one you needed. Your back arched for the agent, pressing yourself against his palm as his fingers found your nipple, rolling it between them. It wasn't long before Joel closed the distance between you, joining the other man. A large hand slipping down between your legs, three fingers forced into your cunt without hesitation, stretching you wide. Dipping his head, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low murmur. “Mmm, always so tight for me, aren't you, baby?”

His forearm started to move, back and forth, fucking you with a skilled hand, your moans filling the small room. Javier's fist locked in your soft hair, holding you still even though you weren't going anywhere. His hips shift forward, grinding his hard cock against your ass through the form fitting denim he was wearing. Joel's head bent forward, taking the nipple Javi had been working earlier between his lips. 

You moan at the attention, lapping it up, loving being sandwiched between the two violent men. You knew the drill, behave and you shall be rewarded… and so far? You were doing splendidly. Javi's free hand found your tight little ass, massaging it roughly. A low groan fell from his lips, blending with the hard slap that echoed off the walls as you squeal for him. "What do you say, whore?" Joel's voice, commanding in your ear. "Thank you, sir." There was no hesitation in your breathy response.

He could see Javi over your shoulder, his eyes locked onto Joels. There was a glint of approval in them that made the older male proud. His hand came down again, another hard slap in exactly the same spot. Over and over again. Each time, you oblige him with a thank you, Sir and all the while, Joel continued his three finger assault.

Pausing only to give his own hand a break, he palmed at the heat of your flesh, massaging the brilliant mark he’d left behind. His cock was painfully hard, the sight of you writhing between them driving him wild. Tightening his hold on your hair, a harsh jerk forcing your slender back to arch. Your clit grinding against Joel's palm as Javi worked the zipper on his jeans. There would be no foreplay from him, no warning you up or allowing his favorite little toy a chance to get used to the idea of what he was about to do… He lined the swollen head up with your tightest hole and slammed balls deep into your ass. 

You scream at the invasion, your walls massaging him as he pulls back, reaching the very tip and slamming home again. His thrusts brutal as he drills into you. From this angle, he could feel Joels fingers against his length. If only it was his cock, instead...

 Clearly, Joel was of the same mind as he’d raised his head, the hand not buried in your cunt sliding the zipper of his pants down. His hard cock sprung free of its binds, and he swapped the fingers with his length in a matter of seconds. 

The males groaned on impact, their rhythm perfectly in sync. As one moved out, the other moved in. They had done this dance before, were well versed in what they liked…their eyes locked over your head as the pace intensified. 

Joel raised his fingers, still slick with their juices, forcing them between your lips. The soft glow of the overhead light reflecting on the gold rings he wore. Your expert tongue cleaning yourself from Joel's fingers as he pushes them deeper. Javi used the fist in your hair to force your head forward, moving it back and forth. “Take it, slut.” The growl came from Javi and Joel groaned again…

Joel's other hand came down on your tits, catching the nipple hard. Your cry muffled, as was the thanks you offered to him. Pride filled his chest as you continued to behave. Such a good girl for him. Joel repeated his action, slapping you so hard the flesh bounced in retaliation. 

Javi reached around to slap the other one at the same time, ensuring both were attended to while their cocks pistoned in and out of your tight little holes. Their bodies collided with such force, the slaps were as loud as those created by their hands. 

Joel slid out from your slick heat, throwing a knowing glance Javi's way. On a groan, the hand in your hair forced your upper body forward, your legs kicked apart as your body was bent into a right angle. In a quick movement, Javi pulled out of your ass and slammed into your soaking cunt, filling the space Joel previously had.

The devilish grin on Joel's face widened as his hand now took over the hold on your hair, slapping the tip of his heavy length against your lips. “Open for me, whore.” You oblige immediately, your lips sucking that length in between them. He groaned as he let you take control, for a short while, anyway. That expert mouth working Joel like you did this for a damn living.

He could see the muscles on his abdomen ripple and constrict as his breath tightened. Javi continued with his brutal pace, fucking you mercilessly. “Mmmm, such a good little fucktoy. Take it, that's a good girl.” He groaned, slapping your bright red cheeks. His hands dug into the small of your hips, leveraging himself against you to fuck you harder. 

For Javi, it wasn't about the money, or the whores. He could get them anywhere. The cash was cream on the top; the real bribe was you.

The kingpins daughter wasn't anything he could buy, you were something of a prize. The day he'd discovered your affair with your father's best friend, his right hand man, the Cartel's enforcer, turned out to be the best day of his goddamned life.

He'd had all the leverage he needed to take down an empire, the only problem was... he wanted you more.

TAG LIST: @dreamsofmandalore @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @spookyprofessorknightflap >>> If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any other fics, please let me know!

[sydneysholylight]

— a ѕιnnerѕ ιndυlgence [ SERIES ]

╰⪼ heed the warnings: MALE PC/LI, Religious themed, coercion, implied switch!Sydney , nsfw, unfortunate grinding, implied harassment, implied corruption kink, implied stalking, groping, public sex (?), slightly proof-read, 2k words.

╰⪼ heed the note: this will be based on my au of my PC but with major changes, headcannons may appear however but I'll keep things that is canon for this one. I can make a female version of this if you kindly ask, let me know if I missed anything.

╰⪼ You were a new student attending a local school in a town with an odd feel in the air, something sinister mixed with a tinge of scarce purity. You couldn't remember anything when you woke up in the hospital, you woke up frantic and ran away. your memories remained a blur and the temple nearby took you in as one of their own, much to their delight as those prying eyes hovered to the halo glowing above your head and their hands brushing against the feathers of your wings, you were what they called and honored, an angel, a holy being, a divine messenger of god and a protector of humankind.

However, you felt far from an angel and how they portrayed an angel should be, strong willed, protective, god-fearing and so on and so on — on another note, you ponder, who exactly is god? What does a god exactly do? And why have they not contacted you since you've woken up? You brought this concern to your peers, Jordan to be specific, he told you in a soft voice “Patience is virtue, holy one,” he took a bow down “They will seek time with you.” He finished his message before apologizing he had to go attend his duties. Your mind was filled with questions that were yet to unfold, you felt lost and started questioning your purpose.

Over the past few days since you've started residing in the temple, Jordan noticed you were having trouble socializing with the initiates, unable to follow up with their social cues and norms, Jordan ought to himself he would help you fit in once more, thus reached out to Sydney to help you — whose reputation precedes himself to be an “innocent” boy, he was the librarians assistant, he was eager to help you out, the thought of helping out someone, especially an angel, he couldn't help but feel honored and nervous to be near such holy presence however he felt tempted to prey around you and capture you, as to lure you in the dark and the joy of living as a sinner. The ecstasy it gives, the pleasure it comes with. Perhaps if he gave you his world, then will the temple realize, the fun temptation and lust have is worth it, you just have to pray and pray, pray and pray, pray and pray — pray.

You sighed, perhaps it's best for time to pass through and enjoy your life as it is in the moment, patience is truly a virtue after all, you have enough time to figure out the rest later on, walking over to your bed, picking up your bad on the soft mattress, you looked up to the right and at the clock ‘ 6:23 pm ‘ you have enough time to walk to the temple, pray for awhile and walk to school with Sydney. You went downstairs, relishing in your surroundings, it made you feel alive. The older orphans were discussing with each other what to do after school as the younger ones played around with one another, the sight of life in such joyous motion was a sight to behold..

Putting the thought aside, you made your way to the temple but without peace, you've always felt a pair of eyes watching every step you take, it was suffocating. It started after saving a poor boy that was being harassed by the other students, of course you don't believe it was him who was watching you, you don't even have proof and it goes against your morality — and your beliefs, perhaps it's the gang of students who were harassing him? You shudder at the thought, as much you'd like to deny it, the possibility is high. Perhaps it's the best time now to make friends and work on your reputation, as you think of who to befriend, you were in front of the temple. You walked inside, bowing and greeting the older and high ranking members of the temple, giving humble blessings before going to the pew of the far left side. You smiled and greeted Sydney “Good morning.” You whispered, he moved to give you space to join him.

You noticed his hair was down as you laid your bag aside and kneeled down on the cushion, you closed your eyes and clasped your hands together, praying for the remaining time.

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you slightly as you looked up to Sydney, who was smiling at you “It's time to go, wanna walk together?” He asked before hesitantly holding his hand to you, you nodded and took his hand, as he helped you get up, he blushed, looking at his hand you held for a brief moment, before you could notice, he turned his back away “Thank you Sydney and yes, of course. You make a great companion.” You smiled as the two of you walked to school together, you appreciated how he was a sweet boy who was willing to help you, defending you from the students probing and harassment in the library and kept you company while Robin was gone for a week.

You looked up to his hair “May I ask why you changed your usual look? Not like it looks bad, it looks good just like you with a ponytail.” You said, your hand aching to touch his hair, painted with color that fit him well, you were surprised to learn it was his natural color. Sydney noticed that you wanted to touch his hair, grabbing it with surprising strength, making you gasp in shock “Sydney?” he widened his eyes “Sorry! Sorry! I was startled.” He mumbled and grabbed your hand softly this time, brushing it against his hair “you're one of the few I'd let touch my hair..” he murmured “Do you like my hair down? You mentioned you were curious after I caught you drawing me with my hair down, I think you drew it accurately.” He smiled, a tinge of red on his cheeks, you looked away, embarrassed at the mention of that incident “I.. thank you.” You mumbled “We should hurry up, I need to study and you need to work.” You said as the two of you head to the entrance.

The both of you departed, you head to an exclusive table of the library, far from the entrance as you noticed it's more silent compared to the tables near the entrance, as you sat down, you grabbed your science textbook you rented and dived into the lesson Sirris mentioned yesterday, unaware of a familiar boy with strawberry blonde hair watching you from the very corner of his eyes, hovering over your figure.

After school finished, you decided to stay with Sydney for the remaining time in school, you had an appointment with Harper today, the temple advised you to meet him every appointment to ensure your health is in good condition, they mentioned your body works differently from a human, hence why they insist you go to the hospital however, something about him felt off, you don't know why but the way he looks and talks to you, it feels like he's hiding something. Perhaps you haven't completely adjusted to human society, perhaps it's normal after all, humans are different from one another.

“Hello Sydney, where were you during lunch?” You asked, you were hoping to have lunch together with him as you noticed Robin wasn't here today and you didn't see him in the library either, Sydney looked at you, something in his gaze felt unusual “I decided to have lunch in the library.” A lie, you knew and it is also a sin, you frowned, he was strong in his faith and joined the temple at an early age, did something happen for him to sin like this? You walk towards the counter “Really? Why?” You stared at him, who stared back “Can I ask you a question?” He suddenly asked, you nodded in response “Have you wondered to yourself what it feels to be a sinner?”....... what?

He looked around, seemingly nervous before walking closer “have you?” He whispered, the distance between you and him and the question made you increasingly nervous “Sydney, the temple advises all of us not to think and delve into such iniquitous thoughts!” You said, biting your lip as Sydney stares down “But that's what the temple thinks, how about you? What do you personally think being a sinner feels like?” He said, his response getting you off guard, he held your hand in a gentle manner, seemingly persuasive in getting your answer.

“I.. I.. I don't know Sydney.” You responded, you averted your gaze away from him, your breath hitched as you could feel his breath on your neck, whispering to your ear “It's fun, really.” He whispered, you widen your eyes please don't tell me— “what do you mean..?” You asked in a hushed voice, refusing to meet his gaze “..To tell you the truth, before your arrival, I indulged myself into…things the students talk about,” he said, taking a slight step back before continuing “It felt freeing.” He finished, cupping your face softly “Would it not hurt to try?” He whispered “See things in my perspective?”

“I.. The temple—” “The temple hides nothing but what we can do.” He cut you off “And we will be careful, you just have to trust me, okay?” he said, you nodded nervously as you let Sydney take the lead, taking you and him to the school's changing room, he pushed you gently to the dressing room “Let's hope nobody finds us.” He chuckled before taking your hand together with his, kissing it “Feeling comfortable?” He asked, checking for your consent, you nodded “I..I feel rather nervous, actually, I feel very nervous.” You mumbled. He chuckled in response.

“It's okay, it'll be fine. I was too.” He whispered before kissing you, taking advantage of your surprise as he inserted his tongue inside your mouth, reveling the sight of your reaction before taking a step back, he let go of your hand as he focused on unbuttoning your shirt, he took a good look of your chest, you resisted the urge to cover up as you look at him “Cute.” He smirked, caressing your cheeks “I..” “Don't be ashamed of your body, you're a beauty.” He whispered, earning a chuckle from you “than- ugh-” your breath hitched as he circles his thumbs around your nipples, he pushed you against a wall “Sensitive?” He teased, kissing you on the forehead “how does it feel?”

“It… It feels good.” You responded hesitantly, muffling a moan as he puts his knee against your groan “Sydney…” you panted, he moved on to removing your pants, placing his leg away, you tried not to make it obvious you wanted him to keep going “I forgot I still have my chastity cage on.” He groaned before kneeling down and removing your underwear and sighed at the sight of the familiar device “It's okay, there are other ways to make people orgasm.” He whispered before making you lay on your back, he unzipped his pants, you noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear “Isn't that against the school rules..?” You asked, biting your lip “Who cares if they don't know?” He responded.

He leaned in, kissing you on the neck as he shifted his hips upwards, making sure his chastity cage was above yours — fondling with your balls with his right hand as the other went on circling your nipples “So gorgeous..” he panted, sucking in your neck as he continues grinding against you, making sure to press against you hard as he could, the metal head of the cage could be felt on the visible parts of your penis, sending sparks up your spine due to how cold it felt, Sydney groaned, clearly frustrated “I wanna be inside you so bad..” he whined, pressing you against him harder, putting your legs on his shoulder, aligning his penis against your hole, trying to insert himself in “I swear I'll get the keys for these stupid things..” he mumbled, fastening his pace, you moaned slightly as he build up friction “Have I ever told you I've always admired you?” He panted, resting his head on your shoulder, relishing the warmth of your naked body.

“I'm close..” he panted, kissing your neck as you gripped on his shoulder, his lips felt warm against your skin, you muffled a moan as you felt his hands intruding their way to your balls once more, squeezing and rubbing it — the sensation was unfamiliar, strange but welcome, an unfamiliar wave of pleasure went through your body, your cock spurting out cum as you moaned against his neck, you could feel cum dripping down where your chastity cage was “You already came- oh-” he gasped as you kissed his neck, making him come immediately after “I..” he blushed, you stared at him with reddened cheek “Did I do good..?” You asked meekly, bitting the inside of your mouth as he nodded “Of course! That.. that felt amazing… it's quite the bummer though I wasn't able to be inside of you..and you inside of me.” He blushed, laying his head on your chest “how'd it feel?” He asked, smiling at you “It felt unfamiliar… but at the same time good.” He grinned “I knew you'd like it.” He said before helping you stand up, he insisted on helping you dress up, taking advantage of the opportunity to occasionally grope you. He cupped your cheeks “We should do this more, it's fun right? To see the perspective of a sinner?” He leaned in, and you looked away “The temple..” you said quietly, he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours “They won't find out, we'll try to keep it as a secret. They don't have to find out, we can still continue as we are as normal publicly.” He said “and you mentioned you can't remember anything in the past, right? Perhaps in a way, this might help you.” You couldn't help but feel tempted at the thought, you were getting tired of the same answers from the temple anyways. “Fine… just… be careful, I don't wanna get you hurt.” You said, he chuckled “Of course, of course, welcome to my world.”

[unicornsaures]

Divinity lams AU?

Alex is some divine, etheral being and John is just a pathetic and lost fallen angel who swears his devotion to this 'otherworldly being' for the privilege of following him around and being with him for eternity because it gives him a purpose. And at first, Alex just sees him as this sad soul whos's lost and doesnt know what to do and genuinely takes pity on him; but eventually it goes from a 'worshiped and worshiper' relationship to a relationship in which Alex see's him as an equal despite being nothing but.

And even before this, John had been searching for guidance through other people because he never fully trusted his instincts and yet this had only led him to be distrusting because the very reason he had 'fallen' was because he had followed anothers lead. In turn, he turned to etheral 'gods' who he knows cant do him wrong because they'll always view themselves as above him, and with pledging his devotion, they cant turn on him because he will forever be their faithful subject.

Unfortunately for John his devotion borders more on obsession. He loves looking up to see someone so majestic staring back down at him with such a soft smile in contrast to piercing eyes and to know Alex would be looking at him makes his heart flutter and insides melt and skin on In fire(figuratively..) and makes him just want to cut off his wings and give them to Alex as a sign of his true adoration he holds for him. And obviously this concerns Alex. I mean, his poor devotee is willing to do anything for him but theres a line, right? Alex still cares for him of course, what kind of being would he be if he allowed someone to sacrifice their own peace for him?

Cue emotional outburst number one! John would be rambling softly about how if he had the strength he would just rip out his wings and alex has to lean down and gently rest his palm on John's cheek to tell him not to ruin his beautiful wings and that being with him is devotion enough for him and that physical pain in his name would only cause harm. And then tears, of course, in natural angst fashion.

Oh, and John has an immense fear of corrupting Alex the entire time due to the fact hes a 'sinner' (by his own standards) and being in the presence of such divinity as a 'corrupted being' puts Alex at risk to fall from his stance of power. But even despite his fear he can't leave not only due to this eternal soul-binding agreement, but because being in his presence makes him feel alive and as though he can feel love again even after he had failed in doing so for so many years. But in the end Alex doesnt see himself as higher or with more power but as an equal.

John would have 'given up' his ability to feel love for another in order to be fully devoted to Alex, and yet he was convinced he didnt have it in the first place so he decided he wouldnt be giving it up if he never had it. But in turn he discovered that he did have the ability to love, but it had to be discovered through giving up the ability to love anyone other than Alex, and in a way hes happier with that.

But even so, John doesnt think hes worthy enough to be so close to someone so much better than he is, and he does view it as a privilege to be there until Alex tells him to stand up in which he physically has to look down at alex(he would stand at other points, of course, but he would never physically look down. If alex would speak to him he would physically attempt to lower his height to keep Alex above him by his own personal will.) But that is the point where he would cup johns face and then tell him that he's wonderful and the most faithful devotee hes had the 'honor' of being with and then tears. so many tears. so many pent up tears form years john has been telling himself that he cant feel love and to even be in the vicinity of Alex is a privilege that he doesnt deserve just to be told to his face that this divine being loves him and appreciates everything hes done and he doesnt want John to be hurt for him.

[voxaholic]

More Details About Heaven

Decide to compile a bit of misc worldbuilding info and relevant character information for The Heaven Ending of @randomly--accessed--memories

Heaven as Vox Enters It:

Over the century Vox spent with Velvette, Heaven has undergone a lot of changes and is now a much more authentic and less corrupt place. It’s as perfect as a place can get while still allowing both winners and heaven-born to have free will.

Ex-sinners are more or less fully integrated into Heaven society. There are still people that aren’t exactly comfortable with the fact that ex-sinners are here but they’re in the minority and most of them have semi-reasonable concerns.

There have been efforts to address the genuine safety concerns people may have about letting sinners into Heaven. Family of ex-sinners are immediately notified upon their relative’s ascension, so they can either meet up at the intake center or make arrangements to ensure that they never run into said relative. 

If the sinner one wants to avoid isn’t a relative, the winner can send in a request that said sinner be kept away from them in the event they do ascend.

Alcohol and certain other recreational substances still exist in Heaven but they are free of the risks/negative physiological impact that are associated with such substances on Earth and Hell. There’s a bit of a stigma around indulging in such among heaven-born specifically because bringing such substances to Heaven was a controversial decision born of winner’s desire that the seraphim reluctantly gave into.

A slim majority of ex-sinners manage to fully integrate into Heaven’s society, but there are a not insignificant amount who have more trouble.

As a result, pocket communities of ex-sinners who feel more comfortable interacting with other ex-sinners have popped up all over Heaven. In these communities going by your sinner name is almost expected as in much of Heaven an ex-sinner is expected to start going by their “real” name again, which can be hard for some to adjust to.

The small bar Vox frequents is one of those communities. Vox gets a lot of weird looks at first by choosing to go by “Vaughn” which is obviously his real name, but people quickly get used to it.

He frequents the bar for like a few years before he actually manages to become fully integrated into the small friend group his failed hookup adopted him into.

Three ex-sinners make up that group.

Sinner Name: Pyrite 

Real Name: August Murphy

Gender: Male

Age of Death: 23

How’d They Die: Murder

Why Was He In Hell?: He grew up wealthy and generally threw his money around and paid his way out of many sticky situations. He was more passively awful than anything, just someone who coasted through life taking advantage of the privilege he’d been born into.

A vaguely reptilian, dragon-like winner with golden scales and bright green eyes. Pyrite’s a one-night-stand turned casual drinking buddy. He’s charming, extroverted, and prone to oversharing. He’s just pushy enough to get past Vox’s initial refusal to ever acknowledge any of his one-night-stands outside of their one night together and reaches the status of casual acquaintance probably as fast as it’s possible to with Vox.

Comes off as kind of ditzy but is a lot smarter than he lets on. He was in college for pre-law when he died and was doing unfairly well for someone who spent most of his freetime partying and sleeping around. Ascended pretty soon after Valentino’s death, so he’s been in Heaven awhile. He’s one of the first to suspect Vox’s true identity but doesn’t really care aside from being curious about how exactly he ended up in Heaven. 

He’s the main driver of Vox’s integration into the friend group. They have a decent amount in common and Pyrite’s good at reading people and to him— Vox seemed lost and lonely. He also felt bad about accidentally triggering him during their ill-fated attempted hookup.

Sinner Name: Birdie 

Real Name: Robin Carmichael 

Gender: Male

Age of Death: 35

How’d They Die: Suicide by hanging

Why Was He In Hell?: His estranged abusive father showed up at his door one day begging for forgiveness and he beat him to death with his bare hands.

A mild-mannered and self-efacing bluebird winner. Birdie also started as a one-night-stand. He ended up staying in Vox’s orbit because he was friends with Pyrite, so when Pyrite started trying to befriend Vox, Birdie was sort of along for the ride.

He had an extremely troubled childhood and young adulthood (which he’s pretty tight lipped about) but with the help of a man who would become a father figure to him was able to turn his life around and was on track to probably getting into Heaven until the day his father showed up on his doorstep.

He was a third grade teacher while alive and has kept a lot of the mannerisms that come with that. He’s the type of selfless that’s born from severely low self-esteem and generally allows himself to be walked all over. He’s got a surprisingly wry and pretty dark sense of humor that he occasionally lets slip when people least expect it. 

He’s the one who starts organizing get-togethers outside of the bar. It’s very “elementary school field trip energy” but it’s good for everyone to hang out in places that aren’t bars.

Sinner Name: Stratus

Real Name: Lacey Anne Mullen

Gender: Female

Age of Death: 41

How’d They Die?: Skydiving accident

Why Was She In Hell?: Child abandonment, infidelity, being a pathological kkm liar, and a consistent pattern of running away from any and all responsibility

A human-like winner with hair like clouds. They change shape and color according to her mood. She’s a tall and curvy woman with medium toned skin and a penchant for bright colors and eccentric outfits.

She’s the one Vox takes the longest to warm up to because for the longest time, he’s convinced she’s fucking with him. She still lies, a lot, but mostly about harmless things that don’t negatively impact anyone but to Vox it felt too similar to how Alastor would sometimes purposefully feed him false information just to mess with him. Eventually he realizes that it’s not something she’s doing out of malice.

Eventually they’re able to bond over the extremely awkward process of reconnecting with your adult children in Heaven when you were a shitty parent (or not there at all in her case.)

She also feels like she hasn’t changed enough to really deserve Heaven. She went through all the motions but it never really felt like she became any better internally.

[fanby-fckry]

It’s not Wednesday, but UH3 brainrot has once again consumed me.

I’m supposed to be catching up on Ace Alastor Week, and instead I’m writing ahead in the Season 1 fic.

Sneak peek below, heed the tags.

Content Warning: self harm*, blood, references to canon-typical violence, implied/referenced child abuse, inconsistent terminology regarding sex and gender**

*Whether or not this is self harm could probably be up for debate, but I, personally, consider it to be a form of self harm. Please put your own health and safety first; read with caution of feel free to keep scrolling. Stay safe, readers.

**Alastor sometimes conflates sex and gender because he just doesn’t think about or care what people have in their pants. He grew up in a time where the two were considered interchangeable; while he knows neither sex nor gender are static/that not everyone matches up with the gender they were assigned and will call a trans person by their chosen name/pronouns, gender them correctly, and treat them exactly like he’d treat anyone else, he still gets the terms a little mixed up from time to time. He wouldn’t gatekeep someone based on their transition status, because the physical state of someone else’s body isn’t his concern unless he’s actively in the process of killing them. And even then, he’s not focused on sex characteristics of any kind.

…

…

…

“And all this time, I thought it was mere population control!” Alastor ranted ino the private connection. He was pacing across his meticulously sound-proofed hotel room while his shadow flew from wall to wall.

“Well,” Lucifer began, but Alastor wasn’t done speaking and didn’t care for being interrupted.

“Ha!” Alastor laughed, threading a hand through his own hair. “Can you blame me?” he asked.

A rhetorical question, but Lucifer gave his best attempt at answering. “It is p-”

“They’ve got no style, no finesse! And barely any skill!” Alastor’s shadow curled its claws into fists, and Alastor removed his hand from his hair to keep himself from pulling it or digging his claws into his scalp as he felt the urge to do the same.

“Year after year, decade after decade, it’s nothing but artless, soulless slaughter!” Alastor laughed again, manic, hysterical, and lacking any and all joy. “Is it any wonder I assumed it was simply a mindless masacre?”

“Alastor-”

“Entertainment…” Alastor dug his claws into the inside of his palm, attempting to ground himself with the pain.

“If killing Sinners for one’s own entertainment is so damned Holy, then why is he in Heaven while I’m down here?” Alastor demanded, static rising in his voice. “Why, one could argue that he’s worse than I am!”

“He’s certainly killed more Sinners than I have by now, considering how long the Exterminations have been in effect.” Hell’s history books were patchy at best, and Lucifer only talked about his – and by extension, Hell’s – past in vague, non-specific terms, often while drunk or sentimental. Or both.

Alastor’s claws began to draw blood. “And from the combination of what Charlie and Lilith and you have all told me, he’s a vulgar, disrespectful chauvinist!”

The pain no longer felt like an anchor. It was fuel on the fire that was the rage burning within him, the wrath he felt at the injustice of it all.

“My mother raised me to be a gentleman,” Alastor said. “Any disrespect I show is based on a woman's actions, not her sex. But Adam expected Lilith to bend to his whims simply on the basis of her gender! He talked down to Charlie, likely on the same logic!”

“And yes, I kill because I enjoy it, but I’m selective with my victims! I enact vengeance on behalf of the weak and vulnerable! In life, I corrected the injustices of a corrupt system, and in death I punish those already Damned by their sins!”

Blood was seeping through Alastor’s knuckles. He pushed his claws deeper, sinking them into the meat of his palms.

“So why…?” There were bloodstains on the carpet. Niffty would be quite upset if she learned that the blood was Alastor’s rather than one of his meals’.

“Why?” Alastor repeated, barely audible above his own feedback. His cheeks were wet. He must have gotten blood on them at some point.

Everything was silent for a moment, save for the static Alastor couldn’t reign in.

Then, Lucifer spoke. “It’s complicated,” he said, quietly.

Alastor made an animalistic sound deep in the back of his throat, something between a growl and a whimper. But he let the Devil speak.

“I don’t know the particulars, but murder and vengeance are both Damnable sins.”

“Then why isn’t he Damned,” Alastor said through gritted teeth. “Why hasn’t Adam Fallen?”

Lucifer sighed. “Nepotism?”

Alastor laughed. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you!”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Lucifer asked, his volume increasing. “My Father kicked me out of Heaven for falling in love with Lilith and for daring to dream of a world where humanity wasn’t bound by eternal ignorance.”

“And he gave you a kingdom!” Alastor swung his arms, flinging blood across the room with the sheer force of the movement. “He let you and Lilith elope when he could’ve smited you both! Do you think he’d give the same courtesy to his other angelic children, or do the rumors of you being his favorite son hold true, hm, Lightbringer?”

The radio began to smoke and glow with a faint golden light.

“Get that name out of your fucking mouth, Alastor.”

Alastor ignored him, ignored the projections of his power.

“My father never would’ve shown me such benevolence if I’d disobeyed him the way you did yours.” Alastor moved to inspect the bloodstains on the walls. “And the best thing he ever gave me was a lesson in the inherent cruelty of man.”

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hi again! It's the anon that made the succubus au! I've come to bother you again with another idea! I hope you like this one, I plan on it being a tad darker with some BAMF Adam.

I went to see Longlegs a few weeks ago (dint worry, this isn't a Longlegs au (even tho now that o think about it, I would love to see that, but that'll be another day-)), and I love the design of the Devil. The stereotypical horns and goat silhouette that you can just make out- *chefs kiss*

So, I'll skip to my point. Adam dies during the extermination, comes back a sinner- in a way. He's basically become totally corrupt by Hell itself. I like to think that he's indulged in EVERY sin for around 10,000 years.

I like to think that Lucifer gets his power from hell, and now, so does Adam, he's on par in power with Luci in this.

Adam doesn't come back as a usual sinner, seeking redemption at the hotel, but instead, he can materialize out of no where, dissappear at will and if he wants, he can make himself untouchable. Completely. Not even Alastor or Lucifer could harm him. And his form? He looks like how we depict Satan, tall, half goat half man, multiple seats of horns, which a goats face.

But I love Adams face, he's a gorgeous man, so obviously he can switch between. He can make himself appear more monstrous (like real world Satan) or more human (with hooves and one set of horns).

He's bent on revenge. He terrorizes Lucifer, makes him see Adam some days, or some tall, horned monster standing on the corner (sometimes he goes completely unnoticed, other times he's everywhere).

Lucifer knows it's Adam, but he's dead? He thinks it's his guilt ridden mind playing tricks on him, till he wakes up and sees Adam standing over him, digging his hand into his side. Lucifer finds that he can't scream, move, or use his powers. He just stares at Adam, as he feels his rib be pulled out.

To add more injury, Adam just crushes his rib while laughing, then disappears. Lucifer heals of course but he notices that he now has a scar, the same shape as Adam's.

Lucifer isn't the only person he goes after, he also goes after Alastor. Mainly reopening his wound as soon as it shows any sign of healing. Alastor is fully aware it's Adam, he's terrified that the only person that was able to injure him is not only alive but even more power than he was as an angel (he wouldn't admit that he's scared, nor would he tell Charlie about Adam, he sees Luci acting off, as much as he likes seeing him out of sorts he doesn't engage (Adam doesnt interact with Alastor as mich as he does Luci- yet. He settles for humiliating Alastor (i remember you (I hope this is you lol) saying that you like one sided angelicradio, i think that would have such a good place in this au, Alastor cant help but find himslef even more interested in Adam, especially since he's alive and seemingly even more powerful)).

I like to think Adam would go After Nifty to, but I don't think he'd kill her. He'd want her to suffer but he doesn't know much about her so he can't start his revenge just yet. Plus he's having too much fun with Lucifer and Alastor.

Him and Lucifer talk. Adam usually only speaks when Luci is having sleep paralysis. He doesn't want to have a conversation. He wants Lucifer to hear what he has to say. No interpretations. Lucifer of course yells and says horrible shit whenever he sees Adam, it frustrates him that Adam doesn't engage at all, just stares. Which unsettled Lucifer.

If you've seen Longlegs, he acts a lot like Satan, standing in the background, making himself known on his terms.

He mainly shows himself to Lucifer, and of course, he does this while Lucifer is doing business around the hotel. He mainly uses his more beast-like form while doing this. Lucifer eventually confides in Charlie, who's concerned about her dad, she thinks it's some form of hidden grief that's making him see Adam. Vaggie is a little indifferent. She can tell something is bothering Lucifer (and that Alastor is acting off but she doesn't really care about that). But the Adam Lucifer is describing sounds nothing like the Adam she knew before and after her fall, sure he was a monster, a devil even but he didn't LOOK like one.

I've been commenting on some of your posts (shhhh) and if there's one thing I make very obvious is that in any form, I love a gorgeous Adam, chub or no chub, man's hot, pretty, definitely sexy. And that comes through both forms. His eyes are still gold, and shine when the sun (or whatever Hell has) hits them, they basically glow at night, which adds a new hostility to them.

Man was a giant when he was alive, he's a giant when he's a "sinner". His normal form wouldn't have changed heights too much but his more beast-like form DEFINITELY has (I know in the show he's like 10" but I think that's a bit much, I like to this he's 6"-7"), his beast form would be more on parr with his canon height.

So basically this au is Adam being possibly even stronger than Lucifer (ww don't know how much stronger because he's new to hell), he wants to cause the man as much pain as he's caused him, and make him feel like he's nothing. Exactly the way Adam felt when he got abandoned in Eden.

I hope this is somewhat interesting to you, and I got through my idea semi well. I wish I could add pictures to asks so I could actually make sense, lol

Anyway, I'll leave that here.

Again, I love your work! I have to say that eveytime, I want to drive it home lol

Okay-bye!

(I'm sorry I'm referencing Longlegs a lot. I swear this isn't an au based off that movie, it's just the best Satan I've seen lol)

I haven't seen or even heard of this movie but it Sounds interesting!!

Adam deserves a little revenge let's be real. My boy has been through Hell before he even got there.

The angst potential is so *chefs kiss*

Thank you!! You are so sweet! Here have a cupcake 🧁