#regarding the Five Sinners

[reginrokkr]

Itty bitty PSA that starting from Monday, I'll start posting 5.3 related things without dumping them under read more!

[twilightichor]

I may... be having a late night brainrot over this fanart still and wondering if Vedrfolnir didn't necessarily want to antagonize Dain, that he's been doing these things with the mindset that he could do something to make better the whole situation™ with Teyvat and, because he knows Dain, that he would be able to stop him eventually. Something like Jecht and Tidus from FFX which is... something I can definitely see. Because even from the hatred he seems to have for his older brother + the other 4 sinners, even if he's being an Abyss Order terrorist, even within that hatred he continues having some manner of kindness. If anything, because he could easily take it on Lumine until he makes Vedrfolnir come out to enact his vengeance, as it's confirmed that he can defeat her. But he doesn't, and I believe that speaks many volumes about him.

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language! Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents. Wordcount: 5.4k A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 

   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 

   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”

   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 

   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 

   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

   “You know nothing, you prick!”

   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

   “How do you dare question my commitment?”

   “At least I care for your daughters.”

   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

   “Yes. Please.”

   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

   “Stop it, Angel.”

   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

[vanilladove]

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ sinful angel

gif creds the-chikyuu-times

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ pairing: hacker!fyodor x camgirl!reader

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ genre: smut w/ plot; 18+ only mdni!!!!!!

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ content warnings: light bsd manga spoilers, dubious consent + manipulation, sexwork mentions, sex toy use, slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, some degrading (+ lots of praise to balance it out)

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ summary: you've caught the eye of cybercriminal fyodor dostoevsky, who regards you as his sweet angel. watching you isn't enough to satisfy the lurking demon, who wants nothing but to corrupt you. translation notes: "milaya" = sweetheart, "shlyukha" = whore

𐙚 ⋆˚.⋆ word count: 5.7k

Fyodor sighed in annoyance, running his hands through his dark hair as he looked at all the computer screens in front of him. He was tracking down an arms dealer that was nothing but a pawn ready to be disposed of. The monitor displayed footage from the dealer's apartment, and showed him standing in the lobby making a phone call.

By the way he was hurriedly whispering, Fyodor could tell he was trying to be discreet. It was useless. The dealer was too occupied trying to hide his words from the security guard that he didn't even realize Fyodor had hacked into his phone and was listening in on the whole conversation. It had already been thirty minutes, and the hacker felt restless, waiting for the stupid pawn to just go back to his room and find the sweet gift awaiting him—another henchman ready to shoot him dead.

The dark haired man anxiously bit his fingernail until he heard something—no, it must've been the voice of an angel—through the recording of the dealer's phone conversation. His eyes narrowed onto the source of the voice from the screen.

There you stood, wearing a pastel pink and white lacy top, white cotton maxi skirt, white flats, and a ribbon in your flowing hair. You sweetly greeted the security guard, giving them a fresh pastry that you'd presumedly just bought. Your saccharine voice and mannerisms struck Fyodor's cold heart, snapping him out of his boredom. A precious anomaly in a world of pawns and subordinates, an angel.

His magenta eyes followed your movements towards the elevator, and his fingers instinctively typed in code to display the elevator's camera feed onto a different monitor, noting your floor number and the room number transcribed onto your keys. Pulling up another set of cameras for your floor's hallway and your attached balcony, Fyodor watched as you entered your unit and set your bag down on the dining table, pulling out a strawberry custard tart and going to the kitchen to pull out a mug and a teabag. He smiled, watching you brew his favorite blend of black tea and pulling out your laptop to find a show to watch while enjoying your midday treat. In his eyes, you were a woman of fine taste. An elegant lady that held herself to the highest standards of purity and grace. Your apartment was clean, with the right amount of cute, feminine touches and white lace everywhere. Truly a sight for sore eyes, and the perfect relief for an overworked criminal mastermind like himself.

The dealer's phone call suddenly ending interrupted Fyodor's daydreams as he turned his back to the screen showing you and watched the dealer take the elevator. He guessed it would take forty-five minutes or so to get the job done and cover all the tracks of the murder. After that, he promised his attention would be on you again.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Fyodor Dostoevsky was a lonely man. Throughout his many lifetimes, he'd never sought out a companion, nor did he necessarily have the desire to. More and more, he found himself displeased by the new generations of sinners, unimpressed by virtually everyone. He didn't care much for consuming media, but for some reason he had a strong urge to watch the movie with you. Judging your character, he was sure you were watching some cheesy rom-com or a soapy drama. He was intrigued and bewitched by you and your sweet nature, which was why he couldn't help hacking into your laptop to see what you were watching, planning a 'movie-date' of sorts in his mind.

What he wasn't expecting to see was you spread open, in white lace lingerie and stockings, touching yourself.

Fuck, were you recording yourself?

His eyes widened, watching your manicured nails circle around your glossy clit, panting as you ran your fingers up and down your opening. Your thin panties were pulled to the side, leaving your bare cunt on display, slick dripping down. You whined and bucked your hips as you slipped two fingers inside, whining from the stretch.

"A-ahh, f-fuck—" You whimpered, your arousal leaking more from the pressure of your movements. You were moaning louder now, your other hand coming underneath your knee to expose your stocking and give a better view to the camera.

"Mmm—I'm gonna cum—make sure to watch, 'kay?"

Fyodor watched in utter shock as he witnessed you in a complete state of lustful pleasure. His angelic fixation was actually nothing more than a sinful temptress, a camgirl. As disappointed as he wanted to be, he couldn't ignore the strain against his pants. Seeing your blissful state, the bunched up lace, and listening to your sweet voice was enough to make him painfully hard for you.

With a groan, he leaned back into his padded chair, freeing his pulsing cock and tightly stroking up and down his length, eyes squinting yet open so he could still see your sensual body on the monitor screen.

He shamefully squeezed his leaking tip, trying to time his movements with your soft moans. Fyodor carefully trained his gaze on your pussy, closely watching your arousal drip down your slit, and how you gradually squeezed your thigh harder for relief.

You suddenly popped your fingers out and rubbed fast around your now swollen clit, body moving slightly as you heaved your chest from the feeling. You were practically whimpering at this point, close to finishing. Fyodor stroked faster to match your neediness, starting to buck his hips into his hand. His face was surely flushed a rosy pink by now, matching the color of his darkened tip.

“C-cumming—guys, I’m cumming—” You jerked up slightly, fingers leaving your clit to lightly spread your folds as your cum dripped out of your loosened hole, dampening the fuzzy white blanket below you. Your legs were shaking a bit as the orgasm washed over you, but Fyodor’s eyes widened again after you slowly wiped the excess cum around the outside of your pussy and the crevices between your thighs, leaving your skin glossy and shiny. You giggled sweetly, causing more blood to rush straight to his hard cock.

“Ahh, I kinda made a mess, didn’t I?! Let’s try this one next~!” You slowly pulled out a pink dildo, kissing the tip of it loudly and carefully rubbing it around your slit to lubricate it with your juices, gasping anytime it hit a sensitive spot.

God, you vixen. You knew what you were doing.

The hacker couldn’t resist, sweat starting to bead at his forehead as his breath got thicker in the air, cock feeling heavier and tighter while watching you tease yourself with the sex toy. He couldn’t help but wish it was his cock instead of that fake dildo that was slipping in and out of his pretty angel’s cunt as he fucked up into his fist more intensely. Borderline growls left his lips as he tried to chase his own release, which he cursed himself for since it wasn’t coming out fast enough.

As your own moans got louder and more broken, Fyodor could feel himself getting equally as lost into his own delusions, trying to satiate the long suppressed lustful desires. One orgasm wasn’t enough, he needed—no, craved—more, and long after your stream had ended, he couldn’t hold himself back from exploring your page, going through your different videos with one hand stroking his unsatisfied dick.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Catching his breath, Fyodor cleaned himself off afterwards, feeling ashamed yet incredibly turned on from his actions. It was probably the hardest he’d came in a long time. As much as he wanted to continue to obsess over you, he was rudely interrupted by Nikolai barging into his space. Fyodor turned his chair immediately and glared at the white-haired jester.

Nikolai smirked mischievously, “What the hell, Dos, you watchin’ porn or something?” He taunted, causing Fyodor to scowl and throw his dirty napkins at him, which Nikolai swiftly avoided.

“None of your business…and knock before you enter my room.”

Fyodor gritted his teeth. Was it his own noisy groans or the audio of your moans playing out loud that Nikolai could hear? He secretly hoped it was the former since he didn’t want anyone else hearing his angel’s precious voice, especially not in such a lewd state.

“Well whatever, I was just letting you know that I killed and disposed of the dealer, so I expect my payment.” Nikolai waved his hands dismissively before pausing, tilting his head in a coy manner before grinning at Fyodor again, “By the way, if she’s a cam girl, you can usually tip her if you want a more personal interaction.”

Fyodor narrowed his eyes again, throwing more badly-aimed tissues at Nikolai. “Get. Out.” He threatened sternly, sick of Nikolai’s antics. The jester didn’t care, only laughing pridefully and singing “Dos likes a girlllll~” before leaving.

After waiting for his footsteps to disappear, Fyodor pulled up your account again. Coincidentally, you went by the alias of “angel” and dedicated your whole page to a soft, lacy aesthetic, becoming the perfect sinful object of desire for your subscribers. He found the paid chat and calls for your account, and swiftly made an encrypted account to send you a message, noticing you were still online.

demonfyo: My angel, how are you? Your beauty has entranced me, and it’s all I can think about…

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: hiiiiiiiii~♡ oh, how you flatter me demonfyo, i’m blushing (￣▽￣;) i’m feeling very playful atm hehe what abt you?

demonfyo: I’ve been trying to pray and repent all night, but I can’t get your pretty pussy and voice out of my thoughts.

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: sounds like my charm is working hehe ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა i'm happy i could help you get off lots ♡

demonfyo: Can you bless me with a short call, darling? I need you.

angel ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚: yesyes! do you want to do a video call? ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

demonfyo: No, I just want to hear your sweet voice for a bit before I go to bed. Is that alright?

The incoming message notification sent your heart racing. Somehow, the new user had caught your attention. Swinging your legs cutely on your soft sheets, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about the mysterious sender. Typically, those who paid for messages got straight to the point, often explicitly stating their feelings towards you with no filter or immediately requesting a personalized video call. Seeing someone address you so adoringly certainly pulled on your heartstrings a bit, and the mystery behind what the new sender wanted was making you excited. You pressed the call button, anticipating the voice on the other side.

You cleared your throat, "Hihi, This is Angel~! Is this demonfy—"

"Fyodor. Call me Fyodor, angel". Your mysterious caller's deep, husky voice startled you. From the way he was messaging you, you half expected it to be some horny old man, but the man calling you sounded attractive. Fuck, you were getting a little turned on—thanks to your secret voice kink.

Of course, your small reactions didn't go unnoticed by Fyodor, who was intently watching you on his monitor. He smirked pridefully after seeing the rose on your cheeks and the way you slowly clenched your thighs together from hearing his voice.

"F-Fyodor. Umm, h-hi. Was there anything you wanted to talk about?" You quickly tried to regain some composure, nervous about talking to someone desirable, not just the usual degenerate. It didn't fool Fyodor, though, who you could hear sneering on the other side. You bit your lip—even his laugh was hot.

Fyodor spoke slowly, "Stuttering, huh...Do I make you nervous, milaya?" Your breath hitched, which he caught again. You were too fun to tease. "You're not used to being intimate with other men? Even though you're a camgirl?"

"N-no, it's not that...I'm just not used to non-sexual conversations." You huffed, trying to sound less flustered, "And I don't get intimate with other men; it's just me in front if the camera. N-not that I'd be opposed to having a special guest though—!"

He smiled at that, noting how hot and bothered you were getting, "Would you do it with me, then? I could make you feel better than that cheap pink dildo."

"W-what?!" You quickly shot out, gripping the sheets for balance, drawing another mocking laugh from Fyodor, which made you instantly regret it. Pull yourself together, girl! Maybe he's trying to roleplay!

"Yes, I would,” you muttered, trying to recover your confidence and add a flirty tone to your voice, “Would you whisper dirty things in my ear?”

Fyodor tilted his head, watching you bite your lip before whispering sweetly into the microphone, “Only if you begged me to, my sweet girl. You like my voice that much?”

“Maybe~” You teased, starting to feel tension build up again in your core. You lightly moved across your sheets, trying to relieve some of your pent-up arousal—even though you knew it wouldn’t be enough. Fyodor sighed watching you sink further into your bed, eyes starting to gloss over.

“Touch yourself and dream of me tonight, and it might happen,” your caller whispered, admiring you through the screen and smiling when you gasped and gripped the sheets tighter. “Sweet dreams, my pretty angel. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He whispered the last part to himself and ended the call before you could even process what he said or respond, making you double back at the empty screen.

You pouted, already missing Fyodor’s voice, but that didn’t take your attention away from how wet you were. Even your fatigue couldn’t stop your heartbeat, and you hastily opened your drawer of toys and reached for a baby pink vibrator, silently cursing yourself for being so horny and cursing your caller for leaving you hanging. You laid back in your bed, pulling aside your shorts as you covered you eyes in shame. No one had ever had this much of an effect on you. Imagining Fyodor’s sultry voice, you turned on the toy and moved it downwards, unaware of the violet eyes trained on you and following every movement and sound.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

You closed your laptop and stretched after editing some videos to tease your fans with. It was raining hard outside, ruining your plans to go out and get your usual strawberry tart. Sighing and opening your fridge, you thought about what to make for dinner.

You settled on pasta and grabbed a pot, filling it with water and turning on the stove. You went to grab some noodles before turning around and realizing the stove wasn’t turning on. Confused, you tried pushing the buttons on your oven and microwave, but they weren’t responding. A power outage? Strange, but at least your internet was still working. You really needed to call maintenance, but it could wait. You instead opened a food delivery app, ordering some vodka pasta and tiramisu and laying down annoyedly on your couch, drinking some rosé that you poured for yourself. Resting for about 20 minutes, a knock on your door woke you up.

A bit buzzed, you walked to the door and opened it to see your delivery person. He had shoulder length dark hair and a big hat was covering his face.

“Thanks!” You said sweetly, grabbing the paper bag from the man. He nodded slowly and you noticed the drops of water beading off the front strands of his hair. Oh, right, it was pouring outside. “U-Um, wait! Before you go, let me grab you a towel and some tip money. I feel kinda bad about the weather.” You tried to offer some sympathy and set your food on your dining table before going into your room to fish out some extra change from your wallet. Rushing back to the door, you were surprised to see that the delivery man was gone, and your door was now shut.

“Where did he go?” Muttering under your breath, you opened the door to look out into the hallway before sighing and closing the door. Maybe he was in a rush…at least you got to keep your money…

Your eyes widened right after closing the door, though, and a shiver ran down your spine as you felt warm air against your ear, “Hello, my angel.” You shrieked as you whipped around to see the same delivery man without his hat and a pair of glowing purple eyes staring back at you menacingly.

Alarmed, you tried to open the door and scream loudly for help, but the dark-haired man pulled your body against him and put a hand to your mouth, the other pulling you in and and resting on your back. “Why so scared, milaya? Didn’t you want to see me last night?” You yelped instinctively as you recognized the husky voice, which made you turn cold.

Fyodor.

“F-Fyodor! W-What are you doing here?!” You tried to back up, but he followed you, still holding you tightly as your back hit the door. He only grinned evilly, eyes low and mentally undressing you—not that your floral lace set was hiding anything, especially since you were bra-less and only had a skimpy white thong on. His hot breath fanned over your face as you took him in. He was much taller than you with a relatively thin frame, and his voice matched his ghostly, handsome appearance—like the attractive villain in a movie. But his touch was cold, so cold.

“You’re so beautiful, angel, yes, much more in person,” he whispered lowly, dragging his lips down from your ear to your jaw, “I’ve always taken a liking to pretty people, and you, milaya, are no exception.” You were shaking, fearful of his intentions—it was no secret that people into your work were suspicious. He looked up at you with an almost predator-like expression. “I’m going to move my hand. If you know what’s good for you, don’t scream. Understand?”

He was taunting you, but you were to afraid to fight back, and you nodded slowly in compliance, earning a cunning smile from him as well as a peck on your forehead as he moved his hands away from your mouth to slowly caress your cheeks. Your mouth was sealed shut from fear. “Good girl…I’m going to reward you now.” He whispered slowly before moving his head down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. You tried to keep your eyes open, but they closed upon feeling his soft touch.

Despite intruding into your apartment and forcing himself on you, he kissed you sensually, like a lover. Your hands pressed against his chest, but as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, your hands went to tangle in his long hair, still slightly damp from the rain, drawing a low groan from him. His knee came in between your leg, and the sudden pressure made you moan into the kiss, the shock causing you to break away from him and pant to catch your breath. You cursed your face for betraying you—your cheeks felt hot and you were sure you were blushing like crazy. Not to mention the fact that you could feel your nipples hardening beneath your long sleeve top.

As much as you wanted to blame your body’s reactions on the rosé you were drinking earlier, a part of you knew it was because of his voice, which you’d been fantasizing about since the call. Not to mention, being a cam girl made you turned on by the thought of your caller visiting you. As ashamed as you were, you knew Fyodor was enjoying every bit of your internal struggle, the sly smirk still on his face as he felt your heat on his clothed thigh. He quickly went to your neck, nipping and kissing your sensitive skin, somehow knowing where your sweet spots were and leaving light hickeys, making you whimper every time. His leg simultaneously grinded against your cunt, weakening the little balance you had left. You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy, wrapping your arms around Fyodor’s shoulders and playing with his hair.

Before pulling away and lowering his leg, he gently kissed over your hickeys along with the tears starting to prick your needy eyes. “Fyodor…” You started quietly, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact. He gave you a soft smile before tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear. You looked so cute gripping onto his shirt for what seemed like dear life, too flustered to even look up. How easily his pretty vixen fell apart for him.

“Yes, my angel?” He responded, still gazing at your face affectionately, like he was deeply devoted to you.

“Can we…” You trailed off, not sure what to say since your heart, head, and arousal were all screaming different things at you. Fyodor stroked your face with his knuckles slowly, enjoying how fragile you were under him, how corrupted your mind became. His questioning deep hum vibrated through your body, making you shiver and hold your breath.

The demon had captivated his innocent angel, bringing out her most sinful desires and conjuring the unholy courtesan that she really was. “C-can you fuck me? Please, Fyodor, I want you—“ You begged, forcing your doe eyes to look into his piercing orbs. His lips twisted upwards, and he slowly stepped back from you, turning you around and leading you backwards to your nearby plush couch, encouraging you to continue.

“I dreamt of you last night after our call, but it wasn’t enough. I tried so many toys, but I really wanted you…” You whined, making Fyodor push you back faster. “I kept thinking about how good your dick would feel inside of me, and the things you would say to me. What kind of things do you lik—“ Your rambling was cut off by your legs hitting the edge of the couch, and Fyodor swiftly pulling you seated into his lap, your back hitting his lean chest.

He seemed to be satisfied with your pleas, not pushing you for anymore and driving you into an embarrassing silence. He rested his head on your shoulder and exhaled, lazily wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, angel, I was watching you.” You moved your head an inch to the side, even more flustered about your words.

“…Oh, on my website and livestreams?” Fyodor shook his head slowly, making your stomach drop. He grabbed your chin and moved your face around your room.

“No, here, there, and…here!” He guided your face from your smart fridge to your balcony camera and finally to your laptop camera. He smiled upon feeling you gulp nervously. “Ah, I guess I watched your livestreams and videos, too, but it’s more fun to watch you alone from different cameras,” he mentioned it too naturally, like that wasn’t considered creepy or an invasion of privacy. He frowned teasingly, “You should really get a stronger security system, angel. Lots of hackers are out there, and they love to target helpless, sweet girls like you.” He smiled to himself; not like any security systems could protect you—he could bypass all of them.

“Oh, about that…you wouldn’t mind streaming this, would you?” Your body froze, but he continued. His hands left your waist to glide down your arms, moving his fingers on top of yours. He reached over to your laptop and dragged your fingertip on top of a key to unlock it, going over to your bookmarked website and hitting the record button to start a livestream. He hid the live comment notifications, so your attention would be only on him. Your heart was beating rapidly as you were too shocked—realizing that Fyodor was a cyberstalker and about to make his presence known—trying to move his hand, but the one minute timer was already counting down on the screen.

Fyodor sighed after seeing your appalled expression, seeing the timer at 50 seconds. "Angel, that's no good...your viewers won't like it if you don't show them a pretty face. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will." He pushed you off his lap onto the floor, and the force of your knees hitting the floor finally brought you back to the present.

"H-hey, wha—" You snapped, placing your hands on Fyodor's thighs to steady your kneeling figure. He only looked back at you lovingly again while petting your head. Shit, that expression made you wet weak.

He bent down to your level to kiss your lips while looking into your eyes with a sympathetic expression, "Please, angel, be good for me..." You closed your eyes for a moment to savor his sweet gesture, "Or at least do it for your loyal viewers." He smirked, reminding you of your job. To perform. He was just giving you the option to enjoy it or not.

You only turned your head and pouted, earning another snide laugh from Fyodor, before he swiftly pulled off his pants and boxers, revealing his springing hard-on. Your eyes widened. It was long, not too thick, and the pale mauve-ish tip was already starting to leak some pre-cum. Definitely bigger than your dildos.

He clicked his tongue, "Angel, time's up." The counter was at five seconds, and Fyodor placed his hand behind your head, pulling you closer to his length. "If you're still embarrassed or upset, you can just start—no need to do an introduction." He cooed, offering some faux condolences which made you narrow your eyes at him for trying to mansplain your own job.

You heard the beep notifying you that your stream had started, so you lowered your head to his tip and kissed it softly, using kitten licks to collect his built-up arousal around the slit. His hand gripped your hair tighter as he sighed from your motions, pleased that you were complying. Flashing doe eyes at him, you ran your tongue up and down his cock, placing kisses along the way and paying special attention to the throbbing veins around the side. He let out a low growl as you captured his heavy balls in your mouth, popping them in and out of your swollen lips. The intimate, sweet way you worshipped his dick was perfect.

"Angel..." He grunted, pulling your head back and signaling for you to stop teasing him. You sat up straighter and kissed his sticky tip one last time before gently taking it into your mouth and sucking slowly, working your way down to the base while swirling your tongue around his length. You looked up to see him flushed, now groaning in heat from the way you passionately sucked him off like a lover—not to mention how well you were taking him despite his big size. "Mmmm—you're doing so g-good...God y-you little—a-ahh—"

Fyodor threw his head back in ecstasy, your small bobbing motions and the sloppy sounds making him breathe heavily, both of your eyes clouded over with pure lust. Watching him become weak under your tongue was gratifying to say the least—you were clenching your thighs together, sure the viewers could see the wet spot on your thin shorts. His cock felt heavenly in your mouth, but you really wanted him in your—

He pushed your head flush against his pelvis, and it took everything in you to not gag from the abrupt intrusion as his tip poked the back of your throat. "I'm close, take it a-all, milaya—" Fyodor's groans got louder as you slowly pulled away, sucking along what you could and using your hands to pump whatever was left. You hummed along his cock, the vibrations making him close his eyes and tug on your hair, tears forming and starting to run down your face. He heaved deeply as he opened his eyes to look down at your pretty face, stroking your soft skin adoringly. You could tell he was close, so you moved closer to his tip, running your tongue across his sensitive slit, driving him over the edge. A deep grunt followed by the twitching motions of his aching cock were your final warnings as you got into a better position to follow his commands. You sturdied yourself against his thighs as his cum spilled down into your throat, making you moan.

Fyodor pulled your strands harshly, angling your head to ensure not even a single drop leaked out, making you lightheaded from the lack of air from what felt like being held still for forever. You turned to the camera, opening your mouth to prove you swallowed it all, and cleaning the residual cum on your mouth with your fingers before sucking them clean, the sight getting Fyodor hard again. Your lewd actions prompted a deep laugh from the dark-haired man, who was breathing heavily and busy coming down from the heaven you'd just sent him to, "My angel has quite a dirty mouth on her, doesn't she? You seem more like a succubus to me."

You simpered cheekily, stripping what was left of your floral lace set, teasing Fyodor and reveling in his intense gaze. You slowly rose up and sat in his lap, purposely pressing your ass against his stomach and spreading your folds with your fingers, teasing his tip with your entrance, making you hiss in lust. "Hey, Fyodor, can you put it insid—"

You were cut off with a harsh slap to your pussy and a rough yank on your hair, making you squeal in pain and pushing you back down against his chest. Fyodor pulled your hair at an upwards angle to face him, glaring into your lively eyes and inciting fear into them. "Don't forget I'm the one that's in control, shlyukha." His warning sent shivers throughout your body, and you nearly screamed when you felt him thrust into you, walls tightening around him, and you choked as he pushed deeper inside you, body stiff from how he just punished you. You gasped as he relentlessly filled you up with his length and stretched your spasming cunt—which you were sure was lewdly squeezing around him on camera. You could feel your eyes running again as he bottomed out in you—touching spots that even your biggest toys couldn’t reach.

He only smirked as he heard your whines and whimpers, which he knew would soon be replaced by pleasured cries because of how wet you got from giving him a blowjob. He kissed your tears away before guiding your hips back and forth on his cock, being more gentle and placing more kisses down from your ear to your neck. Upon hearing soft moans leave your lips, Fyodor drew small circles on your puffy clit, using his free hand to clasp your hands behind your back. Smirking after feeling you start to ride him to meet his thrusts, he playfully bit your ear, "Ha, I knew deep down you were just a sinful little slut."

More tears fell from your eyes as you felt Fyodor's dick reach your g-spot, the sensation sending a burning fire through your body. It was intense, much more so than anything you'd done solo. It was like all you could focus on was him, how rough yet passionately he was fucking you, how your head was full of his sultry, deep voice only, and how stuffed you were of his cock. You could feel yourself starting to unravel, moaning loudly as Fyodor pinched your sensitive nipples while gingerly kissing and nipping at your hickies.

"F-Fyodor, you're so m-mean". You murmured, the different sensations making you quiver under his touch. The blinding pleasure lolled your head forward, your front strands of hair covering your eyes, but you could still see Fyodor's magenta orbs cutting into yours through your peripheral, holding an intimidating expression.

His fingers swiped some stray layers to the side, his panting breath fanning over the shell of your ear, "I never said I was a nice man, milaya." You bit your lip after feeling him kiss under your ear, his gentle touches mixed with his unrelenting assault on your pussy driving you to your climax. Fyodor smiled as he felt you squeezing his cock so desperately and watched how your eyes fluttered, lashes wet from your tears but still framing your eyes so beautifully. "You're close, aren't you, angel? It's fine, let it all out on camera. Let everyone see how indecent you are." His finger circled faster around your clit and he groaned feeling you clench around his length again. "Show your loyal fans how much you love being fucked by a stranger." Another faint bite to your neck paired with a particularly rough thrust sent you over the edge. Juices dripping down from the spot your bodies connected, you cried out from the force of your orgasm washing over you.

Sighing from relief, Fyodor slowed your bouncing movements with slow strokes to bring you down from your high. Catching your breath again, you turned to face your cyberstalker, eyes dreamily looking at him, secretly tugging on his cold heart. You brought your face up, yearning to kiss him, but he only tilted your chin down and kissed your forehead instead, making you pout as he stared at you blankly. "I-I can't kiss you?" You asked, suddenly shy. Fyodor exhaled slowly, finding your faux innocence adorable. He didn’t tell you, but he wasn’t the type of man that enjoyed tasting himself on his lips—it was dirty, and that type of sinfulness was reserved for you and your lips only.

"So needy...this isn't enough for you, my angel?" You yelped as he roughly pulled you down on his member and came inside of you, the abrupt warmth flooding your insides and drawing a low moan from you. Fyodor kissed your neck before letting your restricted hands go and shutting your laptop to end the livestream. His phone buzzing made him turn his head, and he calmly moved to pull out of your snug cunt. He grunted as he felt your pussy gripping onto his cock tightly, trying to milk him completely dry. You whimpered when he finally pulled out, feeling empty and stretched out, already missing him pounding your walls as his cum flowed out of you, coating your plush inner thighs and staining your previously spotless couch.

He kissed your reddened cheek to offer some aftercare and sat up from the couch, grabbing his discarded clothes from the floor and putting them back on.

"You're leaving, Fyodor?" You looked up at the man, now fully clothed and checking his phone. He gave you an unreadable smile and glanced at you longingly.

"Yes, milaya. I have business to attend to." He pet the top of your hair gently before walking past your figure. Hearing you huff in disappointment, he looked back and smirked, "I may come back sometime, though, angel. If you beg me nicely enough..." Your eyes sparkled upon hearing his words, which almost made him go back for another round. He held a hand out to signal his leave and disappeared, walking out the door like a ghost, like he didn't just break in arrive, leaving you with your cold dinner.

♱ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

Exiting your apartment complex, Fyodor grinned arrogantly upon seeing the livestream recording that had successfully downloaded onto his phone. You didn't know, but he'd already hacked into your laptop before visiting and made the stream private—there was no way he'd let anyone watch him corrupt his pretty angel.

Now all he had to do was watch and wait. Wait for his angel to summon the demon she had sinned for again.

[reverseexorcist]

★ 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 ★

"If it's alright could I request Carmilla Carmine x a fem reader who's a fallen angel? Like maybe they met during extermination and got their wings ripped off for not wanting to kill Carmilla's kids or they were already in hell with Carmilla for some time before the extermination? If you don't want to do this that's totally fine, and sorry if this isn't how to request stuff :)."

Honestly, with how this ended, I'm really tempted to write a much fluffier part 2 to this

Part 2 ↫ Right here

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,462 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, descriptions of gore/blood, canonical Lute slander (sorry Lute), romantic or platonic wasn't requested so I went with platonic to fit the story more (if the requester wants romantic just feel free to ask me), mother mode Carmilla (she might be a bit ooc because of this),

Oh wow.

Oh wow were you shaking.

You couldn't tell if it was from the excitement or the nerves - Probably both if you were being honest with yourself, but you couldn't shake off the vibrating feeling tingling beneath your skin that made you want to fly laps around heaven. Your stomach was doing flips, but you led mask only reflected your nearly psychopathic grin and twitching eye.

Even after your lieutenant Lute shot you a stern look, no doubt pissed off because you couldn't sit still for five goddamn seconds, you still couldn't resist fidgeting with your spear. It was sparkly, and somewhat heavy, and a murderous weapon that was entirely yours! It was also cold, freezing almost. Even against your gloves it made your palms feel numb and seemed to shine in sync with your own valiant excitement.

Baby's first extermination, basically. While the name certainly sounded scary, you'd been waiting for this day for six months (you and the other forty-five cadets in your platoon) and you were ready to do your best! Sure, you were still technically a rookie, hanging around the flock and bringing up the rear of the exorcists, but this was how you proved yourself to rise the ranks, right?

Your heart stopped beating in your chest when you finally reached the front. Holy shit, that was the high seraphim! Sera, right? Oh wow, she really was much much taller in person, towering above the clustering sea of black and white murderous intent. Her outward vibe was motherly and caring, but you could see the glint of distain, guilt and regret sparking in the deepest depths of her eyes. Which was confusing, because you were doing a good thing, right? Ridding the divine planes of sinners irredeemable souls.

The thoughts crowded your mind - Evil, twisted monsters crawling around like bugs in the brimstone crowded crevices of hell. You could only imagine the satisfaction of killing your first hell spawn.

It would have to be cool no doubt. Something big with lots of teeth and claws and that could breathe fire! You had to come home with a cool story to brag about. You'd heard the tales from all your superiors. From everyone including the first man Adam himself, your respectably awesome (if a little terrifying) lieutenant Lute, to the other lieutenants like Michael and Gabriel. You'd have to off a demon built like a mountain to get their attention.

And by the big man himself, you were going to do it. Even if it took you a hundred years, you could already see yourself commanding a group just like yours, bearing a helmet with horns big and curved and bold, black stripes stippled along your ivory wings.

With a very particular pep in your step, you saluted the high seraphim Sera respectively, head cocked up just so you could regard her kindly warmth in fullness. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, and although she swiftly sent you on your way with the rest of your platoon, you couldn't help but let your nerves sway your resolve ever so slightly.

It didn't matter though! You unfurled your wings with perhaps a bit too much of a dramatic flair, but with your spear in hand and helm polished so it shined with malevolent glory, you kicked off without a second thought, tailing right behind where you were supposed to be.

Your first impression of hell was the heat.

With the extermination already well under way, raging fires were already burning up half of the city sending whorls of smog up into the air. You easily battered it away with a few strong flaps of your wings. With your head on the swivel, your eagle-eyes peered around the desolate land for the forms of the sinners struggling to thrive below, silhouettes hidden by the thick layer of smoke and ash blanketing the landscape.

Lieutenant Lute furled out her wings below you, a screeching war cry echoing throughout the battlefield as she all but left your rookie platoon in the metaphorical dust. The sound itself only spurred you on, itching for the blood of a demon on the blade of your angelic spear. Without a second thought, you tucked your wings to you sides and dived below, headfirst into the fray.

Billowing flames licked past you harmlessly, though they burned like hell (which seemed rather apt, considering where you). You didn't falter, flying through the embers like a goddamn phoenix ready to cleanse the realm sprawled out beneath you. The solid wingbeats of two of your fellow cadets only strengthened your resolution, a holy fire burning in your soul - An itch to clear the filth of devil scum away. This was the chaotic strength that your captain had sought to build in you, and now you were finally able to act on it.

But everywhere you looked, you only found simple, humanoid souls running and screaming in terror. Eyes wide, half-dead or bloodied beyond belief as they scrambled to find shelter from the onslaught of exorcists like yourself. Nowhere could you see the mangled forms of the demons you'd been taught to slaughter. Descriptions from your seniors before you passed through your mind - 'gleaming eyes with with wrath and lust', 'gangly limbs twisted to an unholy form', 'mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth, and claws like knives'.

You faltered, confused. The words of Lute rang out in your mind.

"Of course, it's not like they can actually hurt you. You're all warriors, the toughest, just use your spears to stab the shit out of them!"

You were alone now. You couldn't hear the comforting sounds of your fellow rookies behind you anymore. They were well in front of you now, peering around with a similar confusion to yours. But to your absolute horror, they simply shrugged their shoulders and dived forward with bloodlust evident in their glowing white masks. Silver points of spears were jammed through the heads of the terrified demons below. But were they demons? They didn't look like them at all. Every single book you'd seen depicting demons drew them as eldritch monsters with too many eyes to count, tentacles and claws and fangs with nary but bloodlust and vile thoughts hidden within their slitted eyes.

But the demons in front of you looked just like people. You could see the way their faces contorted in terror. You could see them scrambling to help what you could only assume were friends and family, pulling them along and carrying the ones who couldn't run for themselves. You could only feel your heart fall as you watched one of your best friends land on top of a sinner already crushed by rubble, turquoise skin stained red. The begged and pleaded and cried, but their voice was silenced as the spearhead sunk into their skull.

You flinched. The world around you ignored you completely, and for once, you were completely happy to go unnoticed.

Shakily, you touched-down in a nearby street. It was littered with already oozing corpses, but other than that it was peacefully empty. At least here the sounds of violence and pain and terror was muffled, far away enough that you could at least try to distance yourself and get your breathing under control.

You barely reeled in a gag as the smell of blood invaded your senses.

Was this really what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? You could still see yourself in your mind's eye, a model exorcist like your lieutenant now leading her own platoon into another extermination. Maybe this would be a one off, just a shock to the system that would get your mind reworked into killing mode. But, the more you thought about it, the more your heart clenched in pain and terror that seemingly matched the suffering souls around you. You were an agent of heaven, you thought you were killing mindless monsters, not those with human souls! Sure, there were probably shitty people fucking around down here, but what about all those who had to sin in self defence?

A chorus of startled gasps startled you out of your panic ridden stupor. Your wings flared up, trying to make yourself look bigger, more threatening as you wheeled around. The spear in your hands looked more like a prop at this point, and it was clear that you had minimal idea how to use it inside a proper battle. But still, you fumbled with it and pointed it threateningly in the direction of the two demons that had appeared right behind you.

They clutched each other, stumbling backwards and further away from the danger of your angelic weapon. One of them placed an arm in front of the other, her eyes narrowing behind her red-tinted glasses as if she was both terrified by you, but was daring you to do something about it.

But still, you could see them shaking from where you stood. They both seemed rooted to the ground, the one with platinum blonde hair refused to take her eyes off of you, but the demon behind her (maybe her sister? A friend?) was looking around nervously.

You could see yourself reflected in those crimson specs, and for once it made you freeze. You'd seen yourself in uniform plenty of times before, the steel boots and guard gloves and the led, horned helmet, but it always seemed almost comforting before. When you were surrounded by your cohorts, it made you fit in. Out here, you realised, you were the monster.

The ever-present smile on your mask shrunk, falling into a grimace as your grip on your weapon tightened. Your wings drew in, you shrunk backwards, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process of trying your hardest to get away. You never wanted to scare people.

So drowned by your own confusion and fear and reckless thoughts of worry about the future that you didn't notice the confusion growing the faces of the demons in front of you turn into abject horror as a far more ominous silhouette grew behind you.

"I thought I taught you not to hesitate," Lute growled in your ear, placing her free hand on your shoulder and digging her fingers in till your were sure a bruise was marred into your skin. You didn't respond, couldn't even if you wanted to. The trembling that rattled you only grew stronger, and you fumbled as your hands cramped painfully. With a resounding clatter, your spear dropped from your grasp an on to the brazen brimstone floor.

Lute growled.

She didn't say anything, but she knew. The both of you knew by now. You couldn't kill a sinner.

Lute didn't even hesitate before shoving you to the ground. Your head collided with solid stone painfully even with your helmet on, stars shining behind your eyes as her words blurred together as she pressed her foot firmly between your shoulder blades. Your wings shivered and spread involuntarily, and you feared the moments that would come next. Lute was unpredictable, but this could only end with bloodshed.

The two girls still hadn't moved, transfixed in horror as they watched the scene in front of them play out.

Asphalt stung your hands and you tried to claw your way to freedom, fingertips digging into the scorched Earth as you started crying. Lute, however, was stronger than you. Of course she was, she'd been doing this for centuries, and you were still a fledging on her first trip out of heaven.

You never thought it would end like this.

Lute dug her fingers into your wings, tangling into your still downy feathers before she yanked with all her might. The scream she tore from your lips was hellish, agonising, yet the blended with the sounds of violence all around you. You were sure you blacked out several times throughout the process, but by the time your old lieutenant was done with you, barely anything but feathery stumps and golden blood remained of your wings.

You could only curl up, cry and watch as Lute tossed clumps of feathers aside as she stalked toward the two demons that still hadn't had the thought to run. And for the first time in your life, you felt sorry for the sinners that populated hell's ring of wrath.

She would make them suffer, that was for sure. If she was happy enough to tear of another angel's wings, you could only imagine what she would do to a sinner. You didn't want to imagine, and your mind was fuzzy enough that you thankfully didn't have to.

The sound of something sharp rang throughout the air. It made you groan in pain, the sound piercing your ears and making your brain rattle in your skull. Sharp - 'Tink tink tink tink tink.' If you could see the look of relief coming across the demons faces, a part of you might've urged Lute to run. Only, she had just torn your wings off with little qualm, and now you had no shits left to give if she lived or not.

The exorcist never got the chance to strike, her weapon torn from her hands and thrown across the street till it collided with a bloody body. Lute herself barely had time to react before she was struck over the head once, then twice in rapid succession. A whirlwind of white and angelic steel and pure fury launched herself in the path between the two demons and the exorcist. It was almost exhilarating to watch, seeing Lute strike out with her fists in a pathetic attempt of hand to hand combat against her new foe. Whoever they were, they were really fucking fast, almost too fast for you to keep up with.

The fight was over before it started. Without her weapon, Lute couldn't do much against the sinner she was pitted against, and as ruthless as she was, she knew when a battle was lost. In a flurry of black and white feathers, she fled. And then the newcomer's attention was shifted to you.

At this point, you would've welcomed death. The pain alone was making you drift slightly, and you didn't even have the energy left to groan when whoever nudged you slightly with something hard and cold.

"Mother.." The words were so soft, floating away from your ears.

"We need to leave." It was undoubtably her. That voice was the one who beat Lute into the ground.

"What about..?" That was the one who called out for mother.

"Won't she tattle?" So that had to be her sister.

Those words sent a dose of adrenaline through you. With as much strength as you could muster, you clawed yourself into an upwards position. You could feel the clotting blood running down your back, but if you were going to die, you at least wanted to do so with some dignity.

Shakily, with much more effort than was really desired, you reached up and peeled your helmet off.

It clattered noisily like glass against the floor, and suddenly the world was much brighter, much more red and the air was laced with more sulphur and death than you could imagine. But what really surprised you was the look of shock written across the sinner's face.

She was tall. Really tall. The only person who could really compete was Seraphim Sera or maybe Adam, but you really couldn't tell with how delirious you were.

"Una niña?" They all looked surprised.

The one called mother took a few steps forward, confusion and anger clearly present in her eyes. But, as she kneeled down in front of your comparatively tiny form, you realised the anger wasn't directed at you.

"Did she try to hurt you?" She turned back to face her daughters. They both shared a look, but ultimately shook their heads no. That right there, was your saving grace.

She looked back at you, hair pinned into high horns, and took your helmet in her large hands. She passed it off to one of her daughters, before gently scooping you into her hold.

You whined, writhing minutely in her hold as the searing phantom pain of your wings being torn off returned. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, and yet the demoness tutted softly, shushing you like you were a baby.

Her daughters followed without a word, and you and the family unit moved swiftly through the desolate roads. So many questions were running through your mind, and yet you couldn't find the answer to any of them, your thoughts to lost to the fog of blood loss to ever truly return.

"You better not betray me," Were the last words you heard before promptly passing out.

The plushness of a soft blanket was the first thing you felt waking up. For a moment, you felt nothing but relief realising the entire thing had been a horrid nightmare, but when you tried to rustle the numbness out of your wings, the relief was replaced with horror when you realised that your wings were just straight up missing, only two feathery stumps remaining in their place.

That made you shoot up in horror. You didn't even care about the sharp sting that ran down your spine and into your very being, you were a bit too concerned about your current predicament.

"You're awake."

That made you promptly scream before ducking under the covers like you were a nestling again. A soft sigh reached your ears, but you dared not to venture out from the warmth of the thick covers.

Not like you had a choice, though, as you were soon pried away from their safety. It was her, the demoness with the high-pinned buns. She looked down on you, red eyes glowing in the low light, and yet, you couldn't sense a smidge of hatred towards you. Only distrust and sadness laced her expression.

"How old are you?" She asked after the silence had gone on long enough.

"I'm a fledgling," Is all you said. You didn't really fancy giving too much information. Although, the look of horror the crossed her face maybe suggested that you'd already given away plenty.

"Obligan a los niños a hacer esto?" She raised a hand and carded it through her snowy tresses, locks of white hair threaded loose as she paced back and forth. You only watched her, slowly sinking back into the comfort of the warm blankets.

"You're still a child." It was a statement.

You hated being a child. You didn't want to be a child, at least, you hadn't wanted to be a child in the past. You wanted to join the ranks of the exorcists, and to do that you at least needed to be juvenile. Hell, you were lucky enough to make it into the cadets while you still had baby feathers decorating your wings. But now, the fact that yes, you were still technically a kid made your saviour look upon you with more than just disdain and hatred like any other exorcist, but rather she looked upon you with an emotion that you'd never seen before, and not one you could really name.

"You are a child, and now you have fallen," She eyed your mostly healed wing stumps, and you couldn't help but reflexively flex them anxiously. The literal weight off your back made you want to cry.

"Was this your first extermination?" She gazed upon you with a guarded look. You nodded.

"And you didn't hurt my daughters?" Another nod from you. That seemed to make her relax just a tad.

"Could you ever hurt someone?" That made you pause, the memories of the extermination rushing back to you full force. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes, and still, you answered with a simple 'no'.

She exhaled a sigh of relief before closing the distance and kneeling down to your eye level.

"Carmilla Carmine." She reached a hand out toward you. So that was her name.

You clutched your hands close to your chest, fearing her touch, but gave her your name anyway.

"What are you gonna do with me?" You asked, voice cracking. Her gaze softened, finally letting her guard slip for just a moment.

"Well, you weren't going to make it out there by yourself. You'll be staying with me," The words took a moment to sink into your mind. Well, at least it was better than death.

Gently, like she was working with a scared animal, Carmilla coaxed you out from the comfort of the bed, slowly ushering you to her side. With your wings missing and their remains bandaged, head bare and missing your exorcist helmet, it felt like the safest place in the world.

"Welcome to Hell."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[cursedtrans]

Ryoshu and the Fingers

Ryoshu is ingrained into the five fingers of the Backstreets. While it's something hinted at with her identity background, it's something repeatedly jammed into your head by how she acts and behaves, and her knowledge of certain things.

Ryoshu is obviously connected with the Ring, what with them also being insane artists who love working with blood and human bodies, but what about the other fingers? She can connect with each of them, ESPECIALLY through ideologies, though you have to squint for some points.

Middle should be obvious once you connect the dots with family, and how Ryoshu reacts to a Middle Big Brother by immediately preparing to die. While it's obvious she knows of them, saying she's connected to them might seem extreme. But she shows the same respect to the idea of family as the Middle does, even if it's more traditional then them. She reacts harshly to Outis dissing Eunbong, and overall has extremely protective instincts with those she deems close to herself, such as with Sinclair or her entire Edgar identity.

The Thumb has one straight connection, Kurokumo, and quite a number of other ones. Kurokumo is a Thumb subsidiary, and Ryoshu has a three star identity based on a Wakashu of their ranks. Thus, there shouldn't be any doubt that she could belong to them. But in idealogy she also shows the 'respect' that the Thumb value so highly. She's one of the few 'rowdy' sinners (most notably Heath, Ish, and Don) who we know are fine with Vergilius, knowing the name of his sword Gladius, and is also lacking a truly 'rebellious' identity. The closest you can get is her Yurodivye, and even that shows an adherence to the Saint above her.

The Index is where things get extremely difficulty, and honestly is fairly loose and hard to solidly confirm. We've yet to see them show up in Limbus in any regard, and it's absolutely the most esoteric of the fingers (at least until we see Pinky and find out more about them.) That said, she still holds tight to their core value of "follow orders and the will of the collective", and their overall value of...having weird values. Her overall approach to art and violence is extremely bizarre, seen in only a few weirdos of the city like the Ring, but she still tends to follow the group as shown by not having a very rebellious identity. Her going along with activities like the pedaling and volleyball, and especially jumping at cooking is another good example of her following the group's example.

The Pinky is something that I wanna dedicate it's own post to because it's something I think has major hints thanks to it's portrayal in her art and the symbolism of fingers in general. Rest assured though, if the Pinky does line up with my theories, it could rival the Ring in significance to Ryoshu.

Additionally, there's some things that are almost universal to the Fingers as a whole that I'd like to discuss, because Ryoshu hits those universal themes as well. First off is the theme of dedication to something other than yourself. While the Thumb hits it the hardest, each of the Fingers has something they hold in the highest regard. Authority, The City itself, Family, and Art are each individually held with the same fervent loyalty that they derive their deranged lunacy from. The violent acts they perform are never meaningless, and they always have some reason for killing someone.

Ryoshu herself seems to hold this regard, most notably in her regards to smoking. It's a blink and you'll miss it detail, but her smoking is done as result of the violence she perpetuates. There's a great post by @pm-my-beloved and @lu-is-not-ok about it and pride in general, buried deep under a lot of back and forth analysis, but in general her smoking seems to be a mix of taking in satisfaction for the kill and respect for the dead.

The other uniting theme is one that take place over time, and that is assimilation of one's identity into the Finger. Note that while there is a lot of characters in the PMoonverse, it feels very difficult to hold distinction within the individual fingers once you're a full blown member. You are nothing more than another Little Sister or Maestro, and it's something unavoidable except for the very top, the person who likely carved the finger from their own identity to enforce their ideologies and morals onto others.

Ryoshu herself is someone that has been assimilated. Put her in a Maestro outfit and you'd find someone unrecognizable from the deranged insanity of Jumsoon or his fellows. She is someone so hardly recognizable from the Ring that it's the main thing people brought up upon seeing her.

That's what I think a major part of her character arc will be. The main character arc for Yan, another major Finger member, was trying to break free from the assimilation of the Index. Unfortunately, he faltered at the realization of how encompassing the ideologies of the Index are. Ryoshu herself is at a worse position, being under the idealogies of all of the Fingers, but we'll have to wait and see if she can form her own identity. Unguided by morals, maybe she can finally create a painting of heaven...

[hismercytomyjustice]

Happy Tuesday, friends! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

I’ve decided to do weekly sneak peeks for the upcoming chapters of my Alastor Rut fic, Give Me Your Sins, too!

Is Tuesday too early for Saturday updates? What do you think?

Preview of chapter two (of five) below! Hope you enjoy!

📻🍎📻🍎📻🍎📻🍎

Alastor carefully folded Lucifer’s coat and set it on the hinged ottoman at the foot of the bed before starting on his waistcoat and dress shirt next.

Everything was treated with the utmost care and he folded everything with military precision. Huh. If he ever decided to settle down, he’d have potential partners clamoring for his homemaking skills between this and the cooking alone.

Alastor pressed soft kisses to each new patch of skin that was bared, causing Lucifer’s heart to do strange little flips in his chest.

Fuck. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t to be…taken care of?

If he was being honest with himself, he’d fully expected to end this with a chunk or two of flesh missing.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so…attentive to him? He wasn’t sure anyone ever had, to be honest. He was used to being the one lavishing affection on others. Not receiving it.

Alastor helped him out of his pants next, though he left him in his boxers, not even commenting on how they had little green and red apples printed across them. He leaned down after, pressing his face to the side of Lucifer’s throat and taking a slow breath in.

“You smell divine.”

He frowned. Was that supposed to be an insult? No…he sounded sincere. His throat became oddly tight as Alastor pressed more kisses along the side of it, his arms loosely settling around his waist.

Lucifer’s eyes slid closed as he tried to banish the unexpected wave of emotion.

Fuck, why was Alastor of all people the first to treat him like this? Like something to be treasured?

The Sinner leaned back, cupping his cheek as he met his eyes. “Are you all right, my dear?”

Lucifer blinked, surprised to feel hot tears skirt down his cheeks.

“H-Huh?”

Alastor chased each with his tongue. “You’re crying. Am I upsetting you?”

He shook his head, embarrassment flooding him. “No. No, I just…wasn’t expecting all of this. I’ve never…”

Alastor tilted his head as he regarded him. “Been worshipped?”

His eyes widened at that. “Uh…”

“Well, allow me to remedy that,” he murmured, pressing his lips to his in an agonizingly sweet kiss. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t,” he added after, still close enough their lips brushed with each word.

“I…” He swallowed hard. “No, it’s…it’s nice. So long as it’s what you want to do…?”

“It is,” he answered matter-of-factly, like Lucifer did deserve something like this.

Fuck.

Oh, this was a terrible fucking idea. If only because of how much it was bound to hurt when Alastor inevitably came back to his senses and never wanted anything to do with him again.

[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

Hello everyone, anyone here want a Dainsleif theory? Because I think I just figured out about 2/3rds of what went down in the Cataclysm regarding Dainsleif

Specifically why the Abyss Sibling blames Dain for the Cataclysm, while Dain blames the Five Sinners

Now a lot of this hinges around the datamined volumes of the Pale Princess and the Six Pigmies so if you want to wait, spoilers below the cut:

Hello everyone who is still here.

So when the Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies came out, every theories I know was quick to say this was about the five sinners+ Dain and I agree, and what I’m going to do is fit that in with the new Dain lore we got in the wings.

This story starts with these paragraph in the Xbox wings:

This moment where the Abyss sibling is coming down and Dain is going up. Where they accidentally meet when Dain is trying to save his brother with the four other sinners is this moment from the six Pygmies:

Notice how they save Vedrfolnir first? The one Dain was trying to save?

Them then having to save the rest of the Pygmies has me suspicious that Dains rescue attempt did not go as smoothly as he had hoped.

Now what else happened? What was the noble deed? What is this paragraph all about?

Well, I think it’s this moment :

Now why did they do this? Before we get in to it, let me clear something up. The Prince of light is the abyss sibling in this allegory. They are the one from beyond the moon, who saves the kingdom, and is taking the Pale Princess with them. (Now why not the Traveler? Because the traveler is “Greatest foe who wields the sword that heralds the dawn” from the Night mothers prophecy at the end)

So now we know it’s the abyss sibling who’s getting betrayed here…the question is why? Didn’t they save them?

Well I think it has something to do with the abyss sibling and the traveler planning to leave eventually.

As we see from the Pygmies:

We know Khaenri’ah was obsessed with summoning a descender since the days of Perinheri. And now the abyss sibling want so leave, when they are the solution to this great problem.

And you know what Dain says about the sinners?

You know who just absorbed the abyss? The Abyss sibling.

And the Pygmies plans to use the prince :

The Shrunken Pygmy is probably Rhinedottir who used the power taken from the abyss sibling to make those abyssal monsters like Rifthounds that end up getting out of control (RIP Durin)

So the five sinners and Dain, because I’m sorry Dain you took some, the Six Pygmies is very clear that even if the disfigured Pygmy didn’t want to do so out of guilt, he didn’t stop it and seems to have agreed (since he gets cursed too)

Now you might be wondering, why? Did they think they were getting descender powers and instead got the abyss that got absorbed?

And I think the answer is yes. But not just yes, they thought they were getting descender powers. I think they actually did get descender powers.

Because isn’t it odd that only one of the siblings is a descender? And what does Dain call this power they stole from the “princes”/“abyss sibling”

Huh what could a world-shattering power be? Perhaps something to “rival an entire world”?

And as I said before, Khaenri’ah really, really wanted a descender.

So it seems like the six Pygmies (five sinners plus Dain) stole the abyss siblings descender powers for themselves…

And wait a second this sounds familiar…

The gnosis

Not to say they created the seven gnosis, but instead that they created six of their own, already corrupted with the abyss the abyss sibling had absorbed. But if we are comparing six parts to seven, should have been a fraction more powerful then those the gods wielded.

The arrogation of mankind cannot stand.

No wonder the Heavenly Principles called as many archons to Khaenri’ah as they could.

(I’m at the photo limit on this post so bear with me)

Dain is angry the sinners did not defend Khaenri’ah…and yet the sibling blames him for being unable to handle the problem by themselves. Why?

Let’s turn to the Raiden Shogun (specifically Ei’s) voice lines

“I'm fearful because of what I witnessed five hundred years ago — her demise and that thing. But, if... If it were you, everyone would be safe. You would've saved the world.”

The traveler would have saved the world huh?

Well of course, it should have been no problem for a descender…oh wait.

The five sinners (plus Dain) took the descenders powers.

No matter they should be able to defeat it if they all world together right?

But only Dain showed up.

This is why the sibling blames Dain for failing to stop it, Dain had a fraction of their powers and failed, proving those powers should never have been taken in the first place.

And why Dain blames the sinners, because if they had just worked together perhaps they could have stopped it.

But there’s still one more problem with this theory, the abyss sibling is recorded in Irminsul.

But you know what happens at the end of the Six Pygmies?

“Devastated, the pygmy wandered around in sorrow and regret. He hid the body in a tree hole and walked off alone into the night, and into a self-imposed exile.”

Dainsleif puts the body of the Abyss sibling in a tree.

Dainsleif, the Bough-keeper, put the Abyss sibling into Irminsul. He wrote them into the world. Why? Probably to bring them back in a way that allows them to still walk about Teyvat and cause trouble for us.

This also explains why Rukkhadevata was called back to tend to the tree and not sent to Khaenri’ah. What if the source of the corruption she had to make Nahida and erase herself to overcome, the forbidden knowledge’s heart…is the corrupted body of the abyss sibling that Dain wrote into the world?

(This might be why the Fatui want to burn Irminsul, a Homa cleansing ritual for the abyssal corruption written into it when it accepted the corrupted Abyss sibling).

Now we have come to the end of the theory and you might be wondering, but wait. This is leaving out one crucial character: if the abyss sibling is the light prince, the traveler is the Greatest Foe, and the Pygmies the sinners and Dain…aren’t we missing a few crucial characters?

And yes. We are.

Most likely, the Night mother is the Heavenly Principles. There is a chance she’s the Abyss itself. But i suspect she’s the heavenly principles what with the curse she puts on the Pale Princess’ people.

And there’s our main problems. Because the Pale Princess reveals something very crucial about this story:

We are missing a major player from the Cataclysm.

Who is she?

Easy answer? Probably Paimon. Or whoever Paimon was before she became small.

Other options: Angelica , either symbolically (the abyss sibling loved freedom above all else, hence the fear they would leave) or as I’ve theorized before Angelica herself could be an angel/envoy who went to Khaenri’ah once and is currently a “horse adeptus” from Moonlite bamboo forest (remember how the Pale Princess is from the Moonlite Forest?)

Fun option: somehow related to the Tsarista, aka a lover she lost in the Cataclysm. The Seele to her Bronya (if that is the direction they end up going with her).

Option that has many pieces I need to think on: Renova has a lot of motifs that look like Arlecchino and I’ve seen theories the Crimson Moon Dynasty worshiped the moon before realizing it was a god. That god might be the pale Princess (Renova or Istaroth) who despite not being worshiped was still around.

[mlsofh]

Theory Five - Alastor and Lilith

Hello Wayward Sinners! I HAVE AN EARLY ACCESS TO EPISODES ONE AND TWO. THIS HAS SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT!!

Oh my god I cannot begin to tell you all how much the gears in my head have been absolutely turning. I noticed in the second episode of Hazbin Hotel that Vox mentions in him and Alastor's song that he's also been conveniently gone for seven years. The same amount of time that Lilith has been gone. Of course, this could be a stretch, but I think Lilith and Alastor have a deal together. Lets get into my super theory. The first theory I had was the fact that I think Alastor isn't just there at the Hotel for entertainment. I think he's actually there to stay protected for the most part. He knows how powerful Charlie must be, she's the princess of hell, and if he makes himself useful to her then he'll be protected. We heard that Vox almost got beat by Alastor. Alastor then supposedly fled the scene (My thought being from Vox's line "The demon is a coward.") I think Alastor may have bitten off more than he could chew against the three V's and fled. Alastor knows modern media is incredibly strong. We know Vox can traverse through technology, and seven years ago in Hazbin Hotel (2021) would be 2014. 2007-2014 was the age where we saw technology skyrocket. Especially in tablets, computers, smart TVs, etc. Hell seems to only just now be really getting caught up to what's happening on Earth technology wise. Vox probably gained quite a bit of power and Alastor knew he had to be wise with what he did. I think that's why Alastor can't be recorded. I think it will end up messing with his power. Maybe that's how Vox got him last time, was by basically thrusting technology onto Alastor like high tech cameras. Alastor destroys any new technology on sight that has Vox labeled on it. In the scene where Vaggie and Alastor are talking and she almost films him, the lighting is blue. Almost Vox blue. This whole debacle with getting a commercial makes him think of Vox. He's more irritable in this episode than he is in the next. Regarding the background of the situation also, Valentino says "He almost beat you" in their last fight, then Alastor supposedly fled. I think it's more than that too. I think Alastor, while also wanting some safety from the hotel, was given help from Lilith. In turn, he is sent to silently help Charlie. Alastor may have recieved sustainable injuries. Lilith, seeing the power and passion Alastor held, saves his damned soul. Maybe Vox had access to a heavenly weapon of some sort temporarily and did almost kill Alastor. Lilith seeing how powerful Alastor was drags him back to the soil to be made anew. In turn, Alastor made a deal with her. Alastor is in fact not there just for entertainment, he's there to protect Lilith's daughters dream. We now know that Lilith was a loving mother, and a loving queen to hell. She likely put in a safety net for her daughters dreams in case things hit the fan. She saw passion in Alastor and decided he should help. I'd like to also point out Alastor has enough connections to get a commercial on the air, especially whenever Vox seems to own a lot of the overal TV/Electronics industry. Anyway, that's all I have for now. What do you think? Stay Tuned!

[fitpacs]

I'm not usually a big one for headcanons - I'm a bit of a stickler for canon 99% of the time, but I do actually have one headcanon regarding 2b

I like to imagine that a lot of the people on 2b are demons. Like. A Lot. Most of them are probably humans-turned-demons because of their terrible terrible deeds but there were probably a fair few who were born demons and naturally gravitated to an overworld dimension that resembled their home (hell) quite strongly.

Remember how Fit was super chill about the fact that Mouse was a demon? Literally was like oh that's cool so you like fire and shit then? I imagine this is why - because he's really used to being around demons and honestly straight up desensitised to them thanks to a lot of his previous allies having been demons

It also brings up a pretty interesting question regarding Fit's character; if being a terrible human sinner is enough to turn you infernal in this universe, why didn't it happen to Fit? Was he genuinely always a better person than his peers, deep down, despite the things he had to do to survive? Was his goodness inherent? Idk It's fun to think about

OOOOOOOO FIVE I LOVE THIS

if you ever do a more in depth post on this (which you def should) please tag me in it because i love where you’re going with this

[hooffuloftootsierolls]

First time posting my writing on Tumblr ajsdhjsahksdhjf i don't take writing requests, it has to come to me naturally, i just got brave enough to post this. morals are so complicated man

A little bit of background info - "Adam and Emily see each other as family" my beloved - Like Charlie, Emily was created as an infant and had a childhood. Sera was mainly her guardian, but Archangel Michael or Adam would visit her or supervise her when Sera was too busy - Emily is referred to as (the) Silverstar, in the same way Lucifer is (the) Morningstar.

I don't have a title for this it's just "unnamed Emily and Adam writing"

Trigger Warnings: Adam, swearing, mention of murder and blood

“Kid, Adam is busy right now. He’ll talk to you after.” Lute continued to skillfully maneuver Emily back towards the entrance of the lobby in the Exorcist’s building whenever she would try to skirt past the Exorcist.

“Out of- I’m older than you- why won’t you move- let me- I’m trying to-“ Emily tripped over her words as she tried once again to shove past Lute and get to the double doors that lead to the meeting hall. Lute’s pushback was gentle, but Emily could feel the strong muscles of her arm through her shoulder-length glove. She felt the hairs along her arms raise— how had she been so oblivious? Adam had a whole flock of uniformed, lean girls and Emily had never even once wondered why they were all so formal and fit. She felt like such an idiot.

“You’ll have a chance to talk with him after.” Lute repeated more firmly.

“After his army kills more souls?!” Emily cried out. “I want to talk to him to prevent that!”

“Kind words have never worked.” Lute scoffed. “You cannot make Adam call off the Exterminations. Sera has already approved of the mid-year.”

Emily put her hands on Lute’s shoulders, putting her face right in front of Lute’s. The blank white eyes of the lieutenant’s mask widened in surprise. “Please, just listen to me! Those are souls, just like ours! They don’t deserve-“

“Silverstar, with all due respect, sinners are not like our souls. They earned their damnation. They had their chances to reform in life, and they didn’t.”

“But Charlie-“

“That repulsive Hellspawn has gotten into your head!” Lute spat. Emily shrunk back, regretting having brought up the princess. “Her and that traitor girlfriend of hers! They’re trying to corrupt you! To corrupt Heaven’s values! Redemption is not possible, this is the only way to prevent-“

“Fuck, Lute, I was looking everywhere for you-“ The door swung open as a familiar face stepped out. Adam cut himself off, mouth still hanging open, as he met eyes with Emily.

“Oh, thank the Father!” Lute had her guard down in her momentary surprise, and Emily nimbly swept past her, running up to Adam and grabbing him by the hand. “Adam, please, I’m begging you, you need to cancel the Exterminations, I can’t bear to think of—“ Emily choked on what she was about to say, you murdering more human souls, and quickly searched for an alternative— “anybody getting hurt, not if it can be stopped!”

Adam regarded Emily. His mask had never given way to much emotion, and yet the conflict in his face had never been more evident. His expression seemed to flash through the five stages of grief at least 5 times before he sighed and pulled his hand from Emily’s. “Nobody’s getting hurt.” He mumbled.

Emily felt her shoulders sag with relief. “Oh thank you, thank you! I was so worried-“

“Nobody’s getting hurt ever again. We’re going to go down there and make sure those disgusting demon cunts never make it to the pearly gates.”

Emily let out a cry of anguish. “No! No no, you can’t! You can’t hurt them! Don’t hurt Charlie! Don’t hurt her friends! Don’t hurt her people!”

“Sinners aren’t people!” Adam snarled. Emily backed up as the first man unfurled his golden wings. “Sinners lost their humanity when they committed the heinous fucking acts that landed them down there! You can’t hurt them, there’s nothing to fucking hurt!”

“That’s not true!” Emily tried to stifle tears. “They made mistakes, but they’re still people, and people can always change!”

“They can’t change what they did.” Lute added coldly.

Emily wrapped her arms around herself, digging her fingers into her arms. “So how are you any better? You can’t fight fire with fire!”

Adam opened his mouth, face swelling with anger. At Emily’s flinch, Adam closed his mouth again and took a breath, rubbing his temples as he tried to recollect his thoughts. “You just wouldn’t understand. Sinners are hellbent on causing misery. You haven’t been in Hell like me-“

“And how many times have you been in Hell? How long have you been killing without telling me?” Emily curled her lip. “Were the hands you cradled me with when I was just created the same hands I see now, stained with the blood of thousands of damned souls?”

For the first time in this exchange, Adam physically winced. Emily heard his teeth grind together from under his helmet. He opened his mouth and spoke slowly. “There was going to be an uprising.” Emily blinked at him, eyes widening. “They were trying to put together a rebellion. Their demonic magic was growing fucking stronger by the second, and Sera wanted a solution.” Adam balled his hands into a fist. “There was only one way to keep Heaven safe.”

“It- That’s not-” Emily felt a warm tear leak from her eye, emotion welling up inside her heart. Lute walked past her and over to Adam as he put a hand on the door handle.

“I need to prepare. We can talk about this shit after.”

As Adam swung the door open and allowed his lieutenant the courtesy of heading into the meeting hall first, Emily stared after him, expression vacant. “I won’t forgive you.”

Adam’s shoulders rose and his feathers puffed ever so slightly. He didn’t turn to look at her. “Okay.”

He followed Lute through the door and shut it behind him, leaving Emily alone.

Emily stared at the door. In a bright flash of pure light, three white wings stretched out to their full expansion, and three eyes widened. Emily let out a snarling cry as she transfigured to her full angelic form and backed away from the door. She had never felt such rage consume her. “Why does nobody listen to me?!” She spat. She turned heel and fled, fled out the door of the Exorcist’s quarters and took to the sky. Her own feet, her own wings, it seemed to be the only thing she could control anymore. She felt hopeless against her superiors, against their ideals, against her own emotions. Everything she had known seemed to be one big lie. The world was not black and white— so why were their solutions? Not every sinner was an irredeemable spirit of sin and destruction, and not every angel was pure, virtuous and clean. Adam had been playing saint all this time and lying to Emily’s face. She wiped off her eyes as she entered the rotunda to make her way to her quarters, before she collided with someone in the entrance.

“Sorry-“ Emily cut herself off as she looked up at the older seraph.

“Emily! Where were you?” Sera asked tersely.

“With Adam…” she sighed. “I just… I wanted him to… I don’t want him to go through with the Exterminations…” She looked away from Sera’s gaze. “I can’t stand the thought of him…”

Sera sighed. “I know. I don’t like it either.” She guided Emily out of the doorway and into the rotunda.

“Then why do you allow it?” There wasn’t much challenge to the question, rather a forlorn attempt to grasp at some kind of explanation.

“I never would have, had it not been required.” Sera’s answer was pretty much the same as what Adam offered.

Emily sniffed. She swallowed back the response “there has to be another way”, not interested in starting another argument. Besides, Sera had already told her what happens to those who question too much. Instead, she brought up what else was now weighing on her mind. “…I said I wouldn’t forgive him.”

“Hm?” Sera raised an eyebrow.

“I told Adam I wouldn’t forgive him after he came back from the Exterminations.” Emily looked at the ground. “But I want to be able to forgive him. If I refuse to forgive, I’m refusing the idea of people changing.” She squeezed her hands together. “I know he can change. I just don’t want more people to get hurt before then.”

The expression that flashed through Sera’s face was torn and pained. Emily guessed she should get used to loved ones looking at her like that. “I… I do want you to forgive him.” She began. “Though I’m not sure how to feel about your reasoning. People can change, but…” She sighed. “That does not mean they are forgivable.”

Emily grimaced. Why did it have to be so complicated? “Only time will tell.” She hummed. Sera didn’t answer. With a sad glance, Emily made her way past Sera and to her living quarters. She wasn’t going to give in easily. Once Adam got back, they would talk and they would figure things out.

[divider credit]

[semidea7]

First Impression (Huskerdust, Fizzarozzie)

"You know, I was honestly surprised when you told Fizzie about your boyfriend." Asmodeus put his now empty drink back on the table, facing the spider demon. "I can't lie, we were actually a bit worried. We didn't know what to expect." The Sin kept going, his tone way less panicked and concerned than the one Angel had heard on the phone the previous day.

Angel smiled, quite amused by his words. He directed his gaze to Fizzarolli and Husk, who left to order a second round of shots, but were actually engaging in a conversation.

"And now that you've seen him?" Angel asked, eyes still on the two shorties ahead of them, his voice cracking a bit despite his smile. Asmodeus could not know how much Angel valued his judgment, or how much he trusted him.

He had made the mistake to not listen Asmodeus once, and now Valentino had his soul. He would never repeat the same mistake twice, not even regarding foolish matters.

Asmodeus cared for the sinner as well, almost in a paternal way, especially since Angel had grown so close to his Froggie.

"We never meet your dates in a place other than a club." The big demon smiled, leaning with one arm on the table, while only gaining a puzzled look from Angel.

"Yeah, so what?" The sinner asked, not sure what was Asmodeus' point. "Husk likes drinking, but he's not a party person. He prefers a more quite setting where people can actually talk." Angel shrugged, watching over his boyfriend, noticing the smile as the cat tried to follow Fizz's expression and quick talking, the latter looking rather comfortable, which only made Angel's heart flutter.

"Valentino does not know about him, does he?" Asmodeus asked again, his smile still there, but his tone slightly more serious. "I mean, it's clear it's not one of his clients."

'He actually treats you like a human being and does not costantly lash on the money spent on you,' the demon would have added, but Angel's widened eyes already confirmed his suspicion, so there was no need to bring back bad memories.

Angel sighed, finally taking off his attention from Husk, a hand on his cheek, as his smile vanished completely. "I can't let Valentino know about him." He spoke, the anxiety and fear clear in his demeanour and in his words. "I don't know what he could do. So please, don't let him know anything, mh?" the spider asked.

Asmodeus knitted his brows in confusion, and if he didn't know it was just Angel's anxiety speaking, he would have actually got offended.

"Of course I ain't gonna do anything that dumb, sweetheart." The Sin shook his head, sighing. "But are you sure you don't want me to do something for Valentino?" Asmodeus leaned close to Angel, whispering to him.

The spider immediately shook his head, quick to react. "We've already talked about this, of course not!" he looked at him with a stubborn expression.

"You already do so much, always checking on me sending him those threats-"

"But if they don't fucking work!" Asmodeus found himself shouting louder, fists on the table, as the bar grew silent. The Sin's rage was soon replaced by embarassment, especially when his boyfriend came by his side.

"Hey, Ozzie, everything alright?" Fizzarolli asked, cupping his boyfriend's cheeks, as the bigger demon nodded.

Husk was quickly behind Angel as well, his hands on the spider's shoulders, drawing circles on his fur by using his fingers. "What were you talking about?" the cat demon asked, sensing there was something wrong.

At that, Angel and Asmodeus exchanged a look, before both of them laughed. "You got us waiting too long, you mean teases!" Asmodeus cheerfully said, pullying Fizzarolli close to him, taking the imp off guard as he also found himself chuckling.

"We were about to get impatient." Asmodeus kept going, as Fizzarolli rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please, we've left for five minutes." The clown tilted his head, before finding himself accepting a quick peck on his lips.

"Still too long." Asmodeus whispered in that soothing voice of his, making Fizzarolli sweeten his smile.

On the other hand, Husk didn't seem that convinced - Angel knew that by the way his boyfriend was trying to analyze him, as he'd usually do - but he let it slide, shrugging as he sat near Angel, whose eyes lightened up as the cat did so.

"Ya know, this guy is the coolest!" Fizzarolli said, pointing at Husk, before stopping his talking to take the new drinks the waiter brought them, sliding them to the others. "He said if I wanted he could teach me how to play poker." The imp happily said, as Angel returned the smile.

"I mean," Husk accepted Angel's hand as it found his paw, "It's pretty strange you never picked up on the rules while working for the Sin of Greed." Husk pointed out, making Fizzarolli exhale an exhasperated sigh.

"Please, do you think he'd ever let me do something fun while working for him? Hell, no, that bastard" The imp shook his head, looking down as he gripped the glass more tightly.

"Well, it's good you cut ties with him. And I'm glad I met you in person, you aren't as dumb or stuck-up as you appeared in public." Husk went on, looking annoyed as he received a light pat from Angel, who looked quite pissed.

"Did you fucking have to tell him that?" the spider whispered embarassed, before both Asmodeus and Fizzarolli found themselves laughing.

"No, no, it's alright, he's only speaking facts, doll. At least I'm glad you changed your mind on me, cause I kinda like you too, Husk!" Fizzarolli replied, shooting a knowing grin in Angel's direction, the spider rolling his eyes as he smiled at his friend.

"It's just- we didn't expect to see someone like you when Angel suggested to meet up." Asmodeus admitted, cracking a nervous chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck. "How can I say..." he started to gesture, as if to find the right words, before Fizzarolli chipped in with an unamused expression. "Yeah, he usually goes out with dickheads with a dick bigger than their brain, who give dick, but are also dicks, ya follow me?" the imp asked, as Angel narrowed his eyes at him.

"What? I was complimenting you! You certainly upgraded your standards!" Fizzarolli raised his hands defensively, as Husk's smirk only widened at the interaction.

"If Angel does not, I'll accept the compliment for him." The cat demon looked at his boyfriend, as Angel let go of his hand. "Oh, fuck off, as if I've ever wanted to date those idiots in the first place." He crossed his arms, as Fizzarolli commented something about him always having to be a fucking drama queen.

As Fizzarolli started to shame Angel's exes one by one and the spider kept bickering with him in return, Asmodeus interrupted the argument. "I genuinely hope you stay together for a long while" the Sin said, feeling warm as he looked at the nice picture that Angel and Husk made. "I love the way you two look at each other. It's...I'm sorry, I don't even know how to prhase it" Asmodeus added, sniffing as he was staring to feel a bit emotional.

The Sin of Lust saying such romantic things as if he was a school girl? Husk surely found it weird, but at this point, he knew better than to judge someone by their title.

And of course, this was just their first night out, more time had to pass before Asmodeus would tell Husk about how much of a failure he'd felt anytime he couldn't help with relieving Angel's pain, anytime the spider could only receive empty advice from him, anytime he couldn't save Angel from a new heartbreak...the same feel of shame when he couldn't do anything for his lover working for that bastard of Mammon.

Fizzarolli kissed Asmodeus' cheek as the Sin's lip started to quiver, as he was silently muttering swears. Angel took Asmodeus' hand, holding it alongside with Husk's, exchanging a brief, sweet look with him.

Angel sighed, leaning his head on Husk's shoulder, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He felt a kiss on his forehead, so he opened his eyes to see Husk looking down at him, while Fizzarolli was sweetalking Asmodeus at the other side of the table, trying to calm the big demon down.

"Does this mean I made a good first impression?" Husk whispered, his smile and his voice softening as he was holding who for him was the most precious being in the world. Alongside with these dorky, adorable new friends, of course.

Angel raised his head, smiling in return, nodding contently. "You did a great job, darling, thank you." He answered, kissing Husk's knuckles, a wicked smile forming on his face. "They seem to truly adore you." He addes, pointing to Asmodeus and Fizz, not taking his eyes away from Husk.

"So, you can already start thinking of your reward, baby~" the spider whispered, as Husk playfully rolled his eyes, shaking his head, giving another kiss to Angel's forehead. His boyfriend was really something else, but since Husk was a mess as well, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take the offer once we are back to the Hotel, alright?" Husk smiled, taking Angel's chin, gently holding it.

"Ya know, I can come up with some suggestions for ya! Bet you still don't know how many kinks-"

"Fizz, fucking no!"

[myremnantarmy]

ADOPT A DYING SOUL AND SAVING UNBORN BABIES

Engaging in the daily practice of adopting unknown dying souls is a profound act of mercy and intercession. By offering prayers each morning for five dying souls (known or unknown to you) each hour over a 24-hour period, including asking God to spare unborn babies at risk of abortion, you participate in a spiritual work that transcends the boundaries of life and death.

This week, the passing of three individuals—a revered bishop, a basketball player, and a generous Japanese man who fed your dogs—serves as a poignant reminder of life's fragility and the importance of our prayers for those at the threshold of eternity.

The Catholic tradition emphasizes the significance of praying for the dying. St. James teaches, "He who causeth a sinner to be converted... shall save his own soul from death." By interceding for souls in their final moments, we not only assist them but also work towards our own salvation.

St. Therese of Lisieux offers comfort regarding death: "It is not Death that will come to fetch me, it is the good God. Death is no phantom, no horrible specter, as presented in pictures. In the catechism it is stated that death is the separation of soul and body, that is all! Well, I am not afraid of a separation which will unite me to the good God forever."

By adopting dying souls in prayer, you become a vessel of God's mercy, offering hope and spiritual support to those in their final moments. This practice not only aids the departing souls but also enriches your own spiritual journey, fostering a deeper connection with the divine and a greater appreciation for the sanctity of life.

In this sacred endeavor, you align with the compassionate heart of Christ, who desires that all souls find their way to eternal peace. Your commitment to this daily practice reflects a profound love for humanity and a trust in the transformative power of prayer.

Prayer for Adopting a Dying Soul

✠ Sign of the Cross

By the Most Precious Blood of Jesus and through the holy intercession of Our Lady of Sorrows, I humbly adopt a dying soul today, whether known or unknown to me, from 6 AM to 6 AM the following day (depending on which time you would pray). I beg You, O Lord, to save five souls each hour for 24 hours.

I also lift up unborn babies in danger of abortion. Through Your divine mercy, touch the hearts of their mothers, that at least five children may be spared each hour for the next 24 hours.

Our Lady of Sorrows, visit these dying souls. Comfort them in their final moments and grant them the grace of perfect contrition. If it is Your will, send a priest to administer the sacraments, strengthening them for their journey into eternity.

For those who do not believe, may the graces of mercy, conversion, and salvation flow through the Catholic Church so that, in their last moments, they may be reconciled with God.

**Saint Joseph, Patron of a Happy Death, pray for us.**

This I ask in Your Holy Name, Lord Jesus, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Amen.

(Pray 1 Our Father, 3 Hail Marys in honor of the Holy Trinity, and 1 Glory Be.)

✠ Sign of the Cross

[myreputatioooon]

Outis and the Dante Dish

AKA the messy five-second analysis of possible parallels and maybe self-report on the quality of my memory using Hell's Chicken only

to my greatest regret I fell off on watching Limbus playthroughts midway through Canto III and have only just started watching Canto IV, and with the breaks I'm taking off of catching up to Limbus comes time to digest what I'm watching

Particulary the part where Outis makes a dish for Papa Bongy and dedicates it to Dante by making it look like a clock, which I'm starting to think I misinterpreted, or at least didn't interpret wholly

Outis makes a dish to reach Papa Bongy's heart, yes, but she's dedicating it to her direct superior, Dante

It's a lot like how P.Bongy made chicken to make a meal using it that his mother would finally like

and this is where we can start branching in interpretations

1. Outis ≈ Papa Bongy, Dante ≈ P.Bong's Mother

this is likely the conclusion lots of people will make if they put fuck all into thinking about Outis and her enviornment, aka The City

It's easy to see why as well; Outis/Bongy wants to prove themselves to their superior Dante/P.B.'s mom

The thing is that while P.B's become disillusioned to a degree whilst still holding onto his relationship with his mother, Outis continues to stand her ground on her stance regarding Dante

plus Dante was touched by Outis' meal, whereas P.B's mom never touched his chicken due to being a picky eater preferring Pizza

2. Outis ≈ P.Bong's Mother, Dante ≈ Bongy

Instead of using the lens of superior and subordinate however, I'm much more a believer of this one idk how to name

You expect anybody aged and experience in City whose worked under her fair share of bosses to not find her own way of aquiring tactics that give her advantages in getting a leg up against death or other unwanted scenarios prior to Limbus Company?

Lobotomy & Library have proven how deplorable authorities are willingly to act towards those below them, it isn't unlikely that Outis had dogshit bosses and had to figure out how to rig the game in her favor aka be treated as least shittily as possible

Which likely involved bootlicking and egostroking; acts which may have turned her peers away from her, but they would be peers that mattered little if it meant her bosses felt less inclined to throw her towards the wolves and whatnot

And at her age, depending on how long she's been playing this act, it might even be second nature

Dante is an amnesiac who is also a decent person for now but we and she don't know jackshit about Dante prior to becoming clockface

What's the likelyhood Dante wasn't a piece of shit once upon a time?

What's the likelyhood she won't be under their command if they regain their memories and keeps their clockface memories?

she's doing herself a favor, protecting herself from Dante's future wrath by presenting herself as their most reliable most praiseworthy underling at their most ignorant

it's not her concern if Dante comes to feel insulted by her fellow sinners and makes them pay for it. Her wellbeing is her concern

She's just like Meursault like that, just with her own spin on his take

Dante thinks Outis is their most reliable employee when their relationship is just like how PB thought he was never good enough at making chicken when his mother never liked it all along and prefered Pizza

3. Yes

Circling back to the post I hyperlinked, where I chipped away at what might be a mask by Outis and then I fell for it again, the answer could be both

Outis could be torn between the two ideas, maybe she started at One, then ended up becoming Two, or the otherway around, or she was always split between these ideas

and thats where im ending this off because my brain wont brain anymore, teehee~!

[thedragonagelesbian]

durge!cyrus/wyll for holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them 🥺

oowoo kiss prompts

holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them

Avernus rings quiet. The hummed wailing of the Soul Pillars has died away, as have the last flames burn-burst from Raphael's gallery of sinners, but Wyll does not relax into the silence. Maybe it's the fleck of ash that has wedged itself underneath his stone eye, or the fact that the good one kept seeing himself in the rags left behind, but he's itchy all over. An old, inevitable self scratching up against the new, impossible one.

His companions, clustered around Raphael's smoldering corpse, seem no more at ease. All eyes drift to Cyrus as the bhaalspawn drifts away, head down, steel-bladed wings wrapped tight around his body.

"Soooo," Astarion strings the word out long enough to sheathe his shortswords, as if the exaggerated syllable will hide the tremor in his hands, "are we going to talk about the five-armed monstrosity in the room, or...?"

Cyrus flinches. The edge of one of the blades catches against his arm, but he doesn't seem to notice. Already too bloodied or too guilty--or both, blood like holy oil to anoint the guilt--to care.

It still echoes in Wyll's ears. At the very beginning of the battle, eyes, lungs, heart, stomach, all full of cinders and smoke and a cambion's brutal fury, he heard Cyrus screaming his name.

Heard the snap of Cyrus' spine as his body undid itself.

"That was duk-tak." Wyll has never known Minthara to speak with warmth, but she does so now, a scorching kind of pride in her voice and a smile on her lips as she regards Cyrus. "The unholy executioner, among the most exquisite of Bhaal's blessings: the dread aspect of the Slayer."

"I didn't realize we were accepting grotesque gifts from our fathers these days." Astarion, still laying the levity on so thick it becomes concentrated, concerned. "However did that happen?"

"I didn't want it!"

Wyll moves now, pulled by Cyrus' voice reverberating along his heartstrings. Foolish, perhaps, knowing already what blood lust the aasimar harbored, and knowing now how it could break loose in bone spurs and howls, but he steps forward anyway. Even as Cyrus shies away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, hoarse. "I should have-- everyone should have known, I just didn't want... I thought I could control it..."

Carefully, oh so carefully, Wyll reaches through the shroud of serrated metal to touch Cyrus' face. Fingers hooked under his jaw, thumb on his cheek, wiping away some of the blood and tears. Though Cyrus will not look at him, there is no resistance to his touch. Just a tired sigh, sinking into his palm.

"I failed Isobel and Father both when Marcus kidnapped her from Last Light, but in killing Ketheric, I killed her too, and so he... rewarded me. Forced it upon me, made my body match my wickedness." Cyrus shakes his head. "I was out of my mind the first time, terrified that I would never find my way back to myself. By the grace of the gods, Halsin found me before I could hurt anyone. He calmed me down enough to transform back, and I thought... hoped, prayed, that so long as I was never that scared again, the Slayer wouldn't come back."

"What happened this time?"

Cyrus blinks. "You, Wyll. You. When I saw you almost go down, I..." Head still bent low, he touches Wyll's chest, peeling away the charred cloth of his robe to graze the burn scar beneath, still raw-magic-tender, the quick battle healing that turns wounds into bruises. "I would have seen my claws run red with the blood of each and every devil in Avernus to keep you safe."

Now it is Wyll's turn to blink, heart thundering underneath Cyrus' fingers. "You manifested an aspect of the Lord of Murder to protect me?"

"It's wretched, I know."

"It's wonderful." Wyll covers Cyrus' hand with his own and squeezes. "You took your father's curse, and despite its every foul instinct, you turned it to your own purpose. You made the Slayer serve you, as my pact once served me."

Cyrus glances away. "You should want to kill a monster like the Slayer, not turn it over looking for something better."

"I need not look any further than the kindness in your eyes."

His other hand still on Cyrus' jaw, he lifts the other man's head. Cyrus stares up at him with his mouth parted, that same constant, wordless objection that's been hanging from his lips since he first tried to kill Wyll in the Shadowlands. Wyll isn't sure if he'll ever be able to erase it completely, but he's gotten very good at swallowing it. At touching their mouths together, washing it across his tongue and down his throat as Cyrus melts against him.

They both taste like soot and blood and heat, Cyrus' mouth ever ravenous and burning at a fever-pitch like the rest of his divine body. Like every campfire Wyll ever had to light alone in the wilderness, shivering in his exile.

The hearth of a home he hadn't known in years.

When he opens his eyes again, Cyrus' wings are gone, folded back into harmless ether, the tell-tale sign of something approximating peace for the aasimar.

Rationally, Wyll knows that Cyrus could still hurt him. Without the wings, without the Slayer, with just the hunger singing in his blood. But when Cyrus flings his arms around him and hugs him tight, Wyll trusts that he won't.

"Thank you."

[malumxsubest]

welcome to the crimson mist, a mysterious yet imposing location where opportunities and pleasures are in abundance. tonight, you shall discover something you desire and experience it wholeheartedly without hesitation. the motto of the crimson mist is experience your own la petite morte. oh and please, ensure you've read our terms of service prior to entering the premises. once you've crossed the threshold, you've agreed with our policies and rules as you, the patron, must abide by. in the occurrence of any of these terms are breached, we cannot assume any responsibilities for the consequences. but don't worry, this is where your visit turns out everything you deserve.

and don't forget to ask yourself: aren't we all sinners?

with warm regards, the matriarch.

how it was acquired.

amelia acquired this cathedral roughly around the end of the 1800's, several centuries after her children's death. how did she acquire such a magnificent cathedral in the first place? the moment her eyes had set on the beautifully carved stone with its gothic architecture, she knew she had to have it within her grasp. so, with a little coercion, accidental deaths, and well-placed threats, the chapter and its bishop disbanded after a few years from the onslaught they had endured, the financial difficulties they had faced, and the severe lack of attendants. prior to fleeing, they relinquished everything to an unknown buyer.

it was now an empty box.

cathedral size & architecture ( + adornments ).

west view. east view.

so, the general land area where the cathedral sits upon is a little over 3.10 acres or 12,556 sq m. the height from the tips of both twin towers' spires at the west ( main ) entrance to the ground is approximately 160 meters. the two twin towers' spires at the east ( back ) entrance are a little bit shorter and is approximately 155 meters. in total, the cathedral has four towers. the length is 146 meters and the width is 86 meters. the building has five ( 5 ) main entrances/exits. though, four ( 4 ) are in use: the east entrance near the chevet is solely used by her and her staff plus guest musicians; the west entrance that is situated between both of the towers in the front of the cathedral; and the ones on either side of the building for easy access for her patrons. there are emergency exists between them all as well. the final entrance/exit is extremely well hidden. only she utilizes it for... special occasions.

however, if you count the doors as a single entrance/exit, then that means the west entrance has three doors ( or portals, more info down below ). whereas the east entrance remains as one massive door.

both the west and east entrances have grand façades with gorgeous intricate details throughout the exterior structure of the cathedral depicting brief biblical scenes. for example, the main entrance consists of three portals that of which coincides above each of the three doors. portals are essentially doorways or entrances to the building. each are decorated and emphasized via compound arches aka archivolts which are ornamental mouldings surrounding the inside of arches with jamb statues framing the entrances.

even though the statues and carvings depict biblical scenes that many know, they seemed to be slightly twisted; unnerving. like, something had altered their appearance to make them seem unsettling where it raises the hair behind one's neck.

the general design of the entire structure consists of both rayonnant gothic style, with some flamboyant gothic. important features to note are as follows: largest façade, architectural statues, steep gables, blind tracery, unifying series of spires, flying buttresses, stone sculpture, pinnacles, lofty porticos, & ghoulish adornments.

⇉ statues and adornments.

⇉ the gothic architecture.

beyond the main center door + interior.

right before her patrons can enter her establishment, there would be several of her bouncers outside at the west, south and north entrances with a list of people who had paid ahead; VIPs; special guests. their other responsibilities entail checking for proper IDs and crowd control, to name a few. the ones outside must ensure there is steady flow of patrons coming in and out of the establishment. additionally, people would see many bodyguards stationed at various parts around the perimeter of the cathedral considering it is quite a massive structure. and there are a few blacked out vehicles parked around, as well.

her nightclub is first come first serve where people simply need to pay at the till stationed at the main entrance whether by cash or card. but once the club reaches a certain limit, then her guards would be strict to those who wish to enter. therefore, the list comes in handy for them.

note : vips; special guests; patrons who paid ahead will have different coloured wristbands accordingly than the rest.

but once a patron crosses through the threshold of the heavy-wooden maroon door, the few things they would notice is the cathedral's long and loft nave with its high ceiling, its quadripartite rib vaults and large, gorgeous stain glass windows at the end of the curved chevet. in the middle ( and slightly encroaching the area where the choir/alter used to be situated ) of the crossing and nave is a large stage where special guests and local bands can perform for a night. down below is a simplified format how the cathedral's formal layout. both the nave and the crossing are quite long which form a cross.

delving deeper into the nave, on either side, there are large, ornate stone stairs leading up to the second floor of the club. the second floor also have two additional bars on either side which brings a total of four bars. all bars are ornately decorated, matching the gothic interior architecture of the piers and pointed arches around them. considering the imposing size of the cathedral, each massive bar consists of roughly twelve or so barkeepers in order to attend the amount of patrons that the club attracts each evening. scattered throughout the cavernous space are lounge areas, where velvet and leather sofas & low tables invite patrons to sit, relax and converse amongst themselves or enjoy the show.

the north chapel doubles as private lounge and backstage for special guests, musicians and high paying VIPs as well as certain staff members such as bouncers and private barkeepers.

in the lady chapel is where the nightclub's dancers and entertainers ready themselves for the evening. it also doubles as their locker rooms and it also consists of two private bathrooms and lounge area to use as they see fit.

the crimson mist also provides a parlour area for all staff to enjoy when they are on break or they finished their shifts.

important details.

her main target audience are alternative ( " alt " )/ goth patrons. so she'd typically would hire those who are part of the subculture. there are also private booths and lounge areas for VIPs; both upstairs and main floor. there are many stain glass windows and centuries old frescoes along the walls. there are many paintings that amelia had commissioned that many would deem... blasphemous and downright sinful. the bars are filled with an array of liquor ranging from five percent proof all the way up to damn near ninety percent proof, soft drinks and teas. the food provided are easy filling finger food such as nachos, burgers, wings, to name a few. however, VIPs do receive finer meals such as steak like ribeye and seafood like crab legs.

upstairs on the west wing there are private rooms that any can reserve for their pleasure. they are built akin to a small apartment, furnished with a bed, a lounge area, a closet, and a bathroom. each room is different in small ways where one would have a stripper pole and the other would have a jacuzzi tub. and each room are named and numbered accordingly. so each patron would know what each room provides. importantly, each room provides an array of goodies for their sexual gratification such as toys ( that they have to take or it gets thrown out ), lube, condoms, massage oils, bondage kits, etc.

amelia's office is also on the west wing upstairs near the private rooms. she is mostly in that room, entrusting her staff to do their jobs. but that doesn't mean she isn't watching how everything is running. her club is neutral ground, anyways. so if she witnesses any foul play from other establishments or underground fiends, she will deal with them accordingly.

if you wish to see more aesthetics of the crimson mist, click this link here. it's the pinterest board i've created for the club. i hope you enjoy!