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heliosunny · 5 months ago

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Hi, I enjoy reading your stories! For the request, can I please have yandere Robin x reader?

MYSTERY PLANT

Yandere!Robin x Reader

You never expected much from a simple sapling. The tiny Robin Pear tree had been left abandoned near a market stall, its leaves trembling in the wind as if pleading for someone to take it home. You had always been good at nurturing fragile things, so taking it in felt natural.

Days passed, then weeks. The tree flourished under your care, its thin branches stretching toward the sun, leaves unfurling in vibrant green. Then, one evening, beneath a moonlit sky, something impossible happened.

A petal drifted down from the tree's blossoms, shimmering as it landed in your palm. A sweet voice whispered through the room.

"You’ve taken such good care of me… Now, let me return the favor."

The branches trembled, then split apart with a shudder. A gust of wind filled the room, carrying a floral scent that made your head spin. And then, from the heart of the tree, she emerged.

She was breathtaking. Ethereal liliac-silver hair cascaded down her waist, curling slightly at the ends, a halo-like ornament resting atop her head. Pale wings, resembling those of a celestial songbird. Her teal eyes, brimming with warmth, met yours, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

"Robin." The name left your lips instinctively, as if you'd always known her.

Her smile widened. "Yes, and you, Y/n… you are mine."

From the moment she arrived, Robin has been following you around. She hummed melodies as she watched you sleep, brushed her fingers through your hair when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

"I bloomed for you" she whispered one evening, her arms wrapping around you in an embrace "You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?"

At first, you weren’t sure how to adjust. But she made it easy. Despite her otherworldly presence, she was warm, affectionate, and endlessly kind—to everyone.

In the marketplace, she became a sensation overnight. With a gentle smile and a soothing presence, she helped merchants arrange their goods, guided lost children back to their parents, and sang in the town square, her voice drawing in crowds like a spell.

"Miss Robin, your voice is truly a gift!" one elderly woman praised.

"A gift meant to be shared" Robin replied, bowing gracefully.

And share she did. Her singing eased tensions, made quarrels dissolve into laughter, and even though she didn’t say it outright—influenced dreams. She once mentioned it casually, over breakfast, as if it wasn’t an insanely terrifying ability.

"I see glimpses of their dreams sometimes" she admitted, twirling a spoon in her tea. "A little adjustment here, a comforting presence there… it helps people wake up happier."

You nearly choked. "Wait—you’re controlling dreams?!"

Robin giggled, tilting her head. "Control? No, no, of course not. That sounds so… forceful. I simply guide."

"You have nightmares sometimes, don’t you?" she asked, voice softer. "I could make them go away."

You hesitated. The idea of her wandering into your mind while you slept should have been unsettling. But… when she smiled at you like that, when her voice curled around your ears like a lullaby, it became harder and harder to think of anything other than her.

The incident happened at the market.

A local vendor, a kind, older man who sold fresh fruit, was being harassed by a group of thugs. They knocked over crates, laughing as apples and pears rolled across the dirt.

"Pay up, old man. Don’t think we forgot your debt."

Robin was too far away, speaking with a group of women who had begged for one more song. So you did what any decent person would do.

You stepped in.

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

The leader sneered. "Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?"

You weren’t exactly intimidating, but you held your ground. "Just walk away."

For a second, it seemed like they might. Then, one of them used a knife aimed towards you. You felt blood on your arm. The fruit vendor shouted in alarm.

But then—

A melody cut through the chaos.

"Oh dear," Robin’s voice floated through the air, lilting and amused. "It seems I’ve come at the perfect time."

The thugs froze. Their eyes glazed over as the sound of her song wrapped around them like vines, twisting through their minds, rooting itself deep into their thoughts.

You watched in stunned silence as their expressions slackened. The one who had cut you dropped his knife, eyes unfocused, lips trembling like he was on the verge of tears.

Robin stepped between you and them.

"Now," she purred, tilting her head, "I could tell you to leave, but where would the fun be in that?"

The melody shifted.

The men shuddered.

Without another word, they turned and ran.

"What…?" You blinked at their retreating figures, confused. "How did you—?"

"Are you alright?" Robin cut in as she turned to you. Her gaze flickered to your injured arm, tears are about to fall from her eyes.

"That was reckless of you..." she murmured, stepping closer.

You gave a sheepish laugh, wincing as you pressed a hand to your wound. "I just… I couldn’t stand by and do nothing."

"You’re too kind for your own good."

Her other hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek in a slow motion.

"You should leave these things to me," she whispered. "I’ll always keep you safe."

You smiled at her, relieved. "Thanks, Robin. I don’t know what you did, but… I’m glad you were here."

"Of course. I’ll always be here."

By the time you returned home, the sun had already dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dusky purples and oranges. The weight of the day clung to your limbs, but somehow, having Robin beside you made everything feel lighter.

"You’re still bleeding, you know" she murmured, glancing at your arm as you stepped inside.

"I’ll clean it up in a bit" you reassured her.

Robin frowned, but didn’t push further. Instead, she turned toward the bathroom, stretching her arms above her head. "Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to freshen up."

You chuckled, watching as she disappeared behind the door.

The sound of water filled the quiet house as Robin bathed. You took the time to bandage your wound, then unpacked the things you had bought earlier—some vegetables, spices, and a small box of decorative hairpins. You had grabbed them on a whim, thinking they’d suit her.

By the time she emerged, steam curling from behind her, Robin looked more ethereal than ever. A towel was draped around her shoulders, her damp silver-blue hair cascading down in loose strands.

"Come here" you gestured, patting the seat in front of you.

Robin raised a brow but complied, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "What are you up to?"

"Your hair. It’s still wet." You reached for a cloth, gently running it through her locks, soaking up the moisture.

At first, she said nothing, only closed her eyes, letting you take care of her. The room was silent except for the soft sound of the towel brushing against her hair. You moved with careful fingers, untangling knots, smoothing out each strand.

"You’re so gentle" she murmured.

You huffed a laugh. "Is that surprising?"

"No. Just… nice."

When her hair was dry, you reached for the brush and slowly ran it through the silken strands, watching the way the light caught in them.

"You have really pretty hair, Robin."

Robin’s eyes fluttered open, tilting her head slightly to glance at you. "You think so?"

"Mhm." You set the brush down, reaching for the box of hairpins. "I, uh… got you these earlier. Thought they’d look nice on you."

Robin blinked in surprise as you opened the box, revealing delicate pins shaped like tiny birds and flowers. For a moment, she simply stared at them, then she let out a soft laughter.

"You’re too sweet, Y/n" she hummed, tilting her head. "Go on, then. Decorate me as you please."

You rolled your eyes at her playful tone but got to work. Carefully, you gathered sections of her hair, twisting them into an elegant half-up style, securing them with the pins. When you were done, you sat back, admiring your work.

"Beautiful."

Robin turned to you, smiling. "Why, thank you."

After taking care of her hair, you moved to the kitchen, determined to cook something nice for her. Robin sat nearby, watching with quiet amusement as you chopped ingredients and stirred the pot.

"You don’t have to do all this for me, you know" she mused, resting her chin on her palm.

"I want to," you replied simply. "You’re always helping others. Let me take care of you for once."

Dinner was warm, filling, and cozy. You ate together, sharing small stories and laughter between bites. But the real fun came afterward.

Robin had been humming absentmindedly, some melody she had sung in the market earlier, when you decided—for some reason—that you wanted to return the favor.

"I should sing for you too" you declared.

Robin perked up immediately, teal eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh? Please, go on. I’d love to hear it."

You hesitated. Bad idea.

But it was too late. Robin was already watching, waiting, anticipation clear on her face.

So, you took a deep breath and started singing.

And—it was bad.

Off-key. Wobbly. Nowhere near the enchanting, ethereal quality of Robin’s voice. But you kept going, determined.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Robin burst into laughter.

"Oh, Y/n.." she gasped between giggles, clutching her stomach. "That was… truly something."

"Hey!" You huffed, throwing a napkin at her.

She caught it easily. "Don’t pout, don’t pout. It was adorable."

Despite her teasing, Robin’s laughter was light, happy. And as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but feel warmth spread through your chest at the sound.

As the night stretched on, the two of you stayed like that—talking, laughing, simply existing in each other’s presence.

Morning came. You stretched with a yawn, blinking sleepily as the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. Robin had already woken before you—unsurprising, given her boundless energy.

"Good morning, Y/n" her voice drifted in softly from the other room.

You followed the sound, finding her standing by the small greenhouse extension you had built—just a tiny, sunlit space where you kept the plants you’d been tending for years.

Robin looked ethereal, dressed in soft pastels, her hair still pinned up the way you had styled it the night before. A teacup rested in her delicate hands as she gazed at the plants.

"You take such good care of them"

You chuckled, stepping beside her. "Of course. I’ve had them for a while. Some of these I even grew from seedlings."

Robin’s teal eyes flickered toward you, a small smile gracing her lips. "I see… so they are very dear to you."

"Well, yeah." You knelt down, checking the soil of a small potted rosemary plant. "It’s rewarding, watching them grow. But I guess you’d understand that better than anyone."

Robin hummed, sipping her tea. "Yes… though, unlike them, I can love you back."

You blinked, glancing up at her.

Robin smiled, serene and elegant as always, tilting her head slightly. "Plants do not think. They do not feel. They merely exist, waiting for your touch, your care. But me…"

"I can cherish you properly."

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "They’re just plants, Robin. I don’t love them like I love people."

Robin exhaled, her smile deepening as she reached out and plucked a small petal from one of the flowers. She twirled it between her fingers, watching it spin before it fluttered to the floor.

"Good" she whispered, almost to herself.

The rest of the day passed in quiet, domestic bliss. Robin helped you prepare lunch, her hands moving with practiced grace as she plated the dishes with an elegance that made even simple meals look like fine dining. She never ate much, but she always insisted on tasting anything you made.

"If you’ve prepared it, then it must be worth savoring" she would say, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Afterward, you found yourself lying on the couch, exhausted from the morning’s errands. Robin sat beside you, fingers combing gently through your hair.

"You should rest more" she murmured, her voice a delicate melody. "It’s no wonder you sleep so deeply."

"Mhm… guess I’m just used to staying busy" you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

"Then allow me to lull you."

The familiar hum of her voice. It wrapped around you like silk, smooth and sweet, threading through your consciousness, urging you into the embrace of sleep. You barely resisted. Robin continued stroking your hair, her touch light, careful.

"That’s right," she whispered, almost inaudible. "Just stay close to me. Only me."

You didn’t hear it. You had already slipped into dreams.

That evening, as you stepped back into the greenhouse to water the plants, something felt… off.

A few of the smaller plants were gone.

Not withered. Not rotting. Simply… missing, as if they had never been there at all. The soil remained undisturbed, no signs of pests or animals. The pots that once held their stems sat empty, eerily clean.

"Robin?" you called.

She stepped in behind you, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Yes?"

You gestured toward the empty pots. "Did you move some of the plants?"

Robin tilted her head, eyes wide with soft curiosity.

"Oh? Were they important?"

"It’s fine. Maybe I forgot I repotted them or something."

Robin smiled, reaching up to adjust one of the hairpins you had given her.

"Yes," she murmured, "perhaps that’s it."

The moment passed. The warmth returned.

And yet, as you continued through the night, laughing with her, cooking for her, letting her tease you over your terrible singing…

The missing plants lingered in the back of your mind.

Like something unseen, waiting in the dark.

That night, you saw her in your dream, you assumed it was simply coincidence.

You stood in a vast garden bathed in moonlight, flowers blooming in unfamiliar yet impossibly beautiful shapes. The air was thick with a gentle fragrance. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of a melody drifted through the stillness.

She stood under a tree heavy with pale blossoms, her hair cascading down while the same hairpins you had gifted her glinting faintly in the glow.

"Oh," she smiled softly, folding her hands in front of her. "You’re here."

Her voice was as delicate as the night breeze, carrying a warmth that made your chest feel light.

"Robin?" you asked, blinking. "Why are you…?"

"It seems your mind has called for me."

"I don’t remember—"

"It does not matter. We are here now, and that is enough, is it not?"

Something about the way she said it made you nod, despite the lingering confusion.

She reached out then, brushing her fingers along your wrist. "You are tired. Let me grant you peace, my dear."

And before you could say anything else, the world melted into warmth.

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, heart pounding faintly in your chest. The dream had been so vivid. You could still feel the cool night air, the scent of flowers, the softness of Robin’s voice lingering at the edge of your senses.

"Good morning"

Robin was there, standing by the open window, bathed in morning light. She turned to you with a soft smile, as if she had been waiting for you to wake.

"You seemed to sleep quite deeply," she mused, approaching with measured grace. "I do hope you found rest."

You sat up, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah… I had a strange dream."

Robin tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her teal eyes. "Oh? Do tell."

You hesitated. The memory of the dream was still fresh, yet the more you thought about it, the more distant it seemed—like mist slipping through your fingers.

"It was just… a garden," you muttered. "And you were there."

"How lovely," she murmured. "Perhaps your heart simply longs for me, even in sleep."

She said it so lightly, so effortlessly, that you almost didn’t catch the weight of her words.

You laughed, brushing it off. "You make it sound so dramatic."

Robin chuckled, shaking her head. "I merely speak the truth."

"Regardless," she continued, "I am pleased. You should always rest knowing I am near."

The day passed with a familiar rhythm. Robin accompanied you to the market again, her presence as radiant as ever. She spoke with people kindly, helped an elderly woman carry her wares, and even hummed a tune that made a crying child calm almost instantly.

You watched as stall owners greeted her with warmth, their expressions softening the moment she smiled. It was as if she brought ease wherever she went—like a breeze that smoothed out the rough edges of the world.

But when you glanced at her, you noticed the way her gaze lingered on you.

Not just fond. Something darker.

"Is something the matter?"

You shook your head. "No. Just… watching."

Robin’s lips curled slightly.

"Then please," she murmured, "watch only me."

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #robin x reader #robin hsr #robin honkai star rail #heliosmysplant

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solspina · 4 months ago

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We Should Stick Together (2)

sanguinius ⋆˙⟡

hello! remember this that i wrote like 3 months ago? flooding my inbox worked, and i gift you all the part 2 that you harassed me for (affectionate). i hope you enjoy, and please feel free to drop more writing ideas in my inbox if you have them!! i have work in 6 hours so i am very sorry for spelling or grammar mistakes :)

as the race to the imperial palace comes to an abrupt end, sanguinius confronts his greatest fear, and finally discovers whether this is a battle he wins or loses to his perfect phoenician brother.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: n/a

(part 1)

Sanguinius turned back, ensuring that Fulgrim had become a mere speck in the distance, even to the sharp and trained eyes of the avian mutant.

Five minutes… He had five minutes at most before the Phoenician stormed into the imperial palace and attempted to track down the woman he knew was his brother’s desired bride. Although much slower than the angel, Fulgrim was still a primarch, and therefore incomprehensibly faster on foot than the average human. The duo had only ventured about three miles away from the palace to begin with, and though Sanguinius could cover that distance in half the time his brother could, he still worried for the little time he had.

The angel landed rather clumsily, his feet failing to obtain a proper stance on the floor before his wings had folded in upon his back. He stumbled, unable to catch himself before his clothes and feathers were covered in the dusts of holy Terra just as his hands had been.

In flight, his appearance had become quite disheveled, and was now accompanied by the filth of the ground. His hair had become frizzy from the abuse upon it by the wind, and his loose feathers stood on his wings in a way that made them rather itchy. He would deal with that later. No time to lose right now.

His stagger to his feet was near immediate. One moment of hesitation meant one moment Fulgrim would inch closer to the imperial place.

Sanguinius was most concerned with finding her before the phonecian ever even got the opportunity, but the thought that he had not prepared a speech lingered in the back of his head like a quickly spreading disease. The great angel was and always had been an artist of impeccable detail, a poet of unimaginably beautiful words, a man who spoke to inspire the masses. And yet despite all of this, so was his brother, whom no doubt had much more time to prepare for the exact upcoming moment.

Pale white wings trembled ever so slightly at the thought, yet they caused the angel to more hastily sprint through every room that a baseline could possibly hide in. What if, even if he had been here first, Fulgrim’s speech was more captivating and practiced? What if she cared more about the display and grandeur than the intentions of her suitor? Did she know that Fulgrim had been married before? That he would have infinitely more experience when it was time to bed he-

Not the time to think about that.

Sanguinius turned another corner as he searched for the person he so desired, but again he found nothing. Thus began his endless chase of navigating this imperial labyrinth. He turned another, and another, and another, and another, until he finally found himself gazing into one of the imperial palace's many greenhouses.

There he saw his dearest beloved sitting elegantly by a pond filled with fish of many species. Greenery, a lovely assortment of flowers and, golden sunset light adorned her body in an impossibly perfect halo. The water that poured from the elaborate fountains complimented the melody in her voice like a song made only by nature's most beautiful things, meant to cleanse his very soul.

The scene would have been a dream if not made a nightmare by the pompous and flamboyant voice of Fulgrim, drowning out what should have been Sanguinius' idealized solace.

The Phoenician let out a pretentious laugh at something the baseline said, and the angel physically cringed at the way she placed her hands over her stomach to ease her own mirth. The sight should have been something glorious, enchanting to the eyes of the ninth. It had been so many times before, yet he only felt his blood begin to boil.

only I should make you laugh that way.

He did not know what emotion flooded his heart the most. Envy? Or perhaps sorrow? rage? resentment for his silver haired brother?

What he did know, however, was that he had lost.

Somewhere amongst an incredibly confusing concoction of emotions, the angel was beyond certain that a searing heartache was included in the most prevalent of them.

He may have been able to disguise his current visage as nervousness, were anyone of importance to ask why his mood had become morose. Social interaction with a passing custodian or serf had become the least of his worries. He did not care much, at this point, if someone saw him sulking in the doorway to the garden, grieving a baseline as if he had - for lack of a better comparison - lost his lover.

Not that a soul would come through to the conservatory anyway.

"Brother!" The palatine phoenix called. His voice was loud, deafening almost. High and mighty as ever, and calling upon all eyes that could see to face the angel in his horrent state of embarrassment. "Come! We have awaited your presence."

The smile of the third was hideously genuine. The stretch of his lips when his eyes met those of the human was so sweet it was sickening to Sanguinius - so much so that it sent a chill up his spine that caused his feathers to fluff and clatter against each other when he reacted to the sensation.

"We were just discussing you." The Phoenician beamed as the angel mournfully walked forward.

"Ah." Sanguinius replied. His cheerful personality had become lost somewhere deep in his chest, and what little of his voice he displayed had become somber and quiet. Quite truthfully, he was not in the mood for any type of social affair. He especially did not want to take part in the type of conversation that had likely already seen his would-be espouse become betrothed to his perfect, handsome, non-mutant brother.

"I was just about to ask this lovely baseline of ours a very important question~"

Oh?

About to?

Fulgrim hadn't asked yet?

The angel swore he saw the third wink at him before he started to begin speaking again. Something in those shiny violet eyes beckoned the angel as they stared deep into his ruby red gaze. An opportunity, he thought, a wordless promise. - "ask her now. last chance."

Before the phoenix could fall gracefully onto one knee, the golden primarch hastily plucked the red-diamond ring - a gem color choice Sanguinius found ironic - and fell to both knees. He firmly grabbed both of the human's small hands with his own and placed them gently to his forehead, unmistakably in a position of prayer.

"Please!" He cried. His voice rang almost in protest, if not for the tears forming in his eyes alongside the exasperation in his breath and the sobs in his voice. "Listen not to a word Fulgrim says! You should marry me! Me!" He paused, only to take one pathetic gasp of air and look up into her eyes.

"Brother..."

"You have not one idea how long I have waited, how hard I have worked to find the perfect gift! And now I am rushed! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Sanguinius!" The phoenician shouted. "I was going to ask her if she had eaten yet today. So you could have done this over dinner."

The angel paused; his crying ceased. "What...?" Two crimson eyes both widened, and then dulled in embarrassment as he looked back up at the baseline. She looked at him in complete and utter stupor.

"W-wait. I can explain." He stuttered out.

She sighed in response, but followed the fading of her shock with a grin and gentle laugh.

Sanguinius did not know how he felt, regardless of her pleasant reaction. She gently removed her hands from his, taking her hand and wiping away tears from his pathetic, wet face. "Ask me again over dinner."

Her smile did not fade. Not even for a moment.

The ninth shared a sigh of his own, before giving a nod and a kind smile of his own in approval. He hoped he hadn't looked as bad as he thought, despite his disheveled hair, wings browned from terran dust, and now burning red cheeks.

"I will clean myself up, and do this properly." He promised. He bowed slightly to her, taking her hand and giving the back of it a soft and proper kiss. "Wear your nicest clothing. I will treat you to whatever you wish, as an apology."

"To tonight, then." She gracefully returned his bow. Her face was covered in a gentle blush of its own, her eyes just as upturned and full of joy as they had been earlier. Perhaps now even more so.

The angel turned to search for Fulgrim, hoping to give him a gaze that asked whether or not this was a good thing.

When his eyes finally found his brother, though, he was already making his way out of the greenhouse. Shaking his head and indulging in some giggles of his own.

Solspina's Scribellum✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

@astrohymn @moodymisty @undeaddream

@lemon-russ @kit-williams @nereidof40k

@jackalwolfsoul @beckyninja @verylazykiwi

(please comment to be added/removed from my taglist !!)

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #sanguinius x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 30000 #40k x reader #sanguinius #warhammer 40k x reader #please save me sanguinius

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lemon-russ · 10 months ago

Text

The Unfathomable Burden Of Premonition

I had cursed thoughts and now curse them unto you :') Short and sad. (Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers)

CW: Sad, mentions of death

Ao3

Taglist: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye

Song: For the widows in paradise for the fatherless in ypsilanti - Sufjan Stevens

Even if I come back, even if I die Is there some idea to replace my life? Like a father to impress Like a mother's mourning dress If you ever make a mess, I'll do anything for you

Sanguinius paced the elegant nursery.

The tiny, cherub like form of his infant son lay peacefully in his bassinet, a cradle of gold bars and red silks. One of his sons- the 7 foot tall astartes variety, not to be confused- had created the bed for his newest brother of sorts when Sanguinius announced that their Legion Mother was with child. They had all been so excited, and excited more when the baby was born with two little feathered wings, like Sanguinius himself.

The Greatest Angel, they jokingly called his son, playing off Sanguinius’ own moniker of The Great Angel.

He stepped to the bassinet's side once more, carefully leaning over and stroking the chubby cheek of his sleeping child. Little wings splayed, cherub-like cheeks and golden curls so much like his own. The only thing he'd gotten from the Legion Mother was his eyes.

Sanguinius wondered how else his son would be like him. Would he be creative? Empathetic and kind? Would he be wracked with the deep, gnawing rage Sanguinius had to constantly subdue? Or worse, would his dreams be plauged with visions of things yet come to pass? Things the Angel now grew increasingly concerned were going to happen, instead of his normal omens of things that may or may not.

No, these new dreams were far too specific. No vauge metaphor, no blurry half remembered shapes. A clear, defined vision of his brother, the warmaster himself, standing over Sanguinius’ corpse.

Would he see his sons first birthday, he wondered. He knelt beside the cradle, laying his arms and head on the side so he could watch the tiny movement of the baby's belly as he breathed.

His wife had explained many of her homeland traditions for children, and a first birthday was a large celebration. She already was planning for it, and their child was only a month old.

He gently pet his son's gold curls. Maybe the vision of his death happens centuries from now. Maybe his son will become a strong, grown man before he is forced to handle his father's demise. Or maybe it happens soon, and he misses all the milestones a baby goes through as they to navigate their new bodies and the world around them.

When his wife told him she was pregnant, one of his first thoughts was how excited he was to have someone to fly with- if the child had wings, she had told him with a gentle smile. But of course his child would have wings, he had told her, they will be more of an angel than he ever had been. He wouldn't have been surprised if they'd have come out with a golden halo of light to match.

Flying lessons. He hoped he got to give his son flying lessons someday. It had been trial and error for him. A lot of jumping off things and not quite making it. His primarch durability helped, but they didn't know the extent that his son inherited that resilience. If he couldn't teach him the tricks to taking off and landing, would he have to repeat Sanguinius’ methods? He imagined the little cherub flinging himself off a tall rock, flapping his wings and crashing to the sands. A smile crossed the Great Angel’s face at the thought of the little boy finally staying in the air for a moment before falling once more. He'd be so excited, just like the first time Sanguinius had managed to flap mid air.

He'd write a guide, he thought. Just in case. A manual to flying, assuming his son had similar wings to his own. Then he could at least have guidance while his poor mother watched him careen himself off of cliffs.

He swallowed back a growing lump in his throat, reminding himself he had no idea if he'd be gone sooner or later. It was just as likely that he expirenced all the wonders and tribulations of fatherhood as not, he lied to himself. The growing bookshelf of handwritten tomes in the corner of the nursery were just safeguards.

There was a good chance his son would never need to sit by the little library and read his father's notes on dealing with a red thirst, should he inherit it. Hardly a chance the boy would borrow a leatherbound tome from the Legion Mother's desk, then sit in his fathers old office, a tear stained journal page open, reading about his father meticulously sculpting a rose from gold to present to his wife as his son painted his mother a picture of the flower for her birthday.

A tear fell to the bed, discoloring the deep red silks of the baby's sheets. Sanguinius sighed, dabbing his eyes and composing himself. He gently leaned in an kissed the infant's tiny forehead before crossing the elaborately decorated nursery and sitting back at the little writing table he'd brought in. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before picking his pen up once more and returning to the almost filled pages of another leatherbound book. What had he wanted to write? Ah, yes- he thought, as he titled the top of the page “Lessons in flying”.

Sanguinius turned back a moment, eyeing the strewn toys of the nursery. The walls were decorated in the finest gifts his genesons had been showering the child with. Many paintings depicting a cherub in golden light. One statue was a recreation of the baby in his fathers arms, moments after being born. A large, hand sewn plush bear sat in a corner, guarding the babe from bad dreams.

There was very little chance his son would need these notes and lessons and journals, he once again lied to himself. He should be relaxing, maybe spoiling his wife, maybe trying to get his own neglected work done. He watched the baby breathe those tiny, fluttering breaths a moment more before turning back to his writing.

Just in case. He will write everything his son may need to ask a father. Just in case.

#my work #warhammer 40k #The formatting of the lyrics literally refuses to cooperate its staying like that #wh40k fanfic #wh40k fic #xreader #x reader

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knight-a3 · 4 months ago

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Hazbin Masterpost

Heavenbound Masterpost

Sera, high radiant seraphim

I wanted angels to look more human. The whole "biblically accurate angels" thing is not quite as biblically accurate as you probably think.

More under the cut

This gets into some theology. So, I wanted heaven to be more human, since God created man in his own image, and it works best with the lore I am building. It just gives a more heavenly vibe when the angels aren't some creature-things. I want heaven to feel heavenly, okay?

Clothes: I changed her outfit, because the canon one is a bit too complicated and I didn't understand the construction of it. So I did something that's easier for me to understand. It's overall more animation friendly, and that pleases me.

Halo: I have specific ideas about halos. They denote the type and rank of angel they are. Seraphim have two silver ring halos. I haven't decided if I want to make her one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues (the Elder Seraphim) or just the head of the Radiant Seraphim(the broader rank of seraphim). Either could work. But if she's a virtue, I'd need to make a small change to her halo, as per my own lore rules.

Wings: I've decided to give seraphim wings with three sets(six total) of primary feathers, instead of six entirely separate wings. Mostly because I do not want to draw that many wings nor figure out the anatomy of it. It mimics the six-winged look while being easier for me to wrap my head around and draw. I also just like the look better.

They can also be summoned and dismissed at will, because I don't want to have to draw them all the time. It's a cop out, but I will do it.

--Biblically Accurate Angels--

"Biblically accurate" is not quite what most people think. Y'all are like, "biblically accurate angels are crazy looking eyeball and wing monstrosities, no wonder people were scared!" But that's literally not what the bible says.

Angel means "messenger", and they often appear as regular-looking people. Sometimes they have a "countenance of lightning" and "raiment white as snow". Jesus was once described(post-resurrection) as having feet of molten bronze(the molten part is the key: it's literally white-hot, not brown) and hair as wool(specifically referring to the color, not texture, and the commonly associated color is white). These are descriptions of glowing.

The crazier depictions tend to happen in visions or dreams, too. It's likely they were symbolic descriptions rather than literal. That the individual components had a cultural connotation that implied something about them. Many eyes symbolized constant watchfulness, for example. I mean, we sometimes describe an angry person as having fire in their eyes or steam coming out their ears, and that's not literal. We describe a sly person as a snake or a fox, but it's not literal. The book of Revelations and the Old Testament, in particular, use imagery, symbolism, and metaphors A LOT. And things get a little muddy when carried between language, culture, and time. Translation, localization, and modernization are tricky processes.

--Seraphim-- <-Link to some helpful info about this topic, if you're interested in that type of thing.

"Seraph" is a back-formation. It's a singular form of a pre-existing plural word. Seraphim is the plural form. I will probably use seraphs and seraphim interchangeably, so just don't worry about that.

The Hebrew root word "sarap" means something along the lines of "burning". It was often used to refer to snakes (possibly because the venom causes a burning sensation, or maybe as a metaphor for purification). It is only used once to describe a heavenly being, in the book of Isaiah. Every other time, it is translated as "burning ones" or "fiery flying serpent". In Egypt and other surrounding cultures, cobras would be used to symbolize divinity, sovereignty, and royalty. The Hebrews probably adopted the imagery. The seraphim described in the Bible might not even refer to what we typically imagine to be angels.

Long story short; seraphim means fiery flying serpents and symbolize divinity and/or purification.

--Cherubim-- <-Link to more cool info!

While I'm on the topic of the etymology of angels, I might as well address cherubs. Cherubim is the proper plural form, but I will probably use cherubs and cherubim interchangeably as well. Just roll with it, it's fine.

The youthful child depiction possibly comes from some rabbinic folk lore that claims the word is related to the Aramaic term for "like a child" or "youthful", but I'm not sure if that's true.

What I'm seeing most consistently is that they're implied to have wings. It seems commonly accepted that it comes from an Akkadian word meaning, "to bless". One source claims it means "hybrid" or "mount, steed" and refers to winged beasts that the Canaanite sky god would ride. Which would align with the depictions of cherubim as tetrads(a hybrid of four creatures), and/or the use of it as some sort of divine flying chariot.

There are a lot of theories, but nothing concrete. It gets very unclear and I'm not an expert. But I'm incorporating a variety of ideas into my lore, and I think I'm doing good with balancing them.

In the end, I'm using the terms seraphim and cherubim to describe ranks of angels, because it's what works best with our current understanding of the words. I'm not going to include the other traditional classes of angels like dominions, thrones, etc, because it's overly complicated, and not actually biblical. I don't want to waste brain power on that. Also, the Bible doesn't actually describe the hierarchy of angels at all. It's not even clear if seraphim and cherubim are supposed to be considered angels.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hellaverse #sera seraphim #hazbin heaven #seraphim #cherubim #heavenbound au #a3 art #fanart #digital art #character sheet

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respectthepetty · 5 months ago

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Background Noise - Futtara Doshaburi

I liked that right after returning the umbrellas to the restaurant, the guys had to take refuge in a nearby building to escape from the unexpected rain.

And it gave a peak into their reactions when the unexpected happens. Hagiwara Kazuakia laughs. He finds joy in the break of monotony, but Nakarai Sei pauses and assesses.

Then he explores.

And while he reflects on the pieces and his placement with them,

Hagiwara Kazuakia gets far more personal with the art and inserts his physical presence in the art.

This was also seen in their responses to the "two types of women" question since Hagiwara Kazuakia, who is sexually frustrated with his girlfriend, saw women as objects to be fucked or not fucked, and Nakarai Sei, who is sexually attracted to men, viewed women as an aesthetic who either put on makeup in front of others or didn't.

The building they enter is an actual gallery, and a majority of the artwork is Akio Omori's, but without knowing the artist's intentions, his artwork seems to rest in a space of spirituality and the feminine, which is an interesting theme for these two to journey through together.

The flowers, which are viewed as feminine object, have some spiritual correlation. The translation of the first dark flower, which could be incorrect, is "Devil's Thoughts" and it seems to have dragon-like wings and thorns. The second red flower with its gold butterfly-like wings that Nakarai Sei closely looked at was titled "Angel's Face," so we have the abstract (thought) and the physical (face), but also good and evil.

And this dichotomy runs throughout the pieces, yet it's more of a question of the complexity of two supposedly different ideas since both flowers are still beautiful and tempting, which we also see with the celestial bodies.

Red is normally the color associated with the devil and aggression. But also love, and the red figure with its gold wings has the halo. It's the angel.

While the blue and white figure, which are normally colors associated with purity and heaven, has the dragon wings and the spiked tail. It is the devil.

Then we come to the grand piece that resides in another space separated from the rest.

As a Catholic, I immediately saw La Virgen.

But I also noted the shaped of the statue because it looks like a vulva.

And it wouldn't be the first time I saw a vulva in art when that was never the artist's intention (hello, Georgia O'Keeffe, we meet again!), but I do think it adds to the way each man reacts to the piece since they have already walked through a room that has planted the foundation for complex thought since the piece is about a devout woman who ascends to heaven while her chest is partially exposed. The piece is about heaven/God/good, and although the bare chest isn't sexual, there is something about the shape of the statue and the exposure that makes it feel a little tempting, like the flowers.

Hagiwara Kazuakia, the one who enjoys the unexpected, the one who gets closer to the art, the one who inserts himself into the art, sees it as a female statue that reminds him of his sexual frustrations. But Nakarai Sei, the one who pauses and reflects, the one who keeps his distance, the one who thinks about himself in relation to the art, sees it as a wooden statue which, although exposed, can't decide if the statue is obscene or sad. It's the "two type of women" question all over again.

Because just like Fujisawa Kazuaki stated, "no matter what I pick, it will apply to men too. Traits that befit women or men don't really exist," so the men aren't simply looking at art that is nestled in the complex relationship between the feminine and spiritual, but they are examining themselves.

Then the rain stops.

In their relationships, the men dream about the past and the future, but only question the present with each other. Hagiwara Kazuakia hates that he can hear the rain in his apartment because it reminds him of what he once had with his girlfriend. He is stuck in the same cycle of replaying the past.

Nakarai Sei hates that he cannot hear the ran in his apartment because it reminds him of how alone he is and what he will never have. He is stuck in a prison he refuses to leave.

And yet Nakarai Sei stood in the rain outside of the restaurant and Hagiwara Kazuakia tried to provide him shelter from the rain. The past and future collided in the present.

So when they arrived on the gallery's steps after returning the umbrellas, Nakarai Sei went inside to hide from the rain, and Hagiwara Kazuakia laughed as he enjoyed the surprise of it.

The art is them. Neither is simply one thing. They are complex. But they also a pair. We have the angel with its spiked tail and the devil with the halo. We have the winged flowers. We have a man who hates the rain yet laughs when it does rain and one who misses the rain yet hides when it does rain. And I think that is why they have this yin and yang quality to them. They see things differently, yet neither is fully right or wrong. They are the celestial figures. They are the statue. They are frustration and sadness. But they need the other one so they can understand that.

They are getting to know themselves by understanding the other. They want BOTH intimacy and sex, but they are figuring that out as they ask more questions of the other since for the first time they are focusing on the present, so their responses to finding out that their pen pal is right next to them after Hagiwara Kazuakia sends the email about the rain noise app is the same response they had when it rained. Nakarai Sei sits in it and thinks it over, and Hagiwara Kazuakia laughs. Because it's the unexpected.

And for two men who keep going through the motions of what is expected of them, they need the other one to shake up their expectations of what is right, what is good, what it is be a man

And what it means to love.

#when it rains it pours #Futtara Doshaburi #I am enjoying this show #the colors mean things #and so does the art #background noise #the boys are figuring out the complexity of life . . . together #there is no ONE way to do anything #especially love #long post

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gyaru-tau · 10 months ago

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FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

#syd spiels qsmp #my art #qsmp #syd's art #q!philza #philza #qsmp ender king #im so sleepy guys i gotta be up early tomorrow

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rea-grimm · 7 months ago

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The king of the hell

You were already a sculptor at school and as soon as you got your training you became a sculpture restorer. You worked in castles and sometimes clients would bring you statues that needed repair. You made your own sculptures, but only when you had time and an idea that was worthwhile.

But now you wanted to get to work repairing a statue that had been brought in a few days ago. It was an ancient statue that, to everyone's surprise, retained all its limbs. Actually, it was relatively well preserved, as it had been found recently in a cave that had been used as a temple to the god of the underworld. Or so they told you.

The scientists had already completely excavated it, and now they wanted you to return it to its former glory. The statue was overgrown with moss, and a piece had been chipped off here and there, nothing you couldn't handle.

You walked into your studio, where in the middle of it, on a heavy pedestal, was a black marble statue, several metres high, covered with a white sheet to keep the dust from falling on it. To reach the top of the statue, you had to take a stepladder.

You took the sheet off the statue and sat on the ladder for a while, looking at this unique piece of art. You've always admired how in ancient times they could make statues that looked like sleeping people.

You were struck by several things at once with this statue. For a statue of a god or king, the figure had almost angelic wings and his face was covered in a strange mask. The crown placed on his head looked like spikes and behind the wings you first thought it was a halo but then you realized it was fire.

You stepped down from the ladder and many questions ran through your head as you looked. Was it the king of the underworld? What if it was an angel first. A reference to the Bible? What could be hiding under the mask?

You were walking around the statue when you noticed the strange text on the base. It was quite illegible. You wiped it carefully with a rag and thought it said a name. But you had trouble deciphering it, even with the alphabet of the language the scientists had given you. So you'd know what font was used and not accidentally change it.

There were other strange words next to the name that made no sense to you. You ran your hand over them and read them aloud to yourself. To your surprise, the letters glowed with a fiery light.

Everything around you went dark and all you could see was the fire writing that grew and formed a circle around you. You had no idea what to do when the ground caved in beneath your feet and you began to fall.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, your eyes closed in fear. You had no idea how long you fell, but you finally landed on the smooth cold floor.

When you opened your eyes, you looked around as you had no idea where you were. You'd been in the apartment below you before, and it looked decidedly different.

You were now in a large room of black marble. There were torches on columns at the sides, illuminating the room. You felt like you were in a palace.

You turned around to take in the entire room when your eyes fell on a massive black and silver throne, upon which sat a man who looked like a reanimated version of the statue you were supposed to be repairing.

Dressed all in black, with a white shirt, a black mask covering his face and a silver crown on his head. Large black wings stuck out of his back and a bright flame burned behind his head like a halo. Did you hit your head and this was just a dream?

Only his eyes were visible through the mask. Eyes with a look so cold it chilled you. And though you must have caught him off guard, he didn't show it. The king strained to look at you.

"What are you doing here? No mortal is allowed here," he said sternly.

"Where am I?" You asked, still not knowing if it was real or a dream.

"The underworld. Realm of the dead," he replied bluntly, as if it were obvious.

"Realm of the dead?" You asked, rather to yourself, before looking back up at the king. "And how do I get back?" You asked.

"You must prove your worth. You have to earn it. But you are no warrior who can beat me in a fight..." he said, measuring you with his gaze. "Perhaps another quest to prove yourself..."

He said, resting his chin before looking at you again. You got the impression he was trying to think of something equally difficult, if not more so.

"I'll take you back to the world of the living if you can guess my name," he finally said in a confident voice, as he was sure it was an impossible task for a mortal.

For everyone thought he was Hades, Anubis, Pluto, Ah Puch, Mictlantecuhtli, Apophis, or even Hel or Kali and others. And those who had formerly honored him with the proper name were long ago in his realm, as were all mentions of him.

"What? How should I know?" You were taken completely by surprise.

"Is that your answer?" He asked you sternly, and you were sure he grinned beneath his mask.

"No," you quickly shook your head. You rubbed your chin, wondering what his name might be.

The first names you thought of were Hades and Pluto. But you had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy. Instead, you remembered the letters on the base of the statue.

You closed your eyes and focused on the text. King... son of Luna... Alber... and then there was text you didn't understand. Finally, you decided to try your luck.

"Is that Alber?" you asked, and you saw his wings twitch in surprise.

"How did you find out?" He asked sternly, but you could still hear some surprise in his voice.

"It was written on the base of the statue I'm repairing," you explained.

King measured you with his gaze before finally rising from his throne and deciding to make good on his word. After all, you had fulfilled his challenge, and as King, he kept his word. Besides, he was interested in what his particular statue was. Until now, he thought time had buried and destroyed them all.

As promised, the King escorted you back to the world of the living, specifically back to your studio. King was actually a little surprised at how much the world of the living had changed from the last time he'd seen it.

He'd heard the deceased speak of their time, but never paid much attention. Most of these things were quite trivial to life in the underworld.

He looked around and noticed the damaged statue that had gotten you into the underworld and made you know his real name. Once he had seen enough in his opinion, King vanished without a word.

Ever since that incident, you've archly avoided the inscription on the statue during the repairs. You didn't want to accidentally go back to the underworld.

Though a part of you was becoming more and more interested in what was hiding under the dark mask that gave room only for his eyes. Plus, you wondered what lay beneath the stern surface.

You had no idea what exactly it was, but as you thought more and more about the king, it was only unexpectedly that you touched the letters on the pedestal, which lit up again and sent you to the underworld.

The King was in the midst of insulting a few servants who listened to him with their heads down and just nodded when you appeared. Just as you hit the ground, the eyes of the entire room turned to you.

You smiled nervously and waved. You could clearly see in his stance that he wasn't happy to see you there again and immediately ordered everyone to leave.

King didn't understand why you were there and he certainly wasn't happy about it. He cursed at you, threatened you and immediately wanted you sent away.

Before he could do so, however, you bombarded him with the questions you had for him that had been gnawing at your mind since the first time you met him.

When you did, you got the impression he'd rather throw you to the lions or drown you in the River Styx. He even tried to grab you by the throat, but at this point the height difference played in your favor and you slipped easily under his feet. However, when he finally caught you, and to your surprise acknowledged that you weren't a bad distraction at all, he sent you back up.

These encounters were becoming something of a regular occurrence, with the king slowly ceasing to banish you and rather looking forward to seeing you brighten up his ordinary and almost monotonous days in the underworld. You had no idea how, but gradually you fell into sync.

The King kept you mostly as his little secret, as he had a certain reputation that he wasn't about to tarnish with any dalliance with a living mortal. He wasn't going to show anyone if he had a good side buried deep inside him. A good side that you were slowly getting to.

One day that looked exactly like the one before in the underworld, and you couldn't tell if it was day or night, King took you for a walk. That was mostly because you kept pestering him with questions about what it was like outside the castle walls.

The main reason the King refused to let you out was because once a mortal touched the land of the underworld, they could no longer return to the world of the living.

However, the marble floor of the castle didn't apply, which was actually fortunate for you, or you would have been stuck there from the start.

Another reason was his reputation, where as mentioned he didn't want to be seen with a mortal in the underworld. You couldn't even imagine the commotion he said it would cause.

Eventually, however, you convinced him and he agreed to a little walk. Before you set off, however, he gave you a small silver tiara to disguise you and hide your origins. It disguised your mortal origins.

You reached the main gate of the castle when, without any warning, the King took you around the waist like a rag doll and sat you on his shoulder. You were very daring, but you never dreamed of this.

You walked out like that and everyone who saw you got out of the way. You felt like you were at a carnival, and you almost fell off his shoulder as you looked around and took in all the impressions. The underworld may have seemed monotonous, but there was still plenty for you to see. Everything there looked completely different.

It was a relatively short walk, however, as King had long strides that took you to a lonely hill where a single tree towered, its blossoms and leaves reminding you of the northern lights, flickering in the wind.

There was a large picnic blanket spread out right under the tree, with a plate of fresh sashimi that King had had brought to you from the mortal world. Food from the underworld was subject to the same rules as the land.

You thought you'd finally see his face, but he refused to eat. He said it was his favorite food, but he refused to let anyone see him out of the corner of their eye without his mask. And even though you were the only one eating that day, you enjoyed it.

As you sat there, you realized how cold a place the underworld actually was. There was no sun shining anywhere, so there was nothing to keep the place warm. You started to shiver slightly under the tree, but you didn't want to say anything. You didn't want to appear weak.

You were sitting next to King when his wings moved and suddenly you had one wing resting on your shoulder, like a blanket thrown over you. His feathers, though black as night, were soft as fluff and pleasantly warm.

You were about to thank him when he took you around the waist and sat you on his lap. His wings then completely enveloped you like a nice feather bed.

You were putting the finishing touches on the statue when the lights in the room dimmed and a fiery portal appeared on the floor. You heard only the rustle of feathers before Alber appeared in the studio.

Truthfully, you hadn't expected this, as you had only visited him so far, and this was the second time he had been to your home. King walked over to you, greeting you as his gaze fell on the statue. It had been almost perfectly repaired since your first meeting, and only a few details were left to be tweaked. He walked around it, giving you a moment for a job well done.

"I have to admit, it doesn't look bad. Almost as good as it was thousands of years ago," he said, looking at you. "Maybe... maybe you could adjust my mask," he added, and you got the impression he meant the mask on the statue.

You nodded in annoyance at that, since you didn't like being told to get to work. You had no idea, however, that King had closed all the windows and doors in the room so that not an inch of sunlight could penetrate.

After making sure you couldn't see in, he took off his mask, revealing snow-white hair, tanned skin, and a tattoo around his left eye that resembled an olive branch. You couldn't take your eyes off him and felt like your chin had involuntarily dropped.

Alber saw your reaction and grinned smugly. He saw how you couldn't take your big eyes off him and what a shock it was to you. You couldn't even form a sentence.

He walked over to you and got down on one knee. Before you could ask him what he wanted to do, he took your cheeks and kissed you. At that moment, you thought your heart would leap out of your chest and you closed your eyes in sheer bliss as it reminded you of the dreams you had of him now and then.

"I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do this. I feel like even though I don't want to, you mean more and more to me," he whispered as he finally pulled away slightly. His hands were still on your cheeks, his forehead resting against yours. At that moment, you ran out of words.

One Piece Masterlist

#one piece #monster piece #one piece x reader #king one piece #alber one piece #king x reader #alber x reader

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loriannbowman · 1 year ago

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Honkai: Star Rail X Arknights | Yandere!Sunday X Sankta!Reader

You had no idea how you got to this city of bright lights and sounds. Music seems to pour in from every corner and building. The last thing you remember, is Doctor Loriann sent you to the rec-room and you decided to take a little nap. And now you're 'awake' in this bizarre and unknown city. What seems like thousands of people swarm the streets. Just where the hell are you?

"Excuse me? Are you lost?~" a sweet voice asks you.

You whip your head around to see a man with a halo... and wings sprouting from his head? Sankta have wings, yes, but never from their head... At least not the ones you've met, and you've met quite a few.

"U-Um... Y-Yeah..." you stutter out, unsure if talking to a stranger in a strange place is the best idea.

He looks at you, focusing his gaze on you. You can almost feel the deep set eyes burning into your soul.

"U-Uh... S-Sir...? Why are you-"

His stare grows harder before he looks away, letting out a sigh.

"Are you not a Halovian?"

"Ha-what? Is that some different title for a Sankta?"

"Sankta...?" he whispers under his breath. "You have a halo."

"Y-Yeah... I do..."

"So are you not a Halovian?"

"No."

His eyes seem to sharpen and a small scowl crosses his body.

He steps closer to you. You have no idea what he plans to do until-

He reaches out and touches your halo. You can't help but yelp at the cool touch from his gloved hands.

"So you can feel my touch."

You swat his hand.

"Of course I can!"

"Interesting..."

You push his away, trying to make space.

"A-Anyway, sir, do you know where I am?"

The man tilts his head confused.

"You're in Penacony."

"Pena-wha-? What's with all these names?! Never mind... D-Do you know how I got here?"

"... Did you not enter a dream pool?"

"Dream pool?! Are you-" you shake your head, now is not the time to be rude to someone, "No, no I didn't. The last thing I remember was being on the Rhodes Island Land Ship and going to take a nap."

"Rhodes Island...? I've never heard of that."

"What? Even very secluded people know of Rhodes Island..."

The man hums slightly.

"Interesting... it seems as though... we have a stowaway..."

"Stowaway?! I didn't even mean to come here!"

"Yes, I can clearly see that, however I still need to take you into custody for the protection of the Family and the citizens of Penacony. Though, as a head of the Family myself, I will be taking you with me. It's best if no one else knows of this, it might cause anxiety amongst the people."

"So I'm getting arrested... cool. Doctor, when I get back, you're getting kicked."

❥ Sunday doesn't understand how or why you got here. He monitors the coming and going of every person that enters the dreamscape, and the reverie.

❥ Sunday is confused. He tried to communicate with you through telepathy to keep the conversation privet, yet... you couldn't connect to him.

❥ Sunday keeps you under custody. That custody, however, his by his side at all times. He wants to understand what is with you.

❥ Sunday, who's every thought is slowing shifting to figuring you out. How did you come here? Where are you from? Why do you also have a halo? Why do you know nothing of Aeons and Paths?

❥ Sunday who can't help but itch wanting to pick you apart.

❥ Sunday who doesn't want to let you go, because if you do, he fears he may never see you again, he may never figure out this mystery.

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dakusan · 18 days ago

Note

I couldn’t resist coming back, so I’ve crawled back out of my hole in the floor. I’ve got a more complicated question this time. With vampire!skz, are any of them religious? Do vampires in your world have a sort of religion? Or are they nihilistic, absurdists, hedonists? Maybe a mix? Or do they just not mess with religion since the abnormals are the ‘gods’ so to speak? Speaking of which, how would they react to a blood doll who’s religious? Like pagan or wiccan? With morbid thoughts and shyness. - 💚

oh look who slithered back through the floorboards 👀 welcome home, 💚. and oof—you didn't just ask a question... you cracked open the forbidden library. religion in the vampire!SKZ world? let's get into it.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

✦ A r e t h e y R e l i g i o u s ?

depends on the vampire. but none of the Abnormals follow human religion.

why?

because in this world, the Abnormals are the fallen myths. “gods made wrong.” the stories humans wrote? twisted echoes of creatures that already walked the earth. they were never angels. never demons. just born monsters wearing halos stolen from the dead.

so no, they don't "pray." they remember. they carry rituals, obsessions, and symbols from the bloodline like trauma in the bone marrow.

some are hedonists. some are ascetics. some are straight-up nihilistic kings and queens who laugh at the idea of divine order.

but none of them bow.

✦ A r e a n y o f t h e S K Z v a m p s r e l i g i o u s ?

honestly? here's the rundown:

Chan: no religion. Abnormal to his core. But he's ritualistic as hell. His control is sacred, his empire is gospel, and he treats his soulmate like a holy relic. You want divinity? It's in his obsession.

Minho: closest to belief—in vengeance. He follows blood-oaths like scripture. Think: ancient rites, ceremonial precision. Not "God," but something older and quieter.

Changbin: total absurdist. He knows none of it makes sense and doesn't care. His truth is in pleasure, power, and control.

Hyunjin: spiritual, artistic, but not religious. He feels the divine in beauty and suffering, not structure. He'd light candles to feels something.

Jisung: dark humour nihilist. Probably once believed in something and it broke him. Now he just bites first and overthinks later.

Feix: if anyone has remnant faith, it's him. He has a strange purity under all that chaos. He might believe in souls, fate, maybe even redemption. But it's private.

Seungmin: atheist realist. Doesn't fuck with delusion. But might ironically quote Bible versed while covered in blood just to scare people.

Jeongin: doesn't know what he believes yet. He's still changing, still awakening. But he dreams of fire and wings—so something's buried deep.

✦ W h a t i f t h e i r b l o o d d o l l i s r e l i g i o u s ?

OH, now we're talking. a pagan or wiccan blood doll? a quiet soul with morbid thoughts and shy hands, whispering prayers to the moon while marked by a creature that drinks her?

they'd be fascinated. obsessed. confused. reverent.

Chan would treat your rituals with eerie respect. He wouldn't believe, but he'd learn them—memorise every symbol you draw in salt. You'd wake up with spell candles lit and your altar perfectly cleaned.

Minho might test you. Offer you his blood in a chalice and ask, "is this sacred to you?"

Changbin while he doesn't believe in anything—especially not gods. But he won't mock you. Your faith confuses him. Intrigues him. He doesn't get it—but the way you believe? That he'll devour.

Hyunjin would paint you in your own sigils. Ask if your gods know his name. Try to kiss salvation off your tongue.

Jisung would tease, then catch himself when your prayers make his chest ache.

Felix might genuinely try to understand. Quietly read your texts while curled up behind you, asking soft questions like "what does this protect you from?"

Seungmin would smirk, call it witchy nonsense—then kill anyone who disrespects you.

Jeongin would believe in whatever you believe in—because you believe in it. Because you hold something he can't name.

to them, your faith isn't a joke. it's intimate. strange. sacred in its vulnerability. even if they don't share it, they'd treat it like they treat your blood: personal. untouchable. theirs.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

💚, you lit the fire in the chapel with this one. if you keep crawling out of that floorboard, i will start leaving offerings for you.

come again, love you 💋🦇

#ask dakusan #stray kids #skz imagines #vampire!skz lore #vampire!skz series

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circeyoru · 1 year ago

Note

(UNWANTED SOUL idea) when reader gets turned to an angle instead of being stuck in heaven they immediately return via their page teleportation. So no angsty alastor for more than 5 min. But they teleported right behind Adam and we're the one to kill him much to alastors delight and everyone else's confusion.

Later on alastor is learning to take care of the readers wings since reader forgets they have them and let's them fall to disreapare.

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}. *Check the redeem you ones

Okay, no angst. Err... Maybe a bit, just a touch

I'll bet that Alastor was crushed when he saw you disappear into thin air. Not the type where you teleport elsewhere to avoid him, but actually disappear, gone, dead. When his soul was returned to him and his limitations all gone. He wrathfully unleashed at Adam.

Somehow I feel like Alastor using his full power will have massive pressure and tension built the closer one's to him. Within that less than 5 minutes, let's say Alastor singlehandedly got the barrier up again and slaughtered any and all angels that come into his perimeter. Charlie and the others all felt the surge in Alastor's power and pressure, immediately heading towards him to see what was happening since their stations were all cleared thanks to Alastor.

To counter Alastor, Adam used more power as well. In the end, Alastor was still no match but unlike in the show, he doesn't back down because you were gone. In his mind, that memory kept replaying, there was two option for him: either kill Adam or die trying.

When the Charlie and the other made it to Alastor's battlefield, they shouted for him to stop and retreat because he was at a disadvantage the more he fights. He was clearly losing that charisma he had at the start of the battle.

"Stay out of this, Charlie." Alastor threatened the moment he saw her step closer.

Adam laughed, "Aww, did I kill your little crush? Too bad. Demons like you don't deserve happiness."

Charlie and the others all wondered what Adam was talking about; Alastor was obviously triggered again as he headfirst into Adam for another more personal attack. An obvious trap that cornered Alastor.

With his axe positioned to Alastor's neck, Adam stared down with a victorious grin, "Time to meet your little babe, right?"

Alastor let down his barrier, he couldn't explain why, but he just did it. Like a voice told him so or a feeling of a familiar presence.

The moment he did, the abandoned book you always bring around opened itself and the pages flew at Adam. Confusing him. He backed up and away from Alastor, trying to swat away the pages that were coming at him like mad.

A new figure emerged, two pairs of silver wings and a bright halo was the only thing Alastor could see. Though his sight was more focused on the way one of the pages sliced Adam's head off of his neck like butter. Alastor's red eyes followed the rolling head and falling body. With a tired back, he looked up at the figure.

"My... Dar....ling?"

"Yes, Alastor." You stepped closer to him, your pages fluttering around like harmless petals now, you kneeled down and gave him a hug as gently as possible to not put pressure on his pain.

"You're... back..." Alastor wrapped his hands around you to bring him closer to you, his body shook. "Am I... Is this... a dre...am?"

Your wings instinctively wrapped around him, glowing as they healed your wounded love. For the brief moment you had your new angelic powers, you were already using them like you had him your entire life. "No, Alastor. It's not a dream."

"Stay with me... Don't leave... me..."

You smiled, "I won't, Alastor. I'll miss you too much."

-------

Yes! An exact echo. Remember how in part 2 (I think) you tell him you missed him before entering your slumber mode? Yeah, it's happening here too.

The reason why I gave Reader/you two pairs of wings here is cause it shows power and authority. If you're not trapped as long as you were before, then something has to change, and that is your power and authority over the exterminations or specifically portal to Hell. Here, you're an angel that controls the entrance to Heaven and Hell. Think guardian, like that~

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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micksture · 11 months ago

Text

hello i’m back on the grind and today i bring you the fullbody refs i nearly did a backflip over 🌞 hope you’ll like em

notes under the cut

CHARLIE

- Former Princess of Hell. She resigned from her role and place in the royal home because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to fulfill her dream of redeeming Sinners. Her parents had different plans and expectations for her, and deem her as an embarrassment. Charlie lived in a dingy apartment and worked a couple of jobs for a few years to gather money. She struggled, but she finally earned enough to afford an empty, run down building. At the start, she and the gang will have to start rebuilding and renovating it to make the hotel she planned to build :p

- More goat motifs (ears, nose, horns, pupils, legs and hooves)

- Doll-like joints, which make her movements awkward and robotic at times

- Fangs and buck teeth <3

- Fluffy, puffy hair!!! The color is a mix of Lucifer’s hair back when he was still an angel (golden) and the hair he has now, after falling (red)

- One snake on each side of her head. Both of them are different species and have different personalities. They’re also super venomous, but she doesn’t rlly use that ability

- A mole under her left eye because I just couldn’t help myself hehe

- Tail that she can’t retract and has all the time. It’s a bit too short and just bothers her most of the time by accidentally knocking stuff over

- A blue ‘blouse’ (it’s actually a long sleeve top with buttons printed onto it, kinda like those silly faux tuxedo t-shirts) and shoes with accents of the same color, as any variant of blue is a vital part of the very loose dress code for the hotel’s workers. She also wears blue earrings and always adds a bit of blue to her makeup :3

- Other than that I think her outfit is pretty much similar? At least to the Pilot one

- I tried to sneak in some hearts to her design and just overall make her look friendly and awkward lolz

VANHI

- Former Exorcist angel. She gained consciousness during an extermination and was discarded solely because of that fact. Exorcists are programmed to be killing machines that feel nothing and don’t ask questions, so when they gain consciousness (which is very rare), their higher ups – so Lute and Adam – get rid of them. Vanhi was found by Charlie two days later, miraculously still alive. Charlie rushed her back to her apartment and slowly nursed her back to health, recognising her as an angel, but not an Exorcist. They’ve known each other for 3 yrs now, and they took some time to grow fond of each other but they’re getting there

- Obviously, the name change… She did used to be called Vaggie (when she was still an angel), changed it after being banished from the holy troops and left behind in Hell

- STRRRONG 💪💪💪💪 probs the strongest one out of the main six characters, at least physically

- Lots of scars all over her body from previous battles

- Long teased hair put up in a high ponytail for practical reasons. The black tips are dyed. Also RACOON TAIL!!!!!!!!

- Some moth motifs, like the antennas that mimic a bow and also her hair kinda resembles the wings of a moth when it is down.

- A funky ahoge (I think that’s what it’s called..) that looks like a halo :3

- A different eyepatch + protective gloves

- She wears a pink and white striped pullover under her blue shirt and she also has mismatched socks 👾

- Angelic spear, obvi.. its’ handle is a little bent in the middle, because Adam tried to snap it in half for dramatic effect and failed LMFAOJEBW BOZO

ANGEL DUST

- He’s a famous pornstar under Valentino’s contract, and he has been for some time now. Before that, he’d perform in clubs

- Lots of Valentino’s influence in his choice of clothing: shorts, boots, the black top, pink gloves + fur scarf, rings and the collar. The only thing that wasn’t gifted to him by the overlord is the pinstriped shirt and hat that he’s had since the very arrival in Hell. ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FRIEND FOR THIS IDEA: the buttons on his suit are little flies because he’s a spider!!!!!!

- Six eyes, four arms (but he can also grow out two more), pedipalps and abdomen to rlly play into the spider theme

- His teeth are stained with Val’s red saliva

- He has lots of toned pink spots all over his body. I couldn’t rlly decide on an exact design for his markings and I felt like there was already a lot happening on him so I just went with little pink speckles

- Very fluffy :v

ALASTOR

- Powerful Overlord that came back from his seven years of radio silence to invest in the biggest flop of a project in Hell and stick around, seemingly just to laugh at its’ failure

- Toned down colors yay

- Long, pinstriped crimson suit worn over a beige dress shirt, 1930s inspired shoes (they still have the silly hoof prints on the bottom don’t worry) and a tie because I’m sick of the bazillion bowties 👿👿👿

- Voice box located between the top of the knot of his tie and the bottom of his high neck ruff. He often uses it to speak without moving his mouth

- The two sharp ridges that peek from under his neck ruff and have a white glow to them are actually a part of a collar. He’s forced to wear it because of his deal. It’s made of angelic metal, so he can’t really take it off anyway

- For the deer features, I changed his ears to be a little more deer-like, made his antlers bigger and gave him a deer nose :p He has a tail and hooves too but he hides them as much as possible

- No fuckass bob 🙏

- Couldn’t help myself and gave him a pencil mustache 🕴️

- Staff inspired by a 1930s microphone. It can be shortened to a regular mic or expanded to work as a cane!! It's a sentient being and it often adds to situations/conversations by playing sound effects. And yes it does have tiny antlers hehe

- Different monocle

- Some green accents because his magic is green idk

HUSK

-A former Overlord, long past his prime. His enjoyment of Alastor’s 7 year absence was short lived – now, he has to deal with even more annoying people in the hotel. He works the bar and because of Charlie’s request he’s allowed to only fix up mocktails instead of real alcoholic drinks

- Based his design on a mainecoon cat, so he’s super fluffy. Lots and lots of fur, which is unkempt because he gave up on trying to care for it a while ago

- Owl wings. His right wing is clipped (because of the deal with Alastor) and he can no longer fly. He can’t even expand this wing to its’ full length without having to painfully strain it to get it to move out even a little bit

- boy why u so eyebrow…….

- I live for chubby Husk <3

- A bunch of scars

- A rough beard and a droopy mustache

- A stained, patterned blue shirt with rolled up sleeves and a missed button at the top, tiny magician hat, black pants + suspenders and a green cloth to wipe empty glasses

- Give this poor man a break…

NIFFTY

- Used to work at a tailor shop and one day, she came across Alastor when he went in to get his suit fixed after a fight. Rather than being presented with a deal offer, she offered her soul to him herself. He agreed, of course, but he was so weirded out by this that he decided to spare her life to further observe her antics. They’ve grown fond of each other and now have a father-daughter relationship of sorts

- I rlly leaned into the idea of her being a bug… She’s a grasshopper/ant mix, so she has antennae and mandibles

- Fluffy, glowy hair that she curls with hair rollers every day

- Green eye (same shade as her dress)

- Freckles :3

- Big patterned dress, a matching head scarf, blue apron and blue cleaning gloves

#hazbin redesign #hazbin hotel redesign #my art #artists on tumblr #hazbin hotel #hazbin #digital art #art

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rainforestakiie · 9 months ago

Text

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Temperature Play~

i am not sure if this counts as temperature play? but i hope it is good enough. i could go into such a long detailed au idea with this? i have had it on my mind for some time now. so happy i got to write it!

@adamsappleweek

It was a sultry night, the kind that seemed to wrap itself around you like a velvet cloak, suffocating yet oddly seductive. Adam lay sprawled on his bed, the thin, oversized grey t-shirt clinging to his skin. He had long since kicked the quilt aside, now laying exposed, one hand draped over his belly while the other hung limply near his head. His window gaped open, yet no breeze dared enter, leaving the heavy air inside stagnant, thick as molasses. He grumbled in his sleep, his body shifting restlessly, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. His lips parted with a soft hum, eyelids fluttering as though he might wake, only to sink deeper into his dreams.

Something felt off. The atmosphere in his room was dense, as though the very air was conspiring against him. The heat swelled, enveloping him, sticky and unbearable, forcing his body to react with beads of sweat along his chest and neck. Then, just as suddenly, a chill slithered into the room, wrapping itself around him like an icy whisper. His body reacted instinctively—he shivered, curling into himself, searching blindly for the warmth of his blanket.

But when his fingers grasped at the soft fabric, it didn't move. Confused, Adam tugged again, harder this time, his brows knitting together as something—no, someone—giggled softly in the darkness. His heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t possible. He lived alone. His fingers tightened around the fabric, pulling it towards him with a desperate strength, but it resisted, stuck in place.

That same giggle again, light and playful, echoed in his ears, sending an uneasy thrill down his spine. His eyes snapped open, blearily adjusting to the dimness of the room, his breath catching in his throat. Coldness seeped into his bones as realization dawned. Someone—something—was in his bed. His emerald eyes widened, his pulse quickening, each thud reverberating in his ears like a drum. Slowly, his gaze drifted upward, and he nearly choked on his breath.

Hovering above him, poised on all fours, was a figure that seemed to shimmer in the pale moonlight filtering through the open window. Their blue eyes sparkled mischievously, a wicked smile curling on lips that were as red and plump as ripe cherries. Golden curls framed their delicate, almost ethereal face, with a white top hat perched jauntily atop their head. And behind them, something flapped, slow and deliberate—a sound too soft to be threatening, yet undeniably unnatural.

Adam’s heart stuttered, his mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. He jerked backward, limbs flailing as he scrambled off the bed, his foot catching the edge of the mattress as he tumbled gracelessly to the floor. His skull thudded against the hardwood with a dull crack, but the sharp pain did little to cut through his shock.

"Adam...,” the voice cooed cutely. “What are you doing down there?”

Adam’s breath hitched as he looked up at the figure now perched on the bed, wings lazily stretching behind them. Six glorious, feathered wings, their soft white edges tinged with an otherworldly blue, shimmered as they caught the faintest light. The person before him—no, creature—glowed, their alabaster skin glittering with an almost divine radiance, their rosy cheeks giving them an air of innocence that sharply contrasted with the suggestive smirk tugging at the corner of their lips.

Adam's chest heaved as his gaze swept over the figure, taking in their flowing white and blue robes that had pooled on his bed—his bed, which he had thought was his blanket. A wave of light-headedness washed over him as his eyes traced the wings again, disbelieving. The halo, faint but unmistakable, floated lazily above their head, sparkling like the stars that now seemed much too far away from the chaos unfolding in his room.

"Adam,” the figure spoke again, their tone laced with amusement, as they plucked a stuffed lion from Adam’s nightstand. “What is this place? And how did you end up here?”

The creature's curiosity seemed genuine, their blue eyes sparkling with a childlike wonder as they turned the plush toy over in their delicate hands. Adam’s throat tightened—how did they know his name? Panic clawed at him, his mind racing for an explanation, any explanation that could make sense of what was happening. His lips parted, but no words came out. He could only stare, wide-eyed and trembling, at the impossible being before him.

But then, something shifted.

The temperature in the room skyrocketed again, oppressive and suffocating, like the heat of an inferno suddenly filling the space. Adam instinctively recoiled, his back slamming against something—someone—solid. The sensation that ran through him was unlike anything he’d felt before, a scorching heat that coiled up his spine, pooling deep in his core. He froze, too terrified to turn around, every muscle in his body tensing as another presence made itself known.

This one wasn’t laughing.

Slowly, Adam forced himself to tilt his head upward, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he found himself staring into another pair of eyes—yellow sclera, slit pupils glowing red, framed by short blonde hair slicked back in a sharp ducktail. This one exuded an aura of pure, simmering annoyance, his expression tight and unimpressed as his sharp black eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. His tongue, forked like a serpent’s, flicked out briefly as he gazed down at Adam, a smirk playing on his lips, though far less playful than the first.

"Adam, what the hell are you playing at now?" the second figure grumbled, his voice dripping with disdain.

Adam’s mind reeled. He opened and shut his mouth, unable to form coherent words. Stalkers? Burglars? Murderers in strange costumes? What kind of twisted nightmare had he stumbled into? Yet the truth shimmered in front of him, undeniable and terrifying. These weren’t ordinary men—they weren’t even human.

With a sinking realization, Adam knew there would be no waking up from this dream.

The two blondes faced each other, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. The one with wings, draped in robes as white as freshly fallen snow, had an innocent air about him, as if he'd never known a harsh word in his life. His wide blue eyes blinked softly, curious and sweet, like a child discovering something new. The other, however, was a completely different story. His expression was hard, his eyes glowing with a simmering fury that made Adam's heart race with fear. His features, though sharp and striking, were twisted with bitterness, an anger that seemed almost too big to contain. The contrast between the two made Adam want to scream—or cry.

Adam swallowed thickly, his pulse thundering in his ears. Who were these two? What did they want with him? And more terrifyingly—why did they seem to know him?

"Adam," the bitter one hissed, his voice low and dangerous, snapping Adam out of his spiraling thoughts. The man’s gaze, sharp as a blade, locked onto Adam, making him freeze like prey caught in the sights of a predator. "What the fuck did you do?"

Adam felt the blood drain from his face as the anger in the man’s words hit him. His lips parted in shock, but no sound came out. He couldn’t breathe, let alone answer. The accusing look on the man’s cherry-red face only deepened, his expression so terrifying that Adam genuinely considered running, even if he didn’t know where.

The winged blonde, however, seemed far less hostile. His sweet face creased with worry as his eyes flickered between the two of them, confusion and concern painting his features. "A-Adam?" he stammered softly, his voice light and airy, like a gentle breeze. "What’s going on? Who is this? Do you know him?"

Adam's gaze darted between the two men, his throat tightening. He opened his mouth, desperate to find words, but before he could make a sound, the angry blonde turned on him again, eyes blazing like hot coals.

"Adam!" The venom in his voice was undeniable, laced with frustration and something deeper, something more personal. "Stop sitting there like a headless fucking duck and explain what type of fucked up shit you’ve pulled now! I do not have time for this. My daughter needs me, and I’ve still got to clean up your shit!"

The sharpness of the man’s words cut into Adam, causing him to flinch. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, but before the bitter blonde could say anything more, the angelic figure at his side stirred, his wings flaring slightly as if in irritation. He crossed his arms, and despite his innocent face, there was a certain firmness to his stance that Adam hadn’t noticed before.

"Don’t talk to him like that," the angelic blonde huffed, his voice soft but laced with quiet defiance.

The other man blinked in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up as he turned to glare at the angelic figure, incredulity flashing across his face.

"Excuse me?" he growled, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"You heard me," the winged blonde said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Don’t speak to Adam like that. I don’t know who you are or what you're so angry about, but don’t take it out on him. He’s done nothing wrong."

For a moment, the room fell into a tense, suffocating silence. The two men stared each other down, the air crackling with unspoken animosity. The suited blonde’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he took in the angel’s words. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter. But it wasn’t the light, amused kind—it was bitter, dark, laced with cruel amusement.

"Nothing wrong?" he cackled, throwing his head back as if the very idea was absurd. "You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?"

The angelic blonde bristled, his wings twitching in irritation. "What do you mean?"

The suited man’s eyes flashed as his laughter died down, his sneer returning full force.

"From the moment Adam was created in Eden, he’s been trouble," the man spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Causing problems, hurting others—he’s a narcissist."

Adam’s jaw dropped, disbelief crashing over him like a tidal wave.

"A narcissist?" he echoed, the accusation so absurd it knocked the breath out of him. His confusion was swiftly replaced by anger—burning, unrelenting anger. Who did this freak think he was? Adam wasn’t perfect, but a narcissist?

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Adam shot back, his voice finally finding strength, though it wavered with the force of his frustration. He pushed himself to his feet, squaring his shoulders as he glared up at the man. "You barge into my home, throw around accusations like you know me—what gives you the right?"

The suited man’s lips curled into a dark, predatory smile.

"Who am I? Oh, Adam...*" His voice dipped low, almost seductive in its mockery, the sound of it sending a shiver down Adam’s spine. "I think you already know the answer to that."

Adam’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he stared at the man in the immaculate white and red suit. Something in his eyes gleamed with dark intent, and the heat in the room seemed to spike again, pressing against Adam like a heavy weight.

The angel, sensing the shift in mood, stepped closer to Adam, his wings stretching protectively, their soft feathers brushing against Adam’s back.

"Don’t listen to him," the angel whispered, his voice soothing, a balm against the rising panic in Adam’s chest. "He’s trying to scare you."

Adam’s head spun. He didn’t know who to believe. The angel’s touch was calming, grounding even, but the bitter blonde’s words dug deep, planting seeds of doubt. Why did this man speak like he knew him intimately, like he held some dark secret over him?

"Adam," the suited blonde purred, taking a slow step forward. "You’ve always been a thorn in my side. But I’m here to help, truly. All you need to do..."

His snake-like eyes gleamed as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper, "...is stop playing around."

Adam’s pulse quickened, the heat rising within him, a dangerous warmth curling through his body. Something about the way the man said it, the promise hidden beneath the surface, sent an involuntary thrill through him. He should run—he knew that. But the man’s eyes... they held something darkly captivating, something tempting.

"Don’t," the angel warned, his voice urgent, wings pulling Adam closer. "Don’t listen to him, Adam. Stay with me."

And there it was—an impossible choice, suspended between two beings that seemed to know far more about Adam than he knew about himself. Seduced by danger, tempted by salvation. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as the heat and cold warred inside him, both figures waiting, watching, poised for his answer.

The two blondes stood there, like mirror images twisted by different fates, their glaring contrasts only making the room feel smaller, more suffocating. The angry one sneered, rolling his eyes in irritation, while the sweeter one looked on with wide, pleading eyes, his wings twitching slightly in agitation.

"Adam, I swear to everything holy," the angry blonde growled, his voice laced with frustration.

"Stop fucking around! I’m tired of your games, and my patience is running on fumes." His eyes flicked over Adam with a look that could freeze the sun, full of disbelief and simmering contempt. "You think I’m here for a chat? No, you little nuisance—I'm here because I have to clean up your mess again."

The sweeter blonde gasped softly, his wings flaring protectively as he stepped in closer to Adam.

"Stop picking on him!" he huffed, arms crossing over his chest as his blue eyes narrowed at his counterpart. "Adam hasn’t done anything to hurt you—he couldn’t. It’s not in his nature."

The angry blonde scoffed, letting out a sharp bark of laughter that echoed in the heated room. "No idea what type of person Adam is, do you? You think just because he looks all innocent and lost, he’s incapable of screwing things up? You’re delusional."

"Of course, I know!" the sweeter one insisted, his voice rising in a rare show of assertiveness. "I was there the moment he was born."

The bitter blonde's eyes rolled so hard Adam half-expected them to get stuck in the back of his head. "Yeah? Well, so was I. And trust me, he’s turned out far worse than you could ever imagine."

That struck a nerve in the sweet one. His usually calm face flushed with anger, his wings trembling slightly.

"Adam is more precious than anything! How could you say that?" His voice was firm, a surprising bite to his words as he stepped forward, shielding Adam even more.

"Precious?" The angry one let out a dry laugh, his face twisted with mockery. "You’ve been blinded by his puppy-dog eyes. He’s not as innocent as you think, and I’m done pretending otherwise."

The argument escalated, the two of them bickering like opposing forces of nature, one filled with molten anger and the other with a saccharine sweetness that was slowly beginning to curdle. Adam’s head began to throb, a dull pain blooming behind his eyes as their voices grew louder, clashing like thunder in his skull.

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his temples in a futile attempt to stave off the headache that was building, pulsing with each harsh word thrown between the two men. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension, the room growing too hot, too cold, too everything all at once.

"Adam," the angry blonde growled, his patience officially snapping. Before Adam could register what was happening, a cold, clawed hand grabbed his shoulder with a grip that was too strong, too possessive, yanking him toward the angry blonde.

"I’m really losing my patience now. Enough’s enough." His voice was dangerously low, laced with a threat that sent a shiver down Adam’s spine. "You’ve been playing dumb for too long, and I’m not dealing with this any longer."

Before Adam could even blink, the sweet blonde's wings flared dramatically as he puffed his cheeks out in indignation.

"Don’t touch him!" he cried, his voice rising with rare intensity. With a swift, fluid motion, he yanked Adam back towards him, his soft hands almost comforting as they wrapped around Adam’s arm, pulling him into his embrace.

"Adam, it’s okay," he murmured sweetly, his voice a soothing balm to the chaos. "I’m not mad. Just tell me what you did."

The angry blonde's jaw dropped in sheer disbelief, his eyes widening in outrage.

"What the hell are you talking about? No! Adam, you listen to me," he snapped, pulling Adam back to his side, his grip tight and possessive once more. "You know better than to listen to this featherbrained idiot. You need to tell me what the hell you did so I can fix it!"

Adam, caught between the two of them like a rag doll, blinked rapidly, his mind spinning. The headache was blinding now, each tug and yank making it worse, like the inside of his skull was about to explode.

"I—" he tried to say something, anything, but the words died in his throat.

The sweet blonde’s grip tightened, his feathers rustling as he pulled Adam close again, this time wrapping his wings around him protectively.

"Don’t worry, Adam," he cooed softly, glaring at the other blonde. "You don’t need to explain anything to him. You’re safe with me."

"Safe?" the angry blonde sneered, yanking Adam back once more. "He’s never safe, not with the kind of trouble he brings. Stop coddling him like some pathetic baby bird and let him take responsibility."

Adam’s head spun, his body jerking back and forth between them as they continued their tug-of-war, each of them vying for his attention, for his confession, for something he didn’t even understand himself. The air around them grew thick with tension, the heat pulsing through the room in waves as both of their grips tightened, neither willing to let go.

"He’s precious," the sweet one insisted, his voice soft but firm.

"He’s a menace," the other growled, eyes burning with frustration.

"He’s innocent."

"He’s guilty as fuck."

Adam’s breath hitched, his vision blurring as the headache turned into a full-blown storm inside his skull. He couldn’t take it anymore—the arguing, the pulling, the accusations. It was too much.

"Stop! Just stop!" Adam finally yelled, breaking free from both and stumbling back, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. "I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t know who you are or what you want from me, but just... stop fighting!"

The room fell eerily silent, both blondes staring at him, their faces unreadable.

Adam inhaled sharply, stumbling back while glaring at the two ethereal blondes. His heart raced, half with confusion, half with exasperation.

"Oh my God, who the hell are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with both fear and irritation.

The two blond men exchanged confused glances, their expressions mirroring each other in eerie synchronicity. For a moment, it seemed they might launch into another argument, but instead, they spoke in unison, their voices eerily harmonious.

"Adam, you know who I am... It’s me, Lucifer."

Adam’s breath hitched as he stared at them, his green eyes widening as both men mirrored each other’s shock. Their faces morphed from surprise to suspicion, both glaring at each other before speaking again at the exact same time.

"No, you're not. I'm Lucifer. You're the imposter!"

Adam groaned, rubbing his temples as the pounding in his head intensified.

"Neither of you are Lucifer!" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Because Lucifer has been living in my flat for the past six years!" He huffed, stomping across the room, his temper flaring. "The little fucking freeloader."

Both blondes turned to watch him, their identical gazes filled with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Adam could feel their eyes following him as he moved to the other side of the room, his jaw set with irritation. He bent down into what looked like a tower of plush toys, his fingers brushing through soft fur.

Straightening up, Adam held something in his arms, his expression a mix of defiance and possessiveness as he turned to face the two celestial beings.

"This," he said sharply, glaring at them, "Is Lucifer."

Cradled in Adam's arms was a small, fluffy snow-white Munchkin cat. The tiny creature purred contentedly, its long, elegant tail swaying lazily, and its sharp blue eyes locking onto the two stunned blondes. Adam felt a smug satisfaction as he held the cat protectively.

The angry blonde blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief as he whispered, "There's no way."

His red-and-yellow eyes darted around the flat, panic flickering across his face. He straightened, his normally composed facade cracking. With a snap of his clawed fingers, he tried to summon something—anything—but nothing happened. His face paled as a worried sound escaped him.

"No fucking way."

The angelic blonde tilted his head, a mischievous smile curling on his lips.

"Aw, are you trying to use your magic?” he teased, a soft, mocking lilt in his voice.

"Are you even sure you have magic?" His blue eyes twinkled with amusement as the angry one shot him a dark look.

"If you have magic," the angry blonde growled, "Then prove it. Open a portal. That's basic."

The angelic one snapped his fingers, his confident smirk almost too self-assured—until nothing happened. The smugness on his face slowly faded into concern as he snapped again, and again, growing more frantic with each failed attempt.

"Oh no..." he whispered, his eyes wide with panic.

The angry blonde groaned loudly, dragging his clawed hands down his face in utter frustration before he slumped onto the edge of Adam's bed.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with disbelief and exhaustion.

Adam, meanwhile, was stroking Lucifer’s soft white fur, the cat’s purring a soothing hum against the chaos unfolding around them. But then, with a subtle flick of his tail, Lucifer—the real Lucifer—decided to show off. A small, golden portal materialized out of thin air, and with a soft, almost musical sound, a handful of cat treats fell directly between the two blondes.

Both men stared down at the cat treats in stunned silence before slowly turning their gazes toward the tiny, smug-looking cat. Who was now purring louder than ever, clearly revelling in his triumph.

Adam’s face flushed as he shifted the purring bundle in his arms.

"Lucifer," he muttered, embarrassment tinging his voice, "You’ve got to stop stealing."

The Munchkin only purred louder, his blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

The angelic blonde stared at the cat, his wide blue eyes filled with shock as he swore softly, "Double fuck."

For a moment, the room hung in thick silence, both celestial beings coming to terms with the absurdity of the situation, their once-imposing presence now reduced to disbelief as they realized they had been outdone by a mischievous, magical cat.

~#~

A few hours later, Adam found himself sitting on the floor of his dimly lit bedroom, Lucifer—his tiny, mischievous, snow-white Munchkin—curled up possessively across his lap. The cat's long tail swirled lazily, brushing back and forth like a silent claim over his Adam. Every now and then, his sharp blue eyes flicked towards the two other Lucifers in the room, as if daring them to try and take Adam away.

The suited Lucifer paced back and forth like a restless predator, his sharp red-and-yellow eyes flashing with frustration, rubbing his chin as he muttered to himself, going over theories and half-formed ideas that made no sense to Adam. The wall behind him had turned into a chaotic mess—papers plastered across it in haphazard fashion, strange symbols and writing that seemed to shift and swirl in the dim light, impossible for Adam to make sense of. He didn’t even try anymore, his mind spinning as the two versions of Lucifer wrestled with the bizarre situation.

The angelic Lucifer sat slumped on Adam's bed, his pristine white wings drooping, the golden feathers no longer glowing as brightly. His head was bowed slightly, and his soft, ethereal glow seemed dimmed, as if the weight of all this was finally taking its toll on him. Every now and then, he would glance up, his blue eyes troubled, lips parted in silent contemplation.

"Okay," the suited Lucifer finally breathed out, his pacing slowing as he came to a stop. At least he no longer seemed as angry, though the tension in his body was palpable. "It seems we've both been pulled from our respective dimensions into this one."

The angelic Lucifer bit his bottom lip, glancing up at his counterpart.

"And you're... my future self?" His voice was soft, uncertain, as if the idea was still too strange to fully accept.

The suited Lucifer let out a sheepish sigh, nodding as he ruffled his hair beneath the top hat. "It's... a lot, I know."

Angel Lucifer shook his head, his blonde curls spilling over his forehead. "Others have whispered about time magic, but I never thought it could be real."

"I thought it was a myth too," the suited Lucifer agreed with a groan, running a claw through his hair, messing it up even more.

"But this seems to be more like dimension magic. Both you and I are from the same world—just... different times." He paused, his eyes flicking to the window, where the familiar city skyline looked disturbingly unfamiliar. "But this? This isn't our world."

Angel Lucifer nodded slowly, his wings rustling against the sheets. "Which is why we can’t use our magic... and..."

Their gazes both shifted, landing on the smug little Munchkin cat still nestled in Adam’s lap, purring contentedly. Adam, lost in his own world for a moment, was giggling as he swayed an abandoned apple-shaped staff in front of Lucifer, who swiped at it playfully, but never left his perch. It was as if the cat, despite his playful swatting, refused to leave Adam's side, like some possessive, all-knowing guardian.

The two humanoid Lucifers stared at their cat counterpart in disbelief.

The suited Lucifer, clearly exasperated, yanked off his top hat and ran a clawed hand through his hair again, thoroughly mussing it up.

"It seems the only one with magic here... is our cat-self," he muttered, sounding utterly defeated by the absurdity of it all.

Angel Lucifer tilted his head, his blue eyes softening as they landed on the purring ball of fur.

"Do you think he brought us here?" he asked, his voice tinged with wonder, as if he were seeing their cat-self in a whole new light.

Adam, who had been focused on Lucifer’s antics, looked up at that, his green eyes wide with curiosity. He chewed shyly on the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach at the way both versions of Lucifer were now staring at him with those intense, piercing eyes—eyes that seemed to see through to his very soul.

"Lucifer..." Adam hesitated, running his fingers through the soft fur of the purring cat, "He’s never moved anything bigger than himself before. Definitely not through dimensions. He... he steals toys and treats, but... nothing more than that."

The angelic Lucifer shifted closer, his wings brushing against the edge of the bed as he leaned forward.

"And yet..." he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, "Here we are. Pulled into your world by something or... someone."

The suited Lucifer, still standing with his arms crossed, narrowed his eyes at the cat.

"Maybe this version of Lucifer—our cat-self—has been holding back. Maybe he’s more powerful than we thought. After all..." He trailed off, eyeing the golden portal the cat had casually opened earlier.

Lucifer the cat, still purring, blinked slowly at his humanoid counterparts before letting out a soft, almost amused meow, as if to say, Of course I am.

Adam blushed, glancing down at his cat as if the thought of this tiny, fluffy creature holding such immense power was almost too much to believe. But... then again, the little furball had just opened a portal to retrieve his favourite treats, so perhaps anything was possible.

"I think," the suited Lucifer said, his voice taking on a seductive edge as he stepped closer to Adam, his yellow-and-red eyes gleaming in the low light, "We need to figure out how much power our little kitty really has."

Adam swallowed hard, his breath catching as the angelic Lucifer also inched closer, his bright blue eyes soft but curious, filled with an otherworldly warmth.

"It’s okay, Adam," he murmured soothingly, his wings gently fluttering. "We just need to know the truth."

Caught between two near-identical versions of Lucifer, Adam’s heart raced. The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension, and the warmth of the cat in his lap grounding him even as his mind spun.

What had he gotten himself into?

As the tension in the room thickened, the tiny Munchkin Lucifer, still sprawled possessively across Adam’s lap, narrowed his sharp blue eyes at his two humanoid counterparts, daring them to make a move. The moment the angelic Lucifer inched closer, wings twitching with excitement, the cat let out a low, warning hiss.

Both versions of Lucifer froze, completely taken aback by the sound.

"Whoa—" The angelic Lucifer pulled back slightly, wide-eyed.

His pouty lips pressed together as he looked down at the cat, his blue eyes filling with disappointment. "I just wanted to pet him..." he muttered, his voice soft and almost sulking, like a child who had been denied a treat.

The suited Lucifer, meanwhile, had already stopped dead in his tracks, his yellow-and-red eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Great," he growled, glaring at the fluffy ball of fur. "Our cat-self is a little tyrant."

His tone was sharp with irritation, but Adam couldn't help but notice the hint of grudging respect laced in his voice. Lucifer—whether in human form or cat form—was nothing if not powerful.

Adam, however, flushed a deep crimson as the attention turned to him once again. He let out a sheepish laugh, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck before returning his hand to run down Lucifer's soft back.

"It's okay, he's just... protective," Adam explained, trying to ease the tension. His fingers found the sweet spot just behind the cat's ear, and almost instantly, the Munchkin relaxed, letting out a pleased purr as his tail flicked back and forth lazily.

The suited Lucifer groaned, clearly exasperated, before flopping down onto the bed next to his angelic self. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his claws tapping against his biceps.

"Well, it looks like we’re stuck for now," he said, voice dripping with annoyance.

The angelic Lucifer turned to him; his large, innocent blue eyes wide with curiosity.

"Wait?" he asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

His suited counterpart hummed, nodding. "Yup. Looks like we have no choice but to wait... and hope our cat-self decides to send us back when he’s done being possessive."

He shot a withering glance at the smug, purring Munchkin, clearly unimpressed by the situation. "That little furball is more trouble than he's worth."

Angel Lucifer pouted, letting out a soft sigh. "I wanted to play with him too..."

His voice was tinged with disappointment, but his gaze flicked back to Adam and the tiny Lucifer curled up in his lap, curiosity still gleaming in his eyes.

Adam couldn't help but laugh, albeit a little awkwardly, as he glanced between the two versions of Lucifer sulking on his bed and the purring ball of fur in his lap.

"Well... he’s not usually this possessive," Adam offered weakly, scratching Lucifer’s chin. "Maybe he’s just... adjusting."

"Adjusting?" the suited Lucifer echoed, raising an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "He's acting like you're his personal property."

"I mean...," Adam stammered, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red as the implications of that statement sank in.

"Cats are possessive in general... but he’s sweet, really." He gave a nervous chuckle, feeling the weight of both sets of eyes on him now, each gaze intense in its own way.

The suited Lucifer sighed deeply, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Great. We’re at the mercy of a cat version of me." He closed his eyes, leaning back on the bed, defeated. "How did my life end up like this?"

Meanwhile, the angelic Lucifer was still watching the cat in fascination, his pout softening into a small, wistful smile.

"He really is cute though..." he murmured, his wings fluttering softly. "I can't believe that’s me."

"Don’t get too attached," the suited Lucifer grumbled. "He’s not as harmless as he looks."

Adam shifted awkwardly, his hand still petting the now entirely relaxed cat, who had settled even more deeply into his lap. "We just... give him time?"

The suited Lucifer groaned in response, but there was a resigned sort of acceptance in his posture. "Fine. We'll wait. But if we’re still stuck here by tomorrow, I’m bribing the little tyrant with all the catnip I can find."

Angel Lucifer giggled softly, leaning forward with his bright blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I’d like to see that," he teased, clearly entertained by the idea of his other self-trying to bargain with their cat-self.

Adam, feeling both amusement and exasperation bubbling up inside him, stroked the purring cat and muttered under his breath, "Please, just be nice for once.”

His Lucifer only rubbed back up against his hand in response.

Adam's eyes grew heavier with each passing minute, a slow yawn escaping his lips. He blinked, trying to fight off the fatigue creeping in, but it was no use. It was already very late, and the events of the day—dimension-hopping Lucifers, magic-wielding cats, and strange revelations—had drained him. Both Lucifers seemed to notice, their conversation fading as they turned their attention to him.

"You’re tired," the suited Lucifer said, his voice softer now, devoid of its earlier edge. He glanced at the small flat, his sharp gaze sweeping over the cramped space. "We should stop for the night."

Angel Lucifer nodded in agreement, his wings drooping slightly as though they too were weary.

"It is late," he added, his tone sweet and gentle. He watched Adam with a tenderness that made Adam feel like he was being cradled in that gaze alone.

Adam, clutching his beloved Munchkin, moved to stand, the cat’s soft body nestled possessively in his arms. He stood at the foot of his bed, blinking sleepily. Immediately, both Lucifers scrambled to their feet, realizing Adam needed his bed—and more importantly, wanted it.

The suited Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes shifting as he took in the small, cozy room again.

"I’ll sleep..." He trailed off, his gaze falling to the lack of any spare space. His lips twitched in mild discomfort.

"On the floor," he finished, clearly unenthusiastic about the idea but resigned to it.

Adam flushed, embarrassment creeping into his cheeks.

"This is it," he admitted shyly, his voice quiet. "There’s not really any more space than this."

The suited Lucifer gave a curt nod, accepting it with a soft sigh. "It’s fine. I’ll manage."

His eyes flicked to the floor, and with a tired groan, he agreed, "I’ll sleep here."

Angel Lucifer, however, pouted dramatically, his lips curving downward in disappointment. He glanced longingly at the bed, clearly wanting to curl up with Adam.

"But... I always snuggle with my Adam," he muttered softly, eyes wide with a puppy-like pleading look.

Adam glanced between them and then at the bed, thinking for a moment.

"We could share," he offered, feeling generous despite the cat now giving him the stink-eye. "You’re both kinda short. I think you’ll fit."

Before either Lucifer could argue, an indignant growl erupted from the small cat still cradled in Adam’s arms. Lucifer, the Munchkin, hissed at the mere suggestion, his fur puffing up in defiance.

Adam laughed, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Oh, come on," he chided softly, running his hand down the cat’s back to soothe him. "Don’t be like that. They’re our guests. It’s rude to make them sleep on the floor."

Angel Lucifer’s face lit up like a child at Christmas, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I want to sleep on the bed!" he declared, his wings perking up as though he’d just won a prize.

The suited Lucifer, on the other hand, looked far less enthused. He tugged at the collar of his jacket, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"I’ll... stick to the floor," he muttered, trying to appear indifferent, though it was clear the idea of sharing a bed made him uneasy. His eyes flicked to Adam, softening just a little. "But thank you... for the offer."

Adam smiled gently at him.

"It’s fine," he replied, stretching his arms out and setting his cat onto the bed. "The offer’s still there if you change your mind."

Munchkin Lucifer, however, was not pleased with this arrangement. He let out a protesting meow, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as his fur bristled. He flipped onto his back, ready to spring off the bed at a moment’s notice if Adam dared to leave him behind.

Angel Lucifer took a tentative step closer, his hands twitching with the desire to pet his cat-self. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he reached out, only for the Munchkin to hiss, swatting a paw in warning. Angel Lucifer’s hopeful expression crumbled into a pout.

"Why won’t he let me pet him?" he whined, clearly heartbroken by the rejection.

Adam rolled his eyes at the antics, stifling a laugh.

"He’s just grumpy," he explained, though his amused grin betrayed how entertained he was by the whole situation.

Eventually, the room dimmed as the lights were turned off, and everyone settled into their respective spots. Angel Lucifer, despite his excitement, didn’t take up much space, his wings carefully tucked in as he lay face-to-face with Adam. His warm, blue eyes glowed in the dark, a soft, loving smile playing on his lips as he gazed at Adam with something almost akin to adoration.

The tender gaze made Adam’s heart skip a beat.

"What’s your relationship like... with your Adam?" he found himself asking quietly, curiosity getting the better of him. The way Angel Lucifer looked at him made him wonder what it was like in Eden, to have someone look at him with such devotion.

Before Angel Lucifer could respond, a pair of small, fluffy paws appeared between their faces. Both Adam and the angel looked up to find the Munchkin perched on the pillow above them, his eyes glinting with displeasure at the cozy arrangement. The little cat huffed, his tail flicking in irritation, and stretched out, pushing his paws directly into Angel Lucifer’s cheek, as if to forcibly reclaim his territory.

Angel Lucifer let out a soft, surprised whine, tilting his head back to avoid the cat’s possessive push.

"Why is he like this?" the angel pouted, clearly frustrated by his cat-self’s jealousy.

With a chuckle, Adam rolled over onto his other side, leaving Lucifer to deal with his obstinate cat-self. In the dim light, his eyes landed on the suited Lucifer, still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, arms crossed and head bowed. His eyes were closed, but it didn’t look at all comfortable. His entire posture screamed tension.

Adam bit his lip, wondering if the other Lucifer was actually asleep—or if he was simply enduring in silence.

Sleep had taken Adam quickly, pulling him under despite the tangled mess of emotions and the strange, surreal circumstances of his evening. But after an hour or two, his body stirred again, his eyes fluttering open in the dim light of the room. His vision slowly focused, and he found himself gazing at the suited Lucifer, who was still sitting awkwardly against the wall.

Lucifer wasn’t asleep. In fact, he looked far from restful. He shifted constantly, his legs stretching out only to be drawn back in, his head tilting against the wall before snapping upright again. He squirmed as if trying to find a comfortable position, but there was none to be had. Adam blinked groggily, realizing with a pang of guilt that the poor devil likely hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Adam whispered, his voice soft, as though speaking too loudly might break the fragile quiet of the room.

The suited Lucifer froze, his red and gold eyes widening, clearly surprised that Adam was awake. His posture stiffened before he mumbled, "Sorry... I didn’t mean to wake you."

Adam shook his head gently, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

"You didn’t. But are you sure you don’t want to sleep on the bed? There’s space," he offered again, his voice warm with genuine concern.

For a moment, Lucifer said nothing, his gaze darting between Adam and the bed. Adam could swear he saw a faint blush beginning to spread across Lucifer’s sharp cheekbones, the tiniest hint of vulnerability that seemed almost out of place on his normally confident face.

Finally, in a soft, almost hesitant voice, Lucifer whispered, "Are you sure? You’ve already got... company."

Adam hummed thoughtfully, feeling the gentle weight of his Munchkin still purring contentedly against his neck, his soft fur warm against his skin. He stretched out his legs, his feet brushing against the slumbering angelic counterpart at the foot of the bed. A small smile spread across his face.

"There’s plenty of room," Adam replied, lifting the edge of the quilt in a silent invitation. His smile grew as he added, "Come on, it’s fine."

Suited Lucifer hesitated for a moment, his blush deepening as he shyly glanced at the open space. But eventually, the exhaustion must have gotten the better of him because he quietly slipped off his boots and crawled under the quilt, moving gingerly as though afraid to disturb the already crowded bed.

The space between them was minimal—Adam could feel the warmth radiating off Lucifer’s body as they lay side by side. Their eyes met in the low light, emerald green locking with that striking mix of red and gold.

"I’ve never seen eyes like yours before," Adam mused, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper.

Lucifer looked away shyly, his gaze dropping to the quilt as a small, self-conscious smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I’m... not exactly anybody," he replied quietly, the blush still lingering on his cheeks.

Adam’s smile widened.

"Yeah, I noticed," he teased lightly. "The wings on your other self kinda clued me in."

Lucifer’s lips twitched with amusement, his earlier tension starting to melt away. "Not the cat with dimension-bending magic?"

Adam chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to absentmindedly scratch behind the Munchkin’s ears. "Well, that did give me a hint. But my baby’s harmless."

Suddenly, a soft, indignant sound came from the other side of the bed. Angel Lucifer, who had been peacefully sleeping, let out a whine and shifted, his brow furrowing in sleepy irritation.

"I wasn’t even that close to Adam," he muttered, huffing as he tried to defend himself from some unspoken accusation. The Munchkin, still curled up against Adam, meowed in protest, clearly disagreeing.

Adam and suited Lucifer exchanged glances, both of them biting back laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, maybe not completely harmless," Adam admitted with a grin, his voice laced with amusement.

Lucifer smiled, a warm, soft smile that lit up his eyes. He didn’t say it aloud, but as he lay there beside Adam, he realized just how much he had missed this. He missed the quiet, simple intimacy of sharing a bed with Adam. He missed the warmth, the quiet moments of being close. He missed just being with him, the way things had been back in Eden. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed Adam—until now.

"Are you okay?" Adam’s gentle voice broke through Lucifer’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present. There was genuine concern in Adam’s eyes as he looked at him.

Lucifer hummed softly, turning to meet Adam’s gaze again. "I’m fine," he said quietly, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. "I just... have a lot on my mind."

Adam didn’t press further. Instead, he offered a soft, understanding smile, shifting slightly under the covers to get more comfortable. Lucifer, feeling the warmth of that smile, allowed himself to relax just a little more. He was here, for now, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he was close to Adam again.

Maybe, just for tonight, that was enough.

Morning crept in softly, like the gentlest of whispers, pulling Adam from the depths of his sleep. At first, he hovered in that hazy space between dreams and reality, his mind groggy and unfocused. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if the strange events of the previous night had been nothing more than a bizarre dream. Surely, it had to be—two versions of Lucifer showing up in his tiny flat? Dimension magic? Talking cats?

But as his body slowly stirred, waking inch by inch, the sensations that greeted him were undeniably real. He felt different, his body at odds with itself. He was both hot and cold, warm and cool. Sweat clung to his skin, yet there was an unmistakable shiver running through him. His back was freezing, while his front was stiflingly warm. And when he tried to shift, to move and find some comfort, he realized he couldn’t.

Something—or rather, someone—was holding him. No, two someones. He was completely trapped, sandwiched between two firm, solid bodies, one radiating heat like a furnace, the other as cool and refreshing as winter wind. His heart began to pound in his chest, the fog of sleep lifting as his awareness sharpened.

Adam forced his eyes open, blinking blearily in the dim light filtering into the room. His gaze darted around, and his breath caught in his throat as the memories of the night before came rushing back with a startling clarity.

Lucifer. Well, two Lucifers. The humanoid versions of his possessive little Munchkin.

His heart jumped into his throat as he realized the full extent of his situation. He was trapped—pressed between both versions of Lucifer, their bodies draped over him like a living, breathing blanket. His face flushed a deep crimson as he became acutely aware of how intimate this all was.

At his front, the suited Lucifer was nestled close, his face buried against Adam's throat. His breath was hot, rolling in gentle waves over Adam’s exposed skin, sending shivers down his spine. Adam swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the way Lucifer’s warm body felt pressed up against his, or how his claws—gentle but possessive—were wrapped securely around his waist, holding him in place.

Behind him, Angel Lucifer was equally as close, his cool breath washing over the back of Adam’s neck, making the sensitive skin there prickle with goosebumps. His soft, ethereal hands were wrapped around Adam’s chest, the gentle motions of his fingers rubbing over his skin in his sleep, as though even in his dreams, he needed to touch Adam.

Adam squirmed lightly, trying to shift without waking either of them, but it was no use. He was completely enveloped, pinned between two opposing forces—heat and cold, fire and ice. His oversized t-shirt had somehow ridden up during the night, exposing more skin than he was comfortable with, especially given how close the two Lucifers were. He could feel the heat from one, the coolness from the other, and it was doing strange things to him, sending a wave of chills and tension coursing through his body.

His heart raced, his cheeks blazing a deeper shade of red as he tried to process the situation. He had never been sandwiched between two bodies like this, especially not two otherworldly beings as beautiful as these. Every slight movement made him more aware of their proximity—the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the heat and coolness of their skin, the way their hands seemed to cling to him even in sleep.

Adam shivered again, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand. Why was suited Lucifer so hot—practically burning against him—while Angel Lucifer felt like the embodiment of winter? He didn’t know if he liked it or if it made him more confused, but what he did know was that his body was tensing up, caught in the strange mix of sensations, the overwhelming closeness of them.

With a sharp intake of breath, Adam tried to calm the storm of emotions inside him. He had to get control of himself, to figure out how to extricate himself from this rather compromising position. But every attempt to move only seemed to press him deeper into their embrace, their bodies shifting slightly, but never letting go.

He tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of suited Lucifer's face, and his breath hitched again. Lucifer's sharp, golden eyes were still closed, his lips parted slightly as he exhaled softly against Adam’s neck, sending another shiver cascading down his spine. Adam’s gaze then flicked to the angelic version of Lucifer, who still snuggled into the curve of his back, his wings tucked neatly, his cool breath tickling Adam's nape.

Adam’s heart hammered wildly in his chest, torn between the sheer absurdity and seduction of the moment. He wanted to laugh, to question how the hell he ended up like this, but his voice caught in his throat, stifled by the strange, intoxicating pull of it all.

What was he supposed to do?

Moving carefully, Adam gulped. He could feel something pressing into his backside, something hard and projecting out from the angel Lucifer. He could also feel the exact same thing pressed against his front. Adam moved and gasped, feeling both hard cocks rub against him. He clenched his teeth and glanced at both Lucifer’s face. Their eyebrows furrowed in their sleeps and suddenly, both of them grinded their hips forward, making Adam shudder.

Shit.

What should he do? He couldn't crawl out from between the two of them. They were holding him so securely. Practically squishing him between them. He really did feel like a sandwich.

They both continued to grind into him, rubbing their hardening cocks even more upon him. To the point Adam’s oversized shirt raised higher, revealing his own private parts. Adam’s breath hitched, his body stiffening up further, he should have put something on. He should have grabbed a pair of shorts or something, but he didn’t. He didn’t think, he felt so stupid now.

A gasp escaped him as the suited lucifer began to roll his hips firmly against him, his harden cock beginning to rub fully against his exposed cock. Adam winced, closing his eyes briefly as pleasure began to run through him. When he opened them again, he found Lucifer’s fiery eyes open and staring at him. He was flushed, his golden hair sticking to his forehead and panting softly. In fact, he looked almost feverous? As if he was suddenly under a sickness. Adam wanted to ask him if he was alright but couldn’t get any words out.

Adam’s own eyes widened as he found suited Lucifer suddenly awake and not asleep. He parted his lips to speak, but Lucifer shook his head. He suddenly shuffled himself, pulling his hips back for a few seconds. If it was possible, Adam’s eyes widened further as he felt something new push up against his cock. He tried to look down but couldn’t, suited Lucifer immediately pushed his face into his throat, beginning to nip and lick at his throat.

Suited Lucifer had unbuttoned his white pants and pulled out his own cock. He rubbed it against Adam’s, making sure their heads licked, nipped and kissed. He groaned, shuddering into Adam’s body. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He was practically taking advantage of this other Adam, but his body wouldn’t settle down. His body was flaring with want. A sort of desire he had felt since Eden.

He shuddered even more, pressing himself firmly against Adam’s front.

Meanwhile, angel Lucifer’s sapphire blue eyes were wide in shock but also fascination. He was peeking over Adam’s shoulder, his arms tightening around Adam’s front. Lucifer didn’t know why, but seeing Adam – his Adam squirming and trembling with such a lovely expression was making his insides twist with coldness. Not unpleasant coldness as all. In fact he liked it very much.

Between his legs was a new sensation. Something that he couldn’t help but buckle into Adam’s ass. Lucifer nuzzled his face into the back of Adam’s throat, whimpering softly into the flesh and deciding to try what his otherself was doing. He parted his plump lips and licked at Adam’s flesh. Fuck. It tasted so good. Angel Lucifer began to lick more furiously at the skin, nipping with his teeth and sucking. His hands rubbed across Adam’s chest, he became fascinated when he discovered Adam’s nipples had grown hard. When Adam moaned from the touch, Angel Lucifer began to rub them even harsher. Playing with them, twisting them and pinching them until Adam was a moaning mess between the two Lucifers.

A new hunger grow within both Lucifers. Their hands and claws pulling at Adam's t-shirt, ripping it with the strong desire to touch his skin. To mark it up and stain it. They both wanted Adam gasping and moaning between them.

Later, as the world outside remained cloaked in shadows, the soft stirrings of Lucifer—the Munchkin, of course—disrupted the tranquil stillness in the small flat. The snow-white cat stretched languidly, his velvety fur shimmering under the dim light as he rolled over in his plush bed. He blinked open his piercing blue eyes, sensing something off. A strange energy lingered in the air, tugging at his instincts, and his ears twitched in response. His long, luxurious tail swished lazily, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

Hours ago, he’d felt restless, his usual spot on Adam’s bed turning into a battlefield of temperatures—one side too hot, the other too cold. It was unbearable for the proud feline. Despite his strong attachment to his Adam, he’d reluctantly hopped off the bed, padding silently across the room to his little cat bed, where he had stretched out, basking in his own space. Finally, some peace.

But now, something was wrong. Very wrong.

Lucifer rolled over again, his sleek body shifting restlessly. His sharp claws unsheathed as he kneaded his bed, his instincts flaring. His fluffy ears stood erect, alert and twitching, picking up faint sounds that made his fur bristle. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbled from the back of his throat as he turned his head, his sharp eyes darting toward the bed.

And that’s when he saw it...or them!

His Adam. Trapped. Smothered.

Between them.

His lovely, beauitful Adam was exposed, naked as the day he was born. A sight that belonged to him alone. Adam was bouncing heatly on the lap on the devil Lucifer, who was gazing up at him with an expression of awe and warmth. Angel Lucifer was on Adam's lap, taking Adam''s cock fully up his own ass.

All three of them were gasping and moaning. Angel Lucifer was clinging to Adam, his arms locked around his shoulder and face buried into Adam's throat.

His fur puffed up in outrage, standing on end, giving him the appearance of a fluffed-up snowball with a temper. He let out a low, menacing hiss, the sound slicing through the moaning music like a knife. His precious Adam—his human—was sandwiched between the two imposters, the two-legged versions of himself. The indignity of it all sent his feline senses into overdrive.

Lucifer’s hiss grew louder, his blue eyes narrowing in sheer disbelief.

How dare they? How dare they touch what was his!

His Adam was his. His. And yet here they were, acting as though they belonged there, as though they had any right to be so close, so… intimate. They were there taking advantage of his Adam!

He padded forward, creeping silently across the floor with his signature feline grace, but his fury was unmistakable. The claws came out, tapping softly against the hardwood floor as his growling deepened. Lucifer's gaze locked onto the intruders, his tail twitching with irritation. He could almost feel the heat radiating from the suited Lucifer cradling Adam on his lap, and the cool, ethereal chill coming from the angelic one on top of Adam. Their mere presence made his skin crawl.

With a final, sharp hiss, Lucifer leapt onto the bed, his small but proud body landing squarely in the middle of the trio. He bared his teeth, his hiss turning into a threatening snarl, causing the three of them freeze in disblief.

Adam blinked down at his cat, it took him a moment to realize what was going on. His face already flulshed fully as he wondered if he should somehow untangle himself? He even began to squirm, trying to get out from between them, but both Lucifer's held him fast.

"We're busy." Suited Lucifer said, meeting the angry cat's glare with one of his own. "Adam's spending time with us right now."

Angel Lucifer made a hum, opening his mouth but only moaning. Suited Lucifer buckled up into Adam which forced Adam to thrust up into the Angel. Lucifer sighed deeply, returning to bouncing harshly on Adam's lap.

Suited Lucifer's eyes brightened up as Adam began to moan and whine once more. He quickly began to thurst up into him.

The munchkin didn't back down, he waited until the three was done. When they were, the moment Adam was delicately laid down, he wedged himself right between Adam and the two Lucifers, glaring at both of them with a mixture of disgust and warning.

"Lucifer!" Adam chuckled tiredly.

Angel Lucifer tried to snuggle into Adam but the cat hissed at him.

“Oh, come now,” Angel Lucifer cooed, his voice soft and soothing as he reached out a hand toward the cat. "Don’t be like that. We’re just—"

Before he could finish, the Munchkin let out a warning growl, his tail swishing violently as he swiped at the angel's hand, just barely missing it with a flick of his sharp claws.

"Ow!" Angel Lucifer yelped, pulling his hand back quickly, his wide eyes brimming with hurt. "He’s so mean to me."

“I told you he’d be trouble,” suited Lucifer muttered, rubbing his temple as though he had a headache. His glowing golden eyes narrowed at the puffed-up Munchkin, but he made no move to touch him, clearly already understanding the boundaries. “He's so jealous we got to play with Adam and he didn't.”

Cat Lucifer hissed again.

."He’s just being protective," Adam hummed, pulling his cat Lucifer closer to him. He pressed soft kisses along the fluffy white cat's face.

“Lucifer—" he paused, realizing how confusing that name was in this context, "uh, baby, they’re guests. You have to be nice.”

Lucifer, the cat, wasn’t having it. He bared his teeth again, his eyes flashing dangerously as if to say, They can be guests on the floor! They're never too touch you again!

Adam sighed, giving the little Munchkin a gentle scratch behind his ear, trying to soothe his temper.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “They won’t take your spot.”

The cat reluctantly settled, but not before giving one last icy glare at the two humanoid versions of himself, as if warning them to stay in their lane.

Both Lucifers shared a look - oh! This will not be the last time they play with the cat's Adam.

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #fanfic #lucifer x adam #guitarduck #au #fanficiton #adamsapple month #for adamsapple fans!#adamsapple harvest #adamsapple temperature play

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