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Friday, February 23: Primal Fear, "Into the Fire"
Once Primal Fear’s lineup coalesced (if not stabilized) around 2018, the group had 5 credible songwriters between them. However, Apocalpyse was still almost entirely composed by the combination of Mat Sinner, Magnus Karlsson and Ralf Scheepers, with Tom Naumann and Alex Beyrodt contributing one track each, and the latter’s “Into the Fire” even then being relegated to bonus track status. That number, besides being a rare Beyrodt/Sinner/Scheepers co-write, bordered on hair metal with its thumping groove and percolating electronics, which made it both an outlier in the PF discography as well as an enjoyable diversion from their sometimes overbearing seriousness. With Scheepers generally game to sing just about anything asked of him, and Sinner apparently committed to releasing anything and everything he came up with, it was apparently on Beyrodt to propel the track forward, and while “Into the Fire” didn’t really fit with the largely melodramatic Apocalypse, it had a spark to it that Primal Fear would’ve been wise to follow more often.
#heavy metal#metal#heavy metal rules#heavy metal music#listen to metal#metal song of the day#metal song#song of the day#song#primal fear#ralf scheepers#mat sinner#magnus karlsson#alex beyrodt#power metal#german metal#german rock#german music#frontiers records#heavy music#heavy rock#metal rock#metal music#listen to music#long live rock#Youtube
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Mat Sinner (Sinner/Primal Fear) 16/10/1963
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Power Metal Legends PRIMAL FEAR Release Lyric Video For "Cancel Culture"
Taken off the album “Code Red” (September 1st, 2023). Stream, get it here: https://primalfear.afr.link/CodeRedYT
“There are countries where you just disappear if you speak your mind. These are intolerable conditions. But I’m not backing down. I’ve always been a rebel, I don’t want to conform. And I don’t have to play in certain countries either. It’s that simple”. – Mat Sinner
“The way the…
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#Alex Beyrodt#Atomic Fire Records#Magnus Karlsson#Mat Sinner#Michael Ehré#Primal Fear#Ralf Scheepers#Tom Naumann
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(The Metal Gods Meltdown)
#SoundCloud#music#The Metal Gods Meltdown#Mat Sinner#The Metal Gods Meltdown#Rulebreaker#Seb Di Gatto
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Primal Fear 2018 Apocalypse
released 10.08.2018
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Matteo Berrettini & Jannik Sinner - National Bank Open
My favorite Italian men 🇮🇹
#so sad for Mat he was playing better than Jan in the first set#but happy for Jan anyway#and Mat’s smile was so adorable#matteo berrettini#jannik sinner#national bank open
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Heat: Part One
Part Two
This was my first attempt at smut, so you will all get to see it now. I hope you'll like it. I originally posted it on AO3. If it is terrible, I apologize. This is also set in the same universe as "Bound to Hell" and "Going Straight to Hell", but it is NOT canon to the official multichapter fic which will be posted when it is half done. So it is the same characters, with a much more developed relationship.
Pairing: Alastor x Reader (AFAB) Lamb/Sheep Reader
Warnings: References to abuse, going into heat, no a/b/o, female anatomy, Rosie being a good friend, references to Soul Bonds, something you can ask about haha. Minors DNI. This part is not explicit, but the next is! Alastor speaks French.
Word Count: 3,690
Alastor knew something was wrong very early on. He hadn’t been able to identify what it was specifically, but it had been unsettling. His shadow had quaked and quivered at something he couldn’t see, and his skin had felt tight. When he had left his room, the sound of crickets in the swamp fading behind him, the feeling had grown worse. It had made the Overlord not quite jumpy, but definitely uncomfortable. Then he saw the cause, stumbling from their room.
His little lamb that was slowly carving out a spot for themself in his cold, dead heart, was the cause. Their wool was disheveled, nearly matted. Their eyelids were drooping low, as if they hadn’t slept. He watched them stumble for a bit before he caught their scent. Due to their bond, and proximity, he was quite attuned to their scent. Normally, they were faintly sweet with a hint of florals, but now? All he could focus on was the deep, heady smell of them. Alastor wasn’t sure what had happened, but it was clearly drastic.
“My dear,” he called. The sound of his voice had made the little demon perk up. They whipped around, and nearly sprinted to his side. They were often enthusiastic to see him in the morning, but this was new.
“Alastor!” Their voice was filled with joy, their eyes full of unwarranted excitement. The exhaustion that had painted their face only a moment before, was gone. Their hands wrapped around his lower arm, and they nuzzled into his side. They cooed, “I missed you.”
Alastor’s brows furrowed. How very peculiar! His little lamb never initiated contact without asking first. He didn’t mind their touch, it was rather pleasing. He enjoyed the softness of their skin, and the gentleness of their hands. They still liked to ask, though, some strange need to make him feel comfortable. (He thought it was unnecessary, he was an Overlord, and he owned their soul; if he wanted them off, they’d be off of him). Not to forget, they had ‘missed’ him? The two had been separated a handful of hours at most. What was going on?
“My dearest, are you feeling alright,” he asked, lifting their chin with his other hand. “You seem a little out of sorts.”
Their eyes wavered, and the exhaustion leeched back into them. The grasp they had on his arm tightened. “I’m sorry, Al. I feel really weird.” Their eyelids fluttered, and they released a strangled breath. “I feel like I’m burning up. Which is weird, it’s winter still.”
Alastor could feel his smile wavering. He hadn’t heard of sinners getting fevers for anything other than strange illnesses. No one else in the hotel was sick, so how could they have contracted anything? He looked them up and down, noting the flush to their cheeks, and the sweat building up on the back of their neck. They were sick.
“Hey, can… can demons get colds?” They asked, almost as if it was a joke. Before Alastor could muster a response, they collapsed. He deftly caught them, his surprise showing on his face.
“Oh, dear,” he muttered to himself. Who would know about these kinds of things? Perhaps Charlie? But she was supposed to be rather busy that day. Perhaps Rosie would know! She had been in Hell for quite a long time. She was bound to know something.
Alastor arranged his little soul-bond in his arms, and stalked back to their room. Their room was full of that smell that had thrown him off just before. It made his skin tingle, and his head feel full. He couldn’t account for it, but it wasn’t something he disliked. The discomfort came from the confusion that was growing in his breast. What a strange sensation!
Alastor wrapped them up in their blankets, hoping that perhaps getting warmer would help their fever. Before he stepped away from their bedside, he stroked their cheek with the back of his fingers. How soft their skin was! He stared down at their little face, taking in every detail. The white freckles that looked like stars against their gray skin, the way their lashes fluttered in their sleep. Their plush lips, just barely open, and the sharp teeth he knew lay behind them. His chest tightened, something aching deeply, as he looked at them. His smile tightened. Alastor decided it was time to go.
On the way out of the hotel, he called for Husker. The cat-demon was clearly disgruntled at being called on earlier than he’d prefer, but Alastor didn’t care.
“My little lamb seems to be sick. They’re in bed right now. If they don’t stir before noon, wake them up and make them eat something.” Alastor let the underlying threat color his words. He wouldn’t have their situation get worse just because Husker wanted to be lazy. They would eat, before he got back, and then he would help them get better. But first, he needed to know what was wrong.
“Alastor! My good friend! What brings you in on such a fine day!” Rosie’s fervor was nearly infectious, but Alastor had a mission. The feather on her hat bobbed as she tilted her head in question.
“Ah, I seem to have a problem,” Alastor replied. “Do you mind if we perhaps have a conversation in a less, public space?”
The deer-demon glanced about, as if to remind her of their location. Rosie nodded, still smiling happily. She gestured with a flick of her wrist, and led the way to the back of her store.
When the two had finally settled into their seats, Alastor sighed. Rosie went about pouring some tea for them as he worked on his words. He conjured his microphone, idly tapping it. Something heavy weighed in his chest, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.
“Oh Alastor! You know you’re my favorite pal! Just tell me what’s on your mind. You look all twisted up!” Rosie sat back in her chair, sipping from a teacup that she held delicately. Her smile was welcoming and patient, and it soothed Alastor minutely.
He was thankful for her breaking the silence, as it forced him to finally speak. “Do you know what might cause a sinner to get sick? Even if they have not been exposed to anything?”
Rosie hummed to herself, a knowing look in her dark eyes. “Oh, this is about your little paramour, isn’t it?”
Alastor’s smile twitched, faintly. Of course! Rosie would be able to tell immediately. She was intelligent, and she was better at reading people than even himself. Not to mention, the two of them had been friends a long time. She could read him like an open book.
“Yes,” he admitted. “They seem to be sick, and I don’t know what it could be. I’ve never seen nor experienced such a thing, here.” His claws tap at the armrest of the plush chair, as he props his chin up with the other hand. “They looked positively dreadful this morning! Claiming that they felt hot, despite the cold.”
Rosie set down her teacup, letting a hand cover her smile as she laughed. “Oh dear! That is quite something.” She laughed again when Alastor let his annoyance show. “They’re a sheep, are they not?”
Alastor nodded, not quite knowing what that aspect of his little soul-bond had to do with it.
“And they are female, yes?” Alastor nodded again, his confusion growing. “Oh dear. You said some time ago that they had reciprocated the soul-bond, yes? And they’ve been down here for several months now.”
Rosie trailed off, as if expecting him to suddenly understand what she was implying. Alastor couldn’t think of how any of that had made them sick. Rosie picked up on how deeply confused he was, and sighed.
“My, my. You really don’t know about how demon manifestations work, beyond what pertains to yourself, do you?” Rosie waved a hand. “As you know, the form we take in death often have something to do with our life. The way we died, the way we lived, all of it contributes in one way or another. Lambs, sheep, whatever you want to call them, tended to have harder lives where they had no control. Often dealing in their bodily autonomy, or lack thereof.”
Alastor’s smile shrunk. Well of course, he had known what their life had been, but seeing that their new form was a reminder of that, each day? It made him uncomfortable. He hoped that his little lamb didn’t know why they were a lamb.
“Yes, I see that you have connected some of the dots. They’re lambs to the slaughter, all of them in one way or another. Their forms, because it’s Hell, often come with some terrible side effects that don’t show for a while. Their stress needs to level out, and they need to feel comfortable with the demons they are frequently near.” Rosie raises her brows, waiting for him to get it, but he doesn’t. “When they’ve settled, and they’re around demons they like, or they bond, the side effects kick in. Your little lamb, is experiencing that now.”
“So, they will get sick, because they’re comfortable?” Alastor feels mildly bamboozled, as he tries to clarify.
“Alastor, no,” Rosie sighs. She rubs her forehead, carefully avoiding cutting herself with her claws. “They’re in heat.”
Alastor shifts in his seat, that uncomfortable feeling tingling in his brain again. “Heat? Like, like an animal?”
“Yes, like a ewe, Alastor. They will seem sick, for about a day, then they will be clingy with you for the next, and then it will happen.” Rosie leans back in her chair, again. Unlike Alastor, she seemed entirely comfortable with the topic of discussion. “They will have the strongest drive for sex that they will have ever experienced. Going without is said to hurt terribly, like their whole body is on fire. They’ll seek out comfort in you, or by themself. Whatever quells the urge.”
Alastor felt like he had been shot. Never in all his years, alive or dead, had he heard of such a thing occurring. How tedious! How disgusting. His nose scrunched up at the thought of having to deal with such a thing himself, but the thought of his lamb… Heat rushed down his chest and into the pit of his belly. His skin was itching. The thought of his soul-bonded needing him in such a way… Alastor could not tell himself that he disliked such an idea.
He was deeply aware of how much he had grown to care for them. When he had finally relinquished some control in their relationship, offering to tie their little string tight on his end, he knew it was cemented. Alastor had a bizarre, and new, kind of love for the sweet thing he had made a deal with. They were his, and for the first, and only time, he could say, he was also theirs. He still owned their soul, but it was different. Their relationship had shifted over time. There were no more orders, and there was no more fear. His little lamb had grown comfortable, happy even, and this ‘heat’ was the proof.
Something akin to pride ignited in his chest. Yes, they were happy with him. What a delightful thing to know for sure!
“What should I do? I am not ready for anything of that nature, and I don’t want to risk them. They have had far too many choices taken from them,” Alastor says. His hands clasp together as he gives Rosie a moment to think. He didn’t want them forced into such an awful thing again. The realization that their experiences in life had caused this…anger was a word that barely described his feelings on the matter. He wanted to tear whatever being was in charge of such transformations into pieces.
“They will need something, at some level. Tomorrow, bring it up to them, ask. Let them know everything you know, and give them a choice. They can try and ride it out alone, or you can be beside them. How you handle it beyond that is between the two of you.” Rosie stands, a gentle smile on her face. “You should get going, my friend. You should get back to them. You’ll want to feed them well over these two days. They’ll need the energy, no matter what happens.”
Alastor stands, thanking her, almost absentmindedly. His trip back to the hotel is spent in silent pondering. He needed to plan. He wasn’t sure if sex was something he desired for himself, but he knew, deep down, he would do it for them; he’d give them that pleasure, that joy. Alastor could also feel something possessive growing. The idea of anyone else getting to commit themselves to such a task made him grit his teeth. No, if anyone was going to touch the sheep-demon, it would be him.
Angry flames licked at the bottom of his belly, something in his thoughts igniting them. They were his, and his alone. He would be the one to drive them to pleasure. (He ignored the memory of Richard and his deeds. None of that changed anything about what they deserved. It just meant that he needed to more carefully heed their wants and needs. He would give them the bliss that no other had).
Alastor smiled widely when he returned to the hotel. Now he needed to sit by their side for the night, and then speak with them tomorrow. Perhaps a quick discussion with the others as well? The two of them would not be available for the next few days, and he needed to make sure they would remain undisturbed. Perhaps a different location would be ideal.
When you woke, all you could focus on was the smell of food. Alastor was a very good cook, and you knew from the lovely smell of spices, that it had to have been his food. When you finally cracked your eyes open, you were delighted to find yourself right. The demon was sitting on the edge of your bed, a steaming bowl cupped in one of his hands.
“Good morning, dearest,” he said. There was something akin to apprehension on his face, but you were far too hungry to immediately comment on it. “I figured you would be quite hungry, when you awoke, so I took the liberty of making you something hardy.”
You smiled widely in thanks. How sweet he could be to you! It was new, in your relationship, but you loved it. You held out your hands, thanking him as you did, but he didn’t hand you the bowl. Alastor merely gestured for you to sit up, and scoot back. You did so, hesitantly, your back settling against your headboard. You held out your hands again, but he settled himself close to you on the bed. With his legs swung over the side, he started spooning the stew.
“No, hey, wait a minute! I can feed myself!” You glared at him, confusion and a tinge of anger mixing together.
Alastor sighed, affection leaking into his words. “I know, my love, but I need to tell you something quite…hmm, difficult might be the best word here. I want you to just listen, and focus on eating. Plus, I just love taking care of you.” One of his hands edges towards your face, claws softly stroking your cheek. He pulls it back, and spoons some more stew. “You can ask questions when I am done, but for now, eat.”
You grumble to yourself before opening your mouth to accept the spoon. Although you were loath to admit it, the stew tasted great, and him feeding you only felt slightly patronizing.
“Do you recall how you felt yesterday? You said you felt like you were burning up. Well, when you fainted, I went to find out what could be the cause. I went to my good friend Rosie, you remember her?” He lets you nod before feeding you another spoonful. “I came to the conclusion that she would know enough about Hell, to know what was causing your sudden illness.
“So I described it vaguely, and she realized I was talking about you, dearest. And she said some things that upset me, more than I had been willing to admit at the time.” Alastor sighs, static, that seemed ever present in his voice, fizzling out. The room was quiet for a moment as he let you swallow your food. “The way we manifest in Hell, has to do with the way we lived, and died. The things we experienced. I know you know some of this, but I also found out something more specific about your form.”
Alastor goes quiet, and you frown. Whatever could he have learned to cause the demon that never stops talking to go quiet?
“Sheep demons are often the result of lives lived that had very little control over themselves or their situation. You are a sheep, because you had such little bodily autonomy in your life, my love.” He feeds you another spoonful as your eyes widen. He snorts to himself. “It made me so incredibly angry, to have that confirmed to me. It only got worse when she finally told me why that had anything to do with your illness.
“You aren’t sick. You are experiencing a ‘heat’, as she called it. It’s a side effect of being a sheep, or more specifically a female, sheep demon. It occurs when the individual has been comfortable with the demons in their vicinity and stress-free for a time. Soul-bonds can trigger this too.”
Your brows scrunched up, and you swallowed the food before you had finished chewing. It hurt your throat, but the urge to grimace was too strong. How fucking terrible. It felt like you couldn’t escape anything from your life. Your eyes drifted to the wall. You couldn’t even make eye contact with Alastor. His gaze felt heavy on you, and all you wanted to do was hide.
“I’m sorry, dearest. You need to know what ‘heats’ are, though. Then we can talk about what you would like to do about it.” Alastor sets the bowl down on your bedside table, taking the hint that you couldn’t eat right then. One of his hands tugs at yours, large claws wrapping around your whole hand easily. “Yesterday, the fever and the exhaustion, was the first day. The second, which is today, it’s common for the affected individual to be clingy, especially with a bonded pair.” His thumb stroked the back of your wrist, as he continued. “Tomorrow, the actual ‘heat’ occurs. You will be driven to-”
Alastor cuts himself off with a cough, and it draws your gaze. “Sorry, my dear. I’ll continue. You will want to have sex. The desire will become a need, and it will consume you. I have been told that it can hurt, to go without, but that it is possible to handle alone. This is what I would like to talk to you about.”
Your nose twitches, and your lips quiver. Of course, this would be thrust on you. How could you deal with this? The idea of sex still unsettled you. However, he mentioned that it could be handled alone. Did he mean masturbation? Would something other than penetration work? Your thoughts whorled in your head, when one stuck to the forefront.
The image of Alastor holding you tightly to his chest, hand cupping your navel and exploring lower, made your brain halt. The thought of his fingers rubbing at your clit, and his wonderful voice whispering in your ear. Him touching you gently, talking you through the whole ordeal, and bringing you to orgasm, lit up your mind. You suddenly wanted it more than anything. You didn’t need penetration from him, but you so desperately wanted to be touched.
Your cheeks flushed, and fluttering erupted beneath your navel. Alastor’s eyebrows raised as he took in your appearance. You were so glad that he couldn’t read your thoughts. How embarrassing, especially because he wasn’t the biggest fan of being touched.
The heat subsided as you remembered that detail. That would complicate things. The idea of being left alone, right now, made you want to cry. You hoped he didn’t want you to handle it by yourself. If all he could do was be in the same room, you would take it over being alone.
“I know that neither of us are at the point where…sexual intercourse would be the best action. However, I don’t want you to deal with it alone. As new as this will be for me, I would like to be there for you. To help you with it, if you so desire.” Alastor leans in towards you, one of his hands cupping your face. “I would bring you pleasure, and help this ‘heat’ end for you, my love.”
Your eyelids flutter closed, letting his breath fan across your face as you think. You want him with you, badly.
Alastor chuckles, making you look at him. “I can do that, my dear.”
Oh. You had spoken out loud. (Your brain feels like it's melting. It feels hard to think, but you push through). Your cheeks flush again.
“Please, stay with me. I don’t want sex, but I would like your help, if you would give it to me.” Your eyes shift off of his face, shame curdling in your stomach. “I don’t know how to help myself very well, as it is. I would like to learn, with you, if I could.”
Alastor suddenly grabs both sides of your face, his own getting closer. “Look at me, my little lamb. You are deserving of such pleasures, and I would gladly help you. We can learn together, dearest. We can stop if you are ever uncomfortable, I swear it. I would never take advantage of such a situation.”
You smile at him. “Same for you, Al. If you don’t wanna touch me, or vice versa, just let me know. I can figure something out.”
Alastor’s smile softens, and his pupils expand. “Oh, love, worry not. The desire to touch you in such a way has been growing, and the thought has been stuck in my head all night.” His thumbs rub your cheeks, gentler than you had ever felt him be.
Your chest aches, and the sudden need to cry grows within you. You love this strange demon, despite everything that had happened in the last months. He was growing to be so good to you, and it made your heart hurt.
“Can I kiss you,” you ask, your volume barely above a whisper.
Alastor answers by molding his lips to yours. His skin is cool to the touch, but compared to the fire you were bathed in the day before, it was Heaven. One of his hands clutched the back of your head, brushing by your sensitive ears. A sound breaks free from your throat, and it makes him press into you harder. You clutch at his suit jacket, your lungs starting to burn. Before you can grow lightheaded, (although you definitely were from just kissing him, just not suffocating), he pulled back from you.
“That was splendid, ma chéri.” His voice dips lower, his fake radio accent slipping.
You bask in his presence, as you think over what tomorrow will entail. Although he feeds you a few more times that day, and you talk more about how you feel about it, nothing could prepare you for the full force of the ‘heat’. When he transports you to a room that you haven’t been before, you let your curiosity numb your anxiety. Worrying about it wouldn’t help you, anyway.
My asks are open! Feel free to make a request or reach out to say hi! :)
#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#bun's short fics#hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#alastor#alastor x you#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fluff#fanfic#alastor x reader smut#smut
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RATING THE SINNER'S ROOMS ON HOW INHOSPITABLE TO LIFE THEY ARE
DON QUIXOTE - 6/10 IT'S DOWNRIGHT OKAY IN HERE
Don is the only sinner who knows what "decorating" is. She's got a carpet or mat of some kind so sleeping here would not be absolutely dismal. And they let her keep her fixer figurines which is nice.
HONG LU - 5.5/10 MONEY CAN BE EXCHANGED FOR GOODS AND SERVICES
Having so much gold and treasure chests everywhere probably makes it a bit hard to move around the room. But at least his chair looks comfortable.
SINCLAIR - 5/10 CHAIR
Nice of them to give him a chair to Shinji pose in. Sucks that the chair will give him back pain at the tender age of 20.
MEURSAULT - 4/10 PAGE 77 LINES 12-15 ALBERT CAMUS' THE STRANGER (EN TRANSLATION BY MATTHEW WARD)
"There were others worse off than me. Anyway, it was one of Maman's ideas and she often repeated it, that after a while you could get used to anything."
FAUST - 3.5/10 INTJ ROOM
Well she was given a plain white tile room originally but she had to go and be an INTJ about it and now there's formulas on the wall.
YI SANG - 3/10 GLASS ON THE FLOOR
Similar to Faust, Yi Sang was given nothing but a white tiled room. But he got glass on the floor so it adds an element of danger. We are now entering the "Rooms with potential for bodily harm, be it illness or injury" zone.
RODYA - 2/10 A BIT CHILLY
No matter how cute your fur-trimmed pajamas are, they will not save you from frostbite. Sorry about your neighbors also. Mind the blood.
GREGOR - 1.5/10 TETANUS
While I understand the symbolism of him feeling like just another weapon of war, abandoned when the smoke war ended, there are just a lot of chances to get tetanus here. Not a good place to sleep.
HEATHCLIFF - 1/10 AND IS CATHERINE EARNSHAW IN THE ROOM WITH US NOW?
Not only does he have a roommate who's been festering for god knows how long, but due to being British he's discovered a way to make it rain INSIDE! He will be joining Rodya in the hypothermia club if he tries to sleep in these conditions.
RYOSHU - 0.5/10 FIRE SAFETY
Sorry about your daughter. We put a bunch of candles in a wooden room for you. You don't like the candles because they remind you of how your daughter died? Okay sorry. The room will catch fire any second now so you shouldn't have to worry about it.
OUTIS - 0/10 TETANUS, TRENCHFOOT, AND OTHER AILMENTS.
Not to be outdone by Heathcliff and Gregor, Outis has combined the worst of tetanus risks and dead bodies wrapped in barbed wire. Then turned it up orders of magnitude larger. It'll probably take her at least 10 years, experiencing many perils and losing all of her crewmates in the process, to return home. Sucks that they couldn't at least give her a chair in the meantime.
ISHMAEL - WATER/10
WATER.
#limbus company#long post#ratings are a bit subjective but you know how it is#i said i'd make ths post yesterday at like 3am so here it is
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Justice is blind
Warning: Contains imagery of execution
"Order! Order in the court!"
With a slam of the gavel, Furina silenced the rowdy courtroom.
As the restless jury and witnesses settled down, the Hydro Archon cleared her throat.
"Citizens of Fontaine!" Her usually authoritative voice showed signs of eagerness in it.
"Before you stands a criminal, nay, a heretic, with a crime so heinous that no court on Teyvat has a sentence for it: the taking of the All Divine's face!"
With a wave of her hand, the curtains surrounding the defendant's table unfurled themselves back to reveal a bound figure, kneeling between two bailiffs.
"As all devotees should know!" Furina pointed an accusing finger at the Imposter. "To impersonate the Creator is a crime of the highest magnitude! No sentence is too great for this heretic! However, fate has called upon the fair and just courts of Fontaine to judge this case! In the name of their Grace, we shall decide the most suitable punishment for this sinner, to enact the ultimate justice that will stand through all of time!"
Cheers erupted from the stands and jury box, drowning out the Imposter's pathetic whimper for salvation from behind the gag that silenced them.
Furina slammed the gavel down once more.
"Silence! This court is now in session! Neuvillette! Call the first witness!"
"When they first came to me, their face shined like the sun! It was almost blinding to look at!"
"Their voice soothed my heart and before I knew it, I followed their every command! There's foul magic at play, I just know it!"
"I've felt the Creator's holy presence before. I alongside others have traveled far to complete tasks in their glorious name and I know for a fact that this... abomination that stands before us can't be further from the Creator themselves! Your Majesty, surely you know what the aura of the Creator feels like!"
The courtroom was silent as all eyes fell upon their Archon, still deep in thought.
After a brief moment, Furina turned towards the courtroom and gave a sinister smile.
"I have decided the most fitting punishment for this Imposter! To the guillotine!
The fountain plaza was completely packed as almost all the people within the city gathered to see the momentous event.
Some chattered eagerly, some prepared their kameras to immortalize the instant the blade swung down, while others sat on mats and enjoyed a picnic.
Then, their Archon finally stepped onto the platform with a skip in her step.
"Witness me, Your Grace!"
Furina gleefully pranced around the restrained Imposter.
"Witness me, as I, Focalors, and the people of Fontaine, cleanse this beautiful world of its filthiest sinner, in your name!"
Before the Imposter could even say their last worlds, Furina's rapier slashed through the rope next to the guillotine, releasing its deadly payload.
As the blade soared down, Furina closed her eyes and felt utter ecstasy shudder through her body.
Chunk
Fwump
Furina heard something land in the basket in front of her. She had done it! The Divine Grace's face is sullied no longer!
Furina spread her arms wide open to welcome the cheers of her people-
But the celebration never arose.
An uncomfortable silence was all she heard as she slowly opened her eyes.
"What's wrong? This is a moment for celebration! Not-"
Furina stopped as her eyes wandered over to the guillotine, then down onto the liquid gold that stained its blade.
"Oh."
#sagau#self aware genshin#genshin#imposter sagau#focalors#written before fontaine#sagau impostor au#hydro archon#furina
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Monday, February 12: Sinner, "Scene of a Crime"
Mat Sinner claimed that Danger Zone was the first “real” Sinner album, whereas their two earlier records were little more than demos forced onto the market by a no-name label. And to be sure, both of those were hapless mustachioed hard rock that aimed for Thin Lizzy but had neither the talent nor charm to back it up. But while Danger Zone was released by Noise and had much more focus and bite, this was still an early effort by a bassist and singer who, after 40 years, has still barely learned how to write actual songs. With “Scene of a Crime”, Mat seemed to be going for some kind of streetwise heavy metal stormer, and it was livelier and more vigorous than the lame Fast Decision. Still, this was Sinner, so even the hooks felt clueless, and Mat’s tough guy snarling was more comical than menacing. At the same time, “Scene of a Crime” felt like the band and its frontman were choosing a lane, and it set Sinner up for a shockingly lengthy run.
#heavy metal#metal#heavy metal rules#heavy metal music#listen to metal#metal song of the day#metal song#song of the day#song#sinner#mat sinner#german music#german metal#german rock#hard rock#80s music#80s metal#noise records#heavy music#heavy rock#metal rock#metal music#listen to music#long live rock#primal fear#Youtube
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Icarus {Alastor x Reader} Part 3
Warnings: Blood, Gore, Death and canon-typical violence. Please be aware of these warnings going forward.
This is the last part. I'd love to hear your thoughts. This is 9k words.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Part 3: My Dearly Beloved
The annual extermination proved to be more brutal than ever, a relentless onslaught against the denizens of Hell that left the air thick with the stench of blood and despair. With each swing of her halberd, she condemned countless souls to their fate. The only unexpected thing that happened was Adam's unexpected act of pouring sinner's blood over her head.
A few rare moments away from Lute’s watchful eye, (Name) searched for any signs of Alastor amidst the chaos of the extermination. As she scanned the blood-stained skies. searching for a glimpse of her beloved husband, she couldn't shake the pang of disappointment that rang true in the depths of her soul. Alastor remained true to his word and didn’t come back to meet her this year. He may have remained elusive this time, but there was the next year and the year after that.
The triumphant cheers of her fellow exorcists reverberated through Heaven as they returned. (Name) watched the exorcists raise their bloody weapons high in the sky as they cheered. Her eyes turned to her halberd which didn’t look much better. Her halberd, a weapon now adorned with the remnants of the sinners that she had killed. (Name)'s gaze lingered on the crimson stains and bits of flesh clinging to the weapon's edges. Her face recoiled at the sight as bile threatened to leave her stomach.
(Name) didn’t look much better than her weapon. Her once lustrous chocolate brown hair now bore the blackish crimson hue of dried blood, its strands matted and tangled with the residue of the dead. With each strand of hair clinging to her face, she wore the marks of the battlefield like a somber crown. As she ran her bloody fingers through her hair. (Name)'s fingers hesitated as they combed through the tangled mess of something brushed against her fingertips. Her mind raced with unsettling possibilities, each more gruesome than the last. Was it a fragment of flesh, torn from one of the sinners she had dispatched?
Shaking the thought out of her mind, (Name) grabbed the hem of her skirt and wrung the blood out of that side of her dress. She just wanted to cleanse herself of their blood. Being an exorcist was messy work, but coming back looking like she bathed in their blood wasn’t something she signed up for.
"Good work, everyone!" Adam's voice boomed with a mixture of excitement and determination, echoing through the room as the exorcists rejoiced in the aftermath of their battle.
Amidst the celebration, (Name)'s sigh punctuated the air, exhaustion clinging to her as she started to make her way back to her dorm. While (Name) was leaving, she faltered as Lute's stern gaze beckoned her to follow. Lute led her back into the building into a quiet nook.
"Need something?" (Name)'s voice, tinged with weariness, cut through the silence. Her fingers absentmindedly wiped the blood from her cheek, only serving to smear it further across her skin.
"Adam needs you to head back down to the embassy," That was a surprise. They were just here! Who in their right mind would have a meeting right after the extermination? "Bring whoever shows up to the office."
(Name)'s raised brow at the request. “We were just there," she countered, her tone laced with a hint of frustration at the sudden demand.
"Maven," Lute's sharp retort brooked no argument, her glare piercing through any resistance. "The meeting is in forty-five minutes. You better get moving."
“At least let me shower,” Lute’s only response was to point a finger behind her and narrow her eyes
"Just go," Lute's command was firm, her gesture directing (Name) down the hallway.
Fortunately, the exorcist building boasted an elevator in its basement, offering (Name) a fleeting opportunity to rid herself of the grime that clung to her like a second skin. With deft fingers, she attempted to dislodge the stubborn remnants of battle from her hair, a futile effort to restore some semblance of dignity to her disheveled appearance. She resisted the urge to dispose of the detritus of their confrontation in the corridors, mindful of the disapproval it would undoubtedly invite from her comrades.
Alone in the confines of the elevator, (Name) found herself afforded a rare moment of solitude, a brief respite from the ever-watchful eyes of Adam and Lute. As the glass panels encasing the elevator reflected her disheveled form back to her, she couldn't help but notice the amount of blood on her person. Her once pristine wings bore the stains of countless skirmishes, each crimson blotch made her want to throw up. Even the halo above her head, once a beacon of celestial purity, now bore a subtle crimson hue.
In the short ride down, time seemed to stretch for an eternity. Her thoughts returned to Alastor and what he could’ve been doing. Was he safe? Was he there, waiting for her? What she would give to know the answers to her questions.
💟
As (Name) stepped out of the elevator, she found herself enveloped in the eerie stillness of the lobby. The dimly lit space stretched out before her, its pristine surfaces untouched by time. It was clear that the building never saw much use. Rows of empty seats lined the walls, their silent presence a stark contrast to the bustling energy outside.
Running her fingers across the smooth surface of a nearby sofa, (Name) revealed a thin layer of dust. The sight stirred a sense of unease within her, a reminder of the solitude that permeated the empty expanse of the lobby. As she continued to explore the desolate space, (Name)'s footsteps echoed softly against the polished floors.
Her gaze swept across the rows of empty seats, lingering on the faint traces of dust that clung to their surfaces. A part of her wondered if anyone would be coming. Would they even find this place? It was clear as day that no one ever stepped foot in here.
Alone in the empty lobby, (Name)'s senses were heightened, her awareness attuned to the distant echoes of chaos that reverberated from the streets beyond. The faint sounds of commotion reached her ears, she wanted to try and take a look outside for a moment.
Despite the curiosity that tugged at her, urging her to venture outside and uncover the source of the disturbance, (Name) hesitated. The thought of confronting the unknown dangers that lurked beyond the safety of heaven. She was in hell and they would tear her apart as soon as she stepped through the door.
It was a risk she wasn’t willing to take, not without proper preparation and support. The streets of hell were unforgiving, where danger lurked around every corner. But, she didn’t want to become demon food.
With a determined focus, (Name) pulled the trash can closer, its metal surface clattering softly against the floor as she settled into one of the vacant seats. Determined to restore a semblance of order to her disheveled appearance, she set about the arduous task of removing the grisly remnants that clung stubbornly to her hair.
The process was far from glamorous, each stroke of the comb bringing forth a tangled web of gore and viscera. Yet, despite the repulsive nature of her task, (Name) persevered, her hands steady as she picked the gore out.
As her fingers glided through the tangled strands, the thought of shearing off her long locks and returning them to a more manageable length flickered through (Name)'s mind. The idea of cutting it back to a more practical length seemed tempting, almost liberating in its simplicity. She imagined the sensation of sharp blades slicing through the tangled mess.
Yet, even as the notion took root in her mind, (Name) hesitated. She remembered her mother telling her that hair is a girl’s crown. That hair holds memories even the smallest insignificant ones. (Name) couldn’t cut it and only did when it got past her knees. Having long hair was probably the main reason she was in this mess.
Her thoughts wandered back to Alastor as she ran her fingers through her bloodstained hair. What was Alastor doing right now? Did he manage to survive this year's extermination? Her every question had no answer and she was left alone in the empty lobby.
Did he still love her even now? After all these years? Was their love strong enough to survive almost a century? He kissed her, sure, but that was more of a goodbye kiss.
(Name)'s blood-stained hands hung in front of her, and her hands dropped back down to her lap. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so out of control, so utterly lost amidst the chaos of her own emotions. In the wake of that brief encounter, she found herself grappling with doubts and uncertainties that threatened to consume her.
She had always prided herself on her composure, always having the appearance of someone who was well put together. But now, as she sat alone in the empty lobby, the weight of her emotions bore down upon her like a suffocating blanket, leaving her feeling raw and exposed.
How could one meeting leave her so shaken, so fragile that she could break at any moment.
She couldn’t understand what Alastor did to her.
As her eyes lingered on the door, debating her options and what she actually could do. On one hand, the allure of venturing outside, of braving the chaotic streets in search of Alastor, tugged at her heartstrings with an almost irresistible force. The prospect of catching even a fleeting glimpse of him would be enough for her.
But, she would probably be ripped apart.
The safest option was staying here and falling deeper into her potential madness. It sure felt like it.
As (Name) sank back into the cushioned seat, she allowed her thoughts to drift far and back to safety that would be Alastor’s embrace. He was her comfort, her love, and her everything. She loved him more than life itself. But, did he love her the way she did?
Closing her eyes and leaned back into the soft cushions as she tried to think of better days to wash away her doubt.
“Do you know I fell in love with you,” (Name) whispered, her voice quivering slightly.
Amidst the haze of cigarette smoke and the lingering scent of alcohol, (Name) found herself back in a familiar dimly lit bar. The soft melody of the piano drifted through the air, casting a spell of melancholy over the patrons, but there was something buried deep in the notes. Something bright and hopeful.
“I can’t remember, how long has it been?”
Seated alone, (Name)'s gaze wandered, tracing the patterns of the swirling smoke as it curled upwards toward the ceiling. The muted chatter of the bar faded into the background as she lost herself in the haunting strains of the music and the man playing them.
The soft glow of the bar's dim lighting seemed to cast a halo around Alastor as he sat at the piano, his fingers dancing gracefully across the keys. (Name) couldn’t help but tear her gaze from her drink as she shifted to view the performance. The emotion he put into every note was his head bobbing up and down as he immersed himself in his performance.
Lost in the melody, (Name)'s smile danced upon her lips as she hummed along to the gentle strains of Alastor's tune. Pulling her cool drink to her lap as time seemed to be a concept that no longer mattered.
"All I know," She sang softly, her voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of the piano playing in her mind. "Is this love within my heart, waiting for you."
Her gaze drifted back to Alastor, who played with a quiet intensity, his fingers caressing the keys with practiced skill. There was a distant look in his eyes as if lost in a world of his own creation, yet his music spoke volumes, reaching out to touch the hearts of those who listened.
As his song ended his eyes traveled across the audience and lingered on her as a brief smile appeared on his lips. That was all it took for her eyes to quickly drop back down to her drink. “Can’t you see, what you mean to me?”
In a foolish attempt to control her nerves, she took a big gulp of her cocktail. It didn’t do much to hide her flushed cheeks as her heart raced in her ears. “How I wish you could read my mind,”
That was their first meeting, something as mundane as anything else. Someone who was here for a good time and someone who was trying to drink her problems. It might have been brief, just eye contact from across the room with an occasional smile.
Soon turned to her singing directly at him and stumbled when he flashed her smile. He made her a mess and she loved every butterfly that fluttered in her stomach. “All these feelings, I could never find.”
The first time he tried to speak to her was when she was leaving, (Name)'s heart raced as she found herself face-to-face with Alastor. His presence, so close and unexpected, left her speechless, her mind reeling with anxiety. She stood on unsteady legs as the world around her seemed to blur.
“The right words to explain…” (Name) couldn’t escape her memory as she watched her younger self make a fool of herself.
Alastor was trying to say something, but she couldn’t hear it. There was too much alcohol in her system and it was making her woozy. With a shake of her head, without a word, she turned and bolted from the bar, her heels pounding against the pavement.
“Like the snow, all my love,” She followed them out into her memory palace as she stayed an outsider in her memories.
(Name) would feel her aching feet in the morning as she practically sprinted down the street. Alastor ran after her after his surprise wore off. She didn’t even realize that she was going to leave without her jacket and that it was in his hands.
“Falling down from above,”
He tried to call out to her but that only pushed her to run faster. She was almost back to her parent’s house when Alastor caught up to her and grabbed her wrist. Her head snapped back as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. Alastor looked so disheveled with his glasses falling off his nose with the mess of curls his hair became.
“In time,” (Name) could feel her lips curling into a wistful smile as she remembered how young they were back then. They had to be in their early twenties with the whole world in front of them.
(Name) was grateful for the alcohol casting a pink flush across her cheeks. She couldn’t help herself and muttered ‘You’re beautiful’ in her drunken haze. In that moment, with his disheveled appearance and the intensity of his gaze, Alastor looked more beautiful to her than ever before.
(Name)'s gaze drifted down to her wrist, where Alastor's touch lingered, firm yet gentle. His fingertips pressed against her skin with a softness that made her heart flutter. It was too considerate, he was trying to get her to slow down and stop hurting her feet. If he didn’t stop her here, she probably would’ve run all the way home.
“It piles high, as if to touch the sky.”
Alastor held into her hand for what felt like an eternity, as the starry sky framed his body. He wasn’t doing anything to help the deep blush growing on her face. His disheveled appearance was doing something horrible to her heart. It was racing as it pounded in her ears. How she observed his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was truly something else.
As they strolled down the streets, Alastor walked by her side, her wrist free from his grasp. There was enough space between them where no one would have any misunderstandings. He was being a gentleman and just walking her back to her parent’s house. The air was filled with a sense of calm, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of nocturnal creatures.
She tried to bridge the silence with small talk and it was a futile attempt to make time go by. The only topic she thought of was the stars hanging above them. The tapestry of twinkling little lights that shined down on them made him seem like a prince. Her eyes kept falling back to him as he glanced up at the sky.
Alastor, his eyes narrowing with a subtle intensity, as he looked for the star she was pointing at. Alastor, his eyes narrowing as he focused his gaze made her heart skip a beat. The faintest adjustment of his glasses added an air of mystery. How his eyes glittered as the stars reflected in them. I
In her unaware state, (Name)'s steps faltered, and she stumbled over her own feet. The ground approached swiftly, before she hit the ground Alastor's swift reflexes intervened. He caught her by the waist, his grip firm yet gentle, and she was speechless.
“Hold me tight,”
Alastor's proximity seemed to tiptoe the line between comfort and unease. His cologne was casting a spell that was leaving (Name)'s senses reeling. (Name)'s thoughts raced, she found herself ensnared by the intensity of Alastor's brown eyes. His gaze, like a whirlpool pulling her deeper into its depths, seemed to swallow any words of thanks that dared to escape her lips. (Name) felt her defenses crumble, her honey-colored eyes meeting him in a silent exchange that spoke volumes.
“This can’t be right.”
With a gentle yet firm grip, Alastor helped (Name) back to her feet. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, this was awkward but it didn’t matter to her. (Name) couldn't help but feel grateful that he didn't mention her goofy expression.
As he extended his arm, a silent invitation for her to lean on him, and she gladly accepted. Despite his seemingly unassuming demeanor, Alastor's build proved to be surprisingly strong and supportive. As he walked her back home, it was a short and sweet little walk.
“This can’t be how it’s meant to feel,” (Name) remembered the butterflies that flew wildly in her stomach too well. How she could barely get a sentence in without making herself look a fool.
Alastor, with a casual ease, left (Name) at her doorstep, his steps carrying him back toward the bar. (Name) couldn't let him slip away so easily. With a determined yell, she shouted for him to stop and give her his name.
Turning around, Alastor met her gaze with a soft smile, turning her legs into jelly. He told her to ask again when she would remember it and not drunk. That would be the only time he’d tell her.
“But I can’t turn back time now cause,”
The front door slammed shut with a resounding echo. (Name)'s hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, waking her parents who jumped to their feet. Throwing open the door of her childhood room and collapsing into her mattress. Her hands found purchase in her pillows and dragged it to her chest.
“I love you,”
With each ragged breath, (Name)'s heart threatened to break free from the confines of her chest. Her hands clenched the soft fabric of her pillows, and the sound of hurried footsteps approached. Her father, his face etched with worry, burst into the room, his protective instinct driving him to her side.
With tear-streaked cheeks and trembling lips, (Name) found herself facing the weight of her father's gaze. She found herself blurting out the words that lingered on the tip of her tongue.
‘Papa, I think I love him.’ That’s what (Name) said to her father without a second thought. Her father’s eyes widened as his jaw hung open. Without a word, he swiftly departed from her room, his hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor. Fortunately, Alastor was already around the corner and out of her father’s view. As he returned, he told her to get some sleep and left a kiss on her forehead.
“I only wish it wasn’t true,” If she didn’t love him she wouldn’t be in this position. Perhaps, a loveless marriage would’ve been better.
What (Name) would give to return back the clock and return to the days when she was able to meet him. Do things over with the knowledge she already has. Make some terrible decisions and fall into hell with him.
“I wish I could forget - Wish that we’d never met.”
It hurts, everything hurts. Looking back at a past that didn’t matter. How the start of everything seemed so perfect. The small interactions at the bar and the drunken walks back home always coming back without his name. If only she knew that everything would end up like this, maybe she’d rethink her choices.
“Inside my heart, I know - Eternal Snow.” How she wanted to see him as opened her eyes and glanced up at the ceiling.
She was unfortunately still back in the empty lobby without their guest anywhere to be seen. It was probably for the best, she wasn’t in the best headspace to interact with anyone.
“Do you know, you’re still in my dreams?” He really was, her every thought was consumed by him as he became her strength to survive in heaven.
As (Name) pulled herself up, her movements felt heavy, burdened by the weight of her emotions. Her feet dragged across the floor, reluctant to carry her forward. She watched the sinners walk by as she hid herself in the dark nook. “How much longer till you let me sleep?” (Name) searched for Alastor in every person who walked by and he never did.
“One day, I pray that it might.” (Name) tore herself from the window and returned to her seat. She was being stupid and this whole thing was idiotic. “Just take one candle’s flame.”
(Name)'s voice faltered as the door creaked open, a shaft of light piercing the darkness of her solitude. With a sudden sense of unease, she fell silent, her song dissipating into the quiet of the room like wisps of smoke. A blonde girl peaked her head and quickly looked around the dark room.
She hesitantly walked in she looked around like she just entered a haunted house as she muttered something under her breath. There was a certain warmth in the girl’s demeanor as she cautiously approached the front desk.
(Name)'s voice, though gentle, seemed to startle the girl as she jumped slightly. ”You look lost, honey.” As Charlie's head snapped in her direction, (Name) couldn't help but notice the flicker of nervousness across her expression.
The girl explained with a lightness in her voice that carried a hint of nervousness. “My dad asked me to come to this meeting for him.” She had a voice that was filled with sugar and everything nice and that was (Name)’s signal that this wasn’t going to go well.
(Name) couldn't help but feel a tinge of surprise. "Oh," She responded, there was a moment before she continued. “You're the Morningstar's daughter?" (Name) tried to dig for any mentions of the girl’s name during her time in heaven.
The blonde girl, with an upbeat attitude that bordered on naivety, confirmed her identity with a bright affirmation. "Right. I’m Charlie!" she exclaimed, as if her name carried a contagious enthusiasm that lit up the room.
“(Name).” Her introduction carried a tone of measured formality, a stark contrast to Charlie's effervescent enthusiasm. “I’ll be taking care of you during your meeting with heaven.”
As she extended her hand in greeting, (Name)'s gaze lingered briefly on the dried blood that marred her skin—from all the sinners killed an hour earlier. (Name) felt a pang of unease, a discomfort born from the knowledge that she stood before a princess. Not that Charlie carried an air of royalty, but she didn’t want to be rude to the girl. It just didn't feel right to shake Charlie's hand with blood-stained fingers
"I apologize for my appearance," (Name) apologized as she tried to wipe her hands on her dress. "I didn't have time to clean off the blood."
“Oh! Righttt, that’s okay. Don’t be so formal.” Charlie seemed like a really sweet girl and she couldn’t worry that Adam would be a complete mockery of her.
“Understood.” (Name) couldn’t follow that request. “As you’re here early, is there anything you want to run by me?”
“Oh! There’s a proposal I’ve been working on!” Charlie whipped out a thick stack of papers full of drawings. They were colorful and all drawn with crayons.
(Name) could feel a nervous sweat go down her face. Charlie was going to be laughed out of the room for sure. “Let’s hear it.”
“I know Hell's population is out of control. It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll. If we rehab these sinners,” Charlie spoke quickly and in one breath. She took another deep breath and continued. “Extermination, I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year.” (Name)’s shoulders dropped and her hope for a good meeting going well went out the window.
“Charlie.” (Name) tried to stop her, she was too pure for this. Adam was going to spit and laugh at her efforts.
Charlie didn’t stop, she was too focused on explaining her proposal. “And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here. If they join you in Heaven, that trip disappears!”
“Charlie, you're going to be laughed out of that meeting," (Name)'s voice, tinged with a hint of concern. (Name) wanted to think her pure intentions would work.
"They'll listen to what I have to say," Charlie's response, though laced with unwavering determination, did little to assuage (Name)'s fears.
"You don't understand. You're having a meeting with Adam, and he will chew and spit all over your proposal,"
"That's alright! You're not the only one who's told me that," Charlie's response, broke her heart. Charlie was just a kid, this shouldn’t have been something people should’ve told her.
"It's a lovely idea,"
"Thanks. Do you think it could work?" Charlie's question made her think if could work in practice. There was little she understood about souls or if souls could be redeemed.
"I don't know. I have no idea what the criteria would be. It's a nice thought," (Name)'s response, though tinged with uncertainty.
“I think it’s possible.” Charlie wasn’t going to drop her dream so easily as she signed her name into a floating scroll.
(Name) walked over to the elevator and motioned her inside. “Don’t be too upset.”
As the elevator ascended towards the awaiting offices where Adam and Lute awaited them, the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air. (Name)'s parting words to Charlie echoed in the confines of the elevator, a gentle reminder that Charlie didn’t take.
(Name) opened the door for them and quickly stepped back outside the office as the doors slid open. “Maven! Get your ass back in here.” However, before she could retreat further, Adam's commanding voice called her back into the room.
“As you wish.” With a resigned sigh, (Name) acquiesced, her movements fluid as she leaned against the doorframe.
💟
Charlie’s meeting went poorly as (Name) warned her it would. The poor girl looked defeated as she received terrible news and one that would probably bring the death of thousands.
For (Name), the extermination coming early left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. On one hand, it meant she would have the opportunity to see Alastor again, a thought that brought her both comfort and dread.
Her heart went out to Charlie as she saw the expression on her face. It hurt to look at. How she hated that people like Charlie were her weakness. (Name) was an exorcist, there shouldn’t be any room for empathy. There should only be hatred for Charlie and her people. She should be laughing her out of the room and taunting her. That’s what Adam and Lute would be wanting her to do.
(Name) was silent until they reached the lobby and started walking her out. There was something that wanted to make Charlie at least leave with a smile on her face. She reminded her too much of her younger sister and her foolishly large dreams.
With a hint of nervousness, (Name) bit the inside of her cheek to cast them aside. “I believe that the words that he told you are not your grave.” Her voice was soft, slightly above a whisper.
"He didn't even listen to me," Charlie responded with frustration laced in her every word. “There’s nothing I can do if Heaven doesn’t listen.”
(Name) stopped walking and patted one of the seats nearby. ��And I believe that you can make them listen.” As hopeless as Charlie’s situation was, there was something that could still be taken out of this. “Darkness reminds us where light can be.”
Charlie, though wearied, managed a smile as she took a seat, the weight of disappointment evident in her posture. "I couldn't protect them."
"I have been where you are before," (Name) was in her shoes back when she first started as an exorcist. She knew how it felt, feeling like you couldn’t save anyone. When you had absolutely no power to change another's fate.
Despite the stains on her hands, she took Charlie's hand into her own. "Do you believe they can be redeemed?"
"Of course! More than anything, they're good people deep, deep down, "
“Then, even all the cruelest sinners can start again.”
"Thanks for believing in me," Charlie expressed her gratitude with a tight squeeze, a gesture that resonated with an unexpected warmth.
(Name), frozen in surprise, couldn't pinpoint the source of the sudden change in her demeanor. She waved her out of the building and collapsed back into the seat.
“Charlie. I hope your idea works.” She muttered to herself.
💟
Upon her return to heaven, (Name) was faced with the imposing presence of Adam and Lute. The sight of them waiting for her sent a ripple of dread down her spine. As Adam flung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her uncomfortably close, (Name)'s senses bristled with discomfort. The proximity of his touch, coupled with the weight of his presence, felt suffocating.
"We have a gift for you, Maven," Adam announced with a grin with Lute by his side.
“What sort of gift?” The uncertainty of what awaited her fueled the knot of anxiety that coiled in her stomach. It made her want to throw up.
"Since the extermination is coming early," Adam seemed awfully proud of himself as he spoke, his words dripping with ominous intent, "It's time for a little upgrade."
Forcing herself out of his grip and retreated back several steps. “I haven’t done anything to deserve any gifts.”
"Yeah? I saw you getting awfully cozy with Lucifer's brat," Adam spat in disgust, his disdain evident. "You don't think her lame-ass idea will actually work."
“It could. We have no proof against it.”
"Maven, you're speaking like a little traitor," Lute interjected, her anger simmering beneath the surface like a dormant volcano on the verge of eruption.
"Think about it, Maven. If you get sent down there and her little idea works," Adam's voice cut through the tension like a blade, his words laden with a veiled threat that sent a shiver down her spine.
"What are you trying to say, Adam?" The implications were clear as day and she didn’t want them to be spoken into reality.
"What if your man gets redeemed," Adam's words pierced her heart, the man was picking at low-hanging fruit. (Name)'s expression hardened, as her hands twitched to beat his sorry ass into next week. "Using your logic, there's no proof that fallen bitches can too."
The venom in his words ignited a firestorm of emotion within her, and (Name) couldn't help but snap back. “Are you being fucking serious?"
“Watch your tone.”
"Time you make your choice, bitch," Adam's ultimatum hung in the air as his hand was stretched out for her to grasp.
(Name) glared at his outstretched hand, her frustration boiling beneath the surface as she reluctantly accepted it. "Fuck you, Adam," She spat. What she would give to bury him in a thick layer of dirt.
Adam's grin widened as his grip tightened around her hand, his condescending tone cutting through the air. "Good girl," His words dripped with patronizing satisfaction.
The soft shade of golden light enveloped her body as the blessing coursed through her veins, igniting her vocal cords with a fiery sensation. Though the blessings were never physically painful, the internal panic they stirred was undeniable. It was her first blessing since her encounter with Alastor, and his influence on her loyalty was becoming increasingly evident.
Adam's eyes widened with a twisted pleasure as (Name) fell to her knees, grasping at her chest in agony. “Hurt’s doesn’t, Maven?” He cooed.
"What did you do?" she spat out through painful gasps of air, her voice straining with every word she spoke.
"Can't you see a blessing when you see one?" Lute asked coldly as she delivered a kick that sent (Name) sprawling. "If heaven’s light is hurting you, what do you think is happening?"
(Name) pushed herself off the floor, sending Lute a glare that matched the intensity of her pain. “Am I being rejected by heaven?”
“Ding ding, we have a winner!” Adam mocked with his signature finger guns pointed her way.
(Name) rushed to the closest mirror and examined her halo. There, amidst the ring of pure ivory, was the faintest red glow. “No, no, no.” Her fingers clenched around her halo as she desperately prayed away the blight.
“Remember what side you’re on, Maven.”
“What side are you on?” Lute's question pierced through the chaos, dragging (Name) away from the mirror and forcing her back.
(Name) remained silent for a long while, her mind swirling with her options. If Alastor sought redemption and achieved it. He would return to heaven, and their reunion would be glorious. However, if she succumbed to becoming a fallen angel and Alastor found redemption, they would be back at square one, torn apart once again. There seemed to be no clear option, no path forward that guaranteed their happiness — But, one.
“Heaven’s. Now and forever.”
(Name) couldn't escape the weight of her own self-doubt. She berated herself for her tendency to bend to every hint of a problem, for her inability to stand firm in her convictions. The conversation with Charlie echoed in her mind, her words of encouragement now haunting her as evidence of her own hypocrisy. Despite urging Charlie to believe in the possibility of redeeming sinners, (Name) couldn't help but feel like a fraud, unable to practice what she preached.
“What sort of blessing did you give me?” (Name) asked from the pits of her self-hatred.
Adam glanced back with a scoff. "Wouldn’t you like to know," His words dripped with disdain and a hint of sadistic pleasure.
With that, they both left and left her there. As they faded from her sight (Name) returned back to her room. (Name)'s room became a chamber of her turmoil. With a surge of pent-up emotions, she hurled her vase across the room, the sound of shattering pottery echoing back in her ears. Collapsing against the door, she sank to the floor, tears streaming down her face as she surrendered to the weight of her despair, her cries muffled by the fabric of her knees.
💟
Months passed as word reached (Name)’s ears about Charlie’s visit to Heaven. Even as Lute and Adam’s shadow, she did her best to avoid her. Mostly because she didn’t want to be forced into bullying her. She was here for important business, not Adam and Lute’s antics.
Unfortunately for Charlie, the extermination wasn’t called off. But, she did reveal the truth to Heaven’s Court. Which was enough of a win as they were all arrogant to the truth. Of course, (Name) was there during that meeting. She was back by the door leaning on the wall and prayed that she could go back to her room.
(Name) was in the worst of moods up until the extermination. She had spent most of her time in confessional or praying her sins away. Trying to rid herself of her blight and unfortunately for her — the red slowly spread. The crimson hue reminded her of the blood on her hands and she wanted to vomit.
The hype around this extermination was grand as Adam made a declaration to Charlie that their extermination would go after her hotel first. While she had been tasked with haunting children before, it had always been under orders, and she had never known them personally. However, meeting Charlie changed things; she recognized more goodness in Charlie than in Adam and Lute combined. Having to strike her down made her sick to her stomach.
Her hotel had its merits too. If sinners could find redemption there, families wouldn't have to endure the agony of separation. People would have the opportunity for second chances, the chance to make better choices. Better choices weren't something she could have. She had made her choice and had to lay with them now.
Breaking down Charlie's hotel meant shattering not just the physical structure but also the dream that accompanied it. The work wouldn’t be something that wouldn’t linger in her consciousness. It had personal stakes for her too. Extinguishing Charlie’s hope came at the cost of her own hope. With Charlie and her hotel gone, Alastor wouldn’t ever come to heaven.
It absolutely broke her. However, Alastor wouldn’t willingly work with someone like Charlie. Heavens, she didn’t know if they even knew each other. Which was the only hope she had left as she prayed for him to survive.
“Are you ready yet?” Lute asked from the other side of the changing room door.
(Name) took one last look at her clothing and exuded an air of mourning. The long black dress, with its multiple layers of fabric, draped fluidly, creating an ethereal silhouette. Her hands were adorned with delicate black lace gloves. They matched the veil that she threw over her face.
The absence of armor, even chainmail, spoke volumes about her intent. This was a slaughter, not something that should be celebrated. If she was lucky and Charlie did put up a fight. She’d do her a favor and put her out of her misery.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” (Name) tone was one of defeat as she grabbed her ivory halberd.
“That’s a good look on you, Maven.” Lute’s compliment seemed more like a taunt than anything genuine.
"I don't want to hear your compliments, Lute," (Name) retorted, her voice devoid of any emotion as she brushed past her and returned to Adam's side.
They arrived just in time to catch the last of his fiery speech. "Let’s fucking kill that brat!" His voice thundered, resonating with aggression and malice as the familiar portal ripped open.
💟
On Adam’s signal, everyone dove into Hell’s skies, they found themselves in front of Charlie’s grand hotel. Her eyes looked over the soon-to-be battlefield, catching sight of a very familiar face grinning up at them from the roof of the hotel. It was Alastor, standing tall and proud, with a devilish smile playing on his lips. Her heart dropped, Alastor was working with Charlie.
She would have to cut him down.
(Name)'s weapon fell loose in her grip as she flew next to Adam. “Alastor?” she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the rushing wind. Adam grabbed her arm and shoved her forward.
“Fucking sing, I don’t care who has your panties in a twist. You better fucking sing like your life depends on it,” Adam barked.
(Name) looked back at Adam, then down at Alastor, shaking her head furiously. She looked like she was going to cry and she wanted to.
“No…I can’t. I can’t bring myself to hurt him,” (Name) tried to protest as Adam flew over to her. But her small act of defiance was met with brutality as Adam yanked her up by her hair, her fingers tightening around her halberd.
Alastor’s eyes narrowed as static filled the air. It was a warning of sorts, even if he was smiling he was about to beat Adam to a bloody pulp.
"What was that?" Adam's grip tightened on (Name)'s arm as she let out a small cry of pain.
(Name)'s voice was firm. “I said no, Adam.” Her eyes returned to Alastor who gave her a look asking if she wanted him to step in.
Adam's eyes narrowed as they followed her gaze, landing on Alastor who stood defiantly below them. "Oh, I'll just kill him first," Adam's words cut through the air like a blade, causing (Name)'s heart to plummet.
"Adam, please. Don't hurt him," (Name)'s plea was tinged with desperation, her voice quivering with fear at the thought of Alastor's demise.
“Then fucking sing," Adam's commanded.
(Name) had no choice but to listen. Her wings sliced through the air as she ascended higher into the sky. Her halberd remained held horizontally in her hands, she looked down at Alastor with an apologetic expression. In that fleeting moment, she saw his eyes narrow and his brows rise.
“A cowardly façade weaves into my voice.” Her words trembled with emotion as her body began to glow with a soft, golden hue. A shimmering shield materialized around her, encircling her form like a protective barrier.
At the same time, Adam shot her a piercing glare, a silent demand for her to sing with conviction, a signal for the attack to start.
Her body began to glow brighter as she continued. “As I call for war, blinded by this far-fetched noble cause.” (Name) could only watch as her fellow exorcists charge towards the hotel as an eldritch shield appears to surround the hotel to cage the unlucky few who found themselves stuck inside.
She noticed how the exorcist’s bodies matched the same glow as hers, and her heart shattered. That was the power Adam gave her, as the occasional wound appeared on her body, as the exorcists obtained them as well. The wounds didn’t last long, but this was a double-edged sword.
“Although I had a choice, I believed the lies.”
Whatever that shield was that Alastor cast was horrific. Tentacles sprouted forth and waved them without rhyme or reason. Some even held angelic weapons as they swung wildly, their range was insane as they cleaved through the sky.
“But it's all a dream, ending when I open up my eyes.”
She really wanted to know what this blessing was as her blood poured from a large gash down her arm. This was a little extreme even for Adam. Even if she wasn’t the one experiencing the injury, she could feel it and had to sing through her pain.
Her voice flattered as she watched her blood drip into the ground below. “I tried to survive by putting all my faith in instinct,” Adam was going to have her killed here.
The tentacles lashed out with surprising strength, catching (Name) off guard and knocking her out of the air. She struggled against the grip, wielding her halberd to slice through the tentacle and break free. Alastor's shield proved formidable, repelling other angels who attempted to breach its defenses. She felt a hint of pride seeing her husband flaunting his power.
“I stand gazing down at death as they say...war.” She had to keep her distance from the shield as she ducked and weaved out of the tentacle's grip. It seemed like they were targeting her specifically and trying to get her out of the sky.
(Name) caught a glimpse of Alastor’s gaze following her as she dodged his attempts to grab her. “They say fight for peace... but what is that?”
“Raise a shield to the bullets, Hold my ground, all I got now.” She was getting dangerously close to the shield now as she saw the crowd of sinners protecting the hotel. Charlie was amongst them too.
They were fighting desperately to stay alive and fight off the angels. Much to her surprise, they were killing them too. “But I'm defenseless, all but helpless if it gives beneath my feet,”
Her song started to sound like a desperate scream for help. To end her suffering and finally put her to rest. (Name) couldn’t do this anymore as she tried to find Adam amongst the crowd of angels. She put her trust in him to keep his word, the chances of him keeping it were low. But, he just had to keep his word. Alastor’s life was on the line if he didn’t.
The searing pain in her abdomen drew (Name)'s attention downward, her fingers tracing the dark stain on her dress. With a trembling hand, she pressed against the wound, feeling the warmth of her own blood seep through her fingers. It was a rather crippling blow as she knew if she took another or tried to fight anyone in melee combat she’d die.
She just prayed she didn’t have to as she retreated to Adam’s side.
Lute was nowhere to be found. She was leading the initial charge before the shield went up and was probably trapped inside.
As Adam's rage echoed through the air, (Name) didn’t have the time to react. She watched helplessly as he hurled himself toward the eldritch shield with reckless abandon.
“I’m fucking over this!”
A banshee scream left her lips. “No!” As she watched the shield start to crack from the impact site and shatter into a million pieces before disappearing completely.
She flew after Adam ignoring the wound that dripped blood down on anyone below them. (Name)'s hand reached out with urgency, grasping Adam's wrist in a desperate attempt to halt his reckless advance towards Alastor. Despite the searing pain from her own wounds, she refused to let him hurt her husband.
“Adam , please .” (Name)'s voice quivered with desperation on the verge of being swallowed by betrayal. “You promised.”
“I didn’t promise jack shit .” Adam didn’t turn around; he kept flying down to the rooftop and left her there.
"You gave me your word!" She screamed, her halo pulsating with a deep crimson hue.
He wanted me to sing. I’ll give him a performance, he’ll never forget.
“I will rise in resistance,” As she clenched her hands down on her halberd the previous glow flickered from around the exorcists. “Sing the oath of rebellion. ” She flew high as she watched every shield and blessing she cast on the exorcists flicker and fade.
Adam's voice thundered across the battlefield, “Maven! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He roared as he felt her protection disappear.
All she responded with was a dark glare that said ‘fuck you, Adam. I hope you die’.
As Adam turned his back on Alastor and turned his anger towards her. A crimson barrier appeared around Charlie and her friends. “Wipe away the weakness,”
“You’re going to fall! Do you no longer give a shit about that?” Adam screamed as he shot beams of light at her.
(Name) dodged his attacks as she pointed her halberd at him. “Better than supporting a liar.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you!”
"You can try.”
(Name) knew it was only a matter of time until he caught up with her and followed through with his threat. All she could do now was support them the best she could until the light finally left her eyes.
“Will you let those scars define you?” Oh, how she knew this was a death wish. She could barely dodge out of the way from the beams coming at her in rapid succession.
Adam was right on her heels as she brought him skyward and away from Alastor. “I say, liar. I say rise in hell.” As the last note escaped her lips Adam grabbed her ankle and threw her down against the hotel roof.
A scream left her lips as her blood escaped her lips and was welcomed by Adam standing over her with his guitar ax raised high in the air. (Name)'s scream pierced the air as Adam's guitar ax loomed menacingly over her. Her gaze shifted to Alastor, who approached with growing antlers, a harbinger of impending danger. But before he could intervene, Adam's blade descended, slicing across her chest. The wound wasn't immediately fatal, but without treatment, she would bleed out with enough time.
“Just lay there and watch, bitch.”
Adam returned to the air as he stared at the demon before him as Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed with anger even with a smile plastered on his face.
“Adam, first man, next to die.” Alastor seemed angry and yet confident.
“Who the fuck are you?” Adam asked with a shit-eating grin on his face. He was getting cocky and (Name) hoped he could use it to his advantage.
The small bow he did was an unneeded flourish, but it did warm her heart slightly. “Alastor, a pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure. ” His grin increased as his gaze flickered back to her as she struggled to get up.
(Name) forced him a smile as blood poured out, by some sort of miracle her organs weren’t falling out.
“I’m about to end your fucking life.”
With electric currents of demonic magic, Alastor created tentacles from the ground. He looked absolutely terrifying, he didn’t look like her husband anymore with that look in his eye.
As she struggled to get off the ground their voices seemed to grow more distant. Adam seemed to have taken Alastor’s bait and was now charging into his attacks blindly. When Adam landed a missed blow that placed his feet on the rooftop and she knew Alastor could have a chance of winning.
Finally managing to pull herself off the floor enough to sit up though, it was probably pretty foolish as every cell in her body screamed in pain. It was like someone set fire to her nerves. She needed to get up and help him or he could actually die. Her husband was a smart man, but Adam had the strength advantage.
As the men danced around the rooftop as Alastor dodged and weaved from his attacks. Getting a hit in here or two using his shadows and familiars to annoy Adam to give him openings.
She wished she could actually see the fight and see Alastor wipe the floor with Adam in battle. But her vision was blurring as the world spun. She was getting closer to her death.
(Name) tried to grasp onto her halberd and use it to pull herself up. Just so she could do something to help.
“One day you will realize,” She could at least do this much, her voice didn’t project anything higher than a whisper. Nothing happened. She didn’t have enough strength to sing.
She had to keep trying, she needed to help him. (Name) needed to save Alastor. As her world blurred and crashed into one another. Her thoughts remained with him. She would give anything in the world to see him see another day.
My belle, my beautiful bride. Thank you for always staying with me. (Name) smiled at the memory of Alastor’s personal little vows to her. How she wished to spend more time with him.
There was a flash of light and Alastor was in front of her with his broken mic stand in his hands. He glanced down before Adam threw him next to her. (Name) pulled herself to his side and placed the weakest touch against his cheek.
“ I love you, my dearly beloved. ” Her smile was faint as she saw Adam’s shadow over them.
Give me strength. I don’t care if I die. Take the dying embers of my life if it means I can save him. I’ll give you everything I have. My soul, my memory, whatever you want. God, please. Help me. (Name) begged to whatever higher power to hear her. She wasn’t asking for much, just enough power or strength to save him.
“My Dearly Beloved,” Her voice rang out through the hotel as she pulled Alastor into her embrace. “Be strong, I shall be there.” Her voice was louder than she expected as she felt her soul burn from within her chest.
“You’re still not dead, bitch!” Adam groaned as (Name) gently leaned Alastor against the railing and forced her shaky legs up. He was clutching his chest, his wound was deep. But, it wouldn’t be fatal if he left now.
(Name) blocked Adam from reaching her dear husband. “Always here beside you,” Adam had his weapon raised and she didn’t back down. “So, keep your head held high.” (Name) glanced back at him with pleading eyes for him to flee.
The ax came down knocking her off her feet as her golden blood splashed all over Alastor’s face. She fell over top of him and tried to pull herself back to her knees. He wasn’t gone yet, she wouldn’t stay down until Alastor escaped.
She could barely speak as she smiled at the faintest crimson glow surrounding him into a warm embrace.
Adam’s ax found its target as it went through her stomach. “Will try to steal you away into their arms,” This was it, she was probably going to die. “But you belong in mine…”
As her words fizzled out so did her protection and she collapsed into his chest. The world was fading to black as Alastor held her close to him as she felt herself sinking into the depths.
Her last thoughts before she faded completely were the following.
I love you, Alastor.
I’m sorry, I couldn't get back to you sooner.
Don’t worry, my beloved. We’ll meet again.
That’s a promise.
Take care of yourself,
I’ll always be there with you in spirit.
Always next to your side,
You won’t ever be truly alone.
Keep smiling for me.
Thank you for reading this disaster. I might make it into a series, I've have been seriously thinking about it. Which is why it has an open ending.
She could have died or she didn't. Who knows.
The songs are:
Eternal Snow from Full Moon wo Sagashite
ALIEz from Aldnoah Zero
My Dearly beloved from Kingdom Hearts
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SINNER "Judgement Day" 1996, The German Band's Signature Album
The year was 1997. The internet had been around for a few years. For those of us who were still “stuck” in the 80’s (as I was often told), the internet was an amazing tool to find bands who had stuck to their guns through the Grunge years. As it turns out there were many of them around the world and some places where true Rock and Metal never really went away.
I was in the early stages of my…
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(The Metal Gods Meltdown)
#SoundCloud#music#The Metal Gods Meltdown#Mat Sinner#The Metal Gods Meltdown#Rulebreaker#Seb Di Gatto
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They're coming
Zestial is having a nice walk when he stumbles on a pregnant sinner in labor.
I pulled it from my meh section. I figured it was fun enough to share.
Life was cruel, and hell moreso. Yet there were moments Zestial was shocked at how cruel. He was taking a late night walk when he saw her. A pregnant woman who was struggling. Dirt and blood matted her white hair, her clothes torn to shreds. Yet the fire in her eyes was still burning like an inferno.
Zestial raised his cloak and then dropped it so the pair were in his apartment.
“What do- ah,” The woman clutched her stomach.
“Is thou alright?” Zestial asked, suddenly wondering if he should have brought her to Rosie and not his apartment. The blood, however, might have set her subjects off.
“They’re coming,” she panted.
“I will fight them off.”
“No, tonto, the baby is coming,” she whimpered. Zestial froze before grabbing his phone. He called Rosie three times before she answered.
“Zestial? It's three in the morning?”
“Apologies, I have a woman in my apartment.”
“...is your love life so bad that you want to brag about it?”
“She is having a baby.”
“In your apartment?”
“Correct, what do I do?”
“Ok, first, towels, warm water and make sure there's no fabric stopping the baby from coming out, I will be there as fast as I can.”
Zestial grabbed the supplies Rosie asked for. The woman was a bit kicky when he was trying to remove her clothes. Rosie was still in her sleepwear when she finally came. She ordered Zestial around, eventually handing him a light skinned baby with a tuff of blond hair.
“Hold on, there's a second,” Rosie said, and he found himself holding a darker skinned one with a curly white tuff.
“Enchanting,” Zestial whispered, both babies snoozing on his chest as Rosie cleaned up the woman.
“Ok, Zestial, who is she and how did this happen? Last I checked, you’re a sinner, so they're not yours,” Rosie sighed.
“My name is Carmilla, he found me in an alley,” the woman said, groaning as she sat up, “I would like to hold my children.”
Zestial wasn’t paying attention to the adult girls, he was fully in love with the two on his chest. Rosie came over and plucked them off, “hey!”
“Carmilla wants to hold them, why don't you find some manners and make some food? I bet the poor girl is starving,” Rosie ordered.
“Pray tell, where do I buy formula at this hour?” Zestial asked.
“Food for US, not the babies,” Rosie sighed, “at least you know you're in good hands.”
“I still have no clue who either of you are,” Carmilla smiled at her babies.
“Well judging by his reaction, you’re going to learn who we are,” Rosie smiled at the babies, “what are their names?”
“I think I’ll name them Clara and Odette.”
//////
Zestial had learned a lot since Carmilla started to live with him, one of the things was when their daughters were nervous or uncomfortable. Odette showed her telltale signs of distress, like chewing on anything and everything.
“Mine dear,” Zestial said, causing the young girl to jump. They were in her lab, Zestial sitting in one of the chairs, a pot of tea and two cups out, “tell me, what ails thee?”
“Huh? Oh nothing, daddy,” Odette smiled. Zestial raised a brow, she only used ‘daddy’ when she was hiding something.
“Fear not, whatever ails thee, we can face together,” Zestial nudged the chair in front of him. Odette sighed and grabbed a paper from her desk before sitting down.
“Ok, so you know how I wanted to see what our blood types were?” Odette started, tearing the corner of the paper. Zestial nodded, “Me, Clara, and mom all have type O, you have AB.”
“And that troubles thee?” Zestial took a sip of tea.
“An AB can not, like a negative zero percent chance, produce an O baby. It means, well it means mom cheated on you,” Odette closed her eyes, only to open them when Zestial started to laugh.
“Apologies, mine dear, I was not aware thou assumed I was thine sire. Nay, thou sees, I am a sinner, and sinners can not have children of their own.” Zestial rubbed her arm before pulling her into a hug.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” all of Odette’s stress melted off. The fear of a fight and breakup becoming a distant memory.
“Never relevant, I suppose. Thou is mine daughter, blood or nay, and the same to Clara.” Zestial hummed a song, running his fingers through her hair.
He remembered meeting Carmilla, the woman was bruised, bloody and in labor in an alleyway. He took her to his apartment where she had twins right on his floor. His plan was originally to help her get on her feet and send her off, maybe pass her over to Rosie, but one look at the two newborns and he was snared.
“Do you know who our sire is?” Odette asked.
“Nay, does it matter?”
“No, I guess not.”
Clara came in, asking about some tests on the latest weapons when she saw them, “did you tell him?”
“Yeah, apparently he knew from the beginning and just never told us.”
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Wait, no, please share. I need to see the darkness 👀
a/n: you asked for it, also this is half shit written cus its just a blurb lol
WARNING TAGS: Violence, religious trauma, death, blood
Platonic Relationship: MotherFigure!Natasha x DaughterFigure!Reader
You’re a freak, a monster, a killer. The girl under you had told you as much.
The skin on your knuckles splits and tears as your hands continue to collide with the helpless prey beneath you. Small droplets of blood scatter and spray the mats covering the floor.
Please, for the love of god, stop me now.
The girl under you cries and begs, but it only spurs you on. It’s like you can see her life force, clutched in your greedy palms, you just need to use a bit more force. Then the voices will stop, your muscles will loosen, and the fear will dissipate. The bunny beneath you is suffering, you just want to help it.
She tries to kick you away, her legs slamming into your ribs, but as your hands take hold of her hair and smash her skull into the ground, you can’t feel it.
Please, God, embrace thy child and end her suffering.
The priest’s words echo; please God, forgive the sinner, and aid her prey.
You can feel Mira’s fingernails dig into the skin beside your eyes, her fingers slip and glide clumsily against your blank face.
She’s trying to dig her thumbs into your eye socket but the blood covering both of you makes her falter and you use her momentum against her and violently twist your elbow outward, crashing it into her outstretched arm, and there is a sickening crack as Mira screams in agony.
The redhead´s other hand yanks your hair violently before you can deliver the last blow.
Oh, please God, save this sick child.
Your bloodshot eyes stare widely at her shivering frame, Mira stares back at you, her fear evident in the way her pupils are nothing but a pin needle in a sea of endless green.
Please God, lay the monster dormant and return thy child to the great heavens above.
When you dig your knee into her stomach, the hand that had previously held you back loses its grip, and you can finally end it. It would only take eight ounces of force for your thumbs to penetrate the thin skin over the lower part of her jugular.
And yet-
You make the ultimate mistake.
As you straddle her and start digging your thumbs in, you look up at her young face. Tears roll down her chin, her face is pale and bloody. But her red hair falls like a hallow around her, and her eyes are the perfect resemblance to a familiar emerald, green.
Please God, save thy child. For thy child is alone.
Natasha was the only person to ever make you feel like you belonged. She was the only one to let you feel hope. Feel love.
Natasha was like the mother you never had.
Your small hands clasp the cross tightly and you kneel in front of the altar. The statues are intimidating as your little frame looks up at them in hope.
“Oh, please God, kill me before I can do more harm.” You spoke as clearly as you could into the cold crisp air inside the abandoned church.
You thought you were alone, but then a tall woman with angelic red hair had found you.
“What are you doing her kid?”
You're frozen above the scared girl as you come too.
“What have I done?” you whisper to yourself and quickly lift yourself to let the smaller girl free. However, just as you are about to stand. A white-hot agony shoots up your spine and you fall, the mat is cold and sticky, and you try to push yourself up with the use of your arms, but you can’t move.
There is something firm lodged in your back.
Natasha stands over your limp frame, she can feel the sweat on her palms glide against every nook and cranny as she stands there numbly, not being able to remove her eyes from the handle sticking out of your small back.
Natasha had done that.
She didn’t have a choice.
You had talked about this before…
That if the day ever came when you lost control.
That the redhead needed to do what was right.
She had to.
She had to.
Her knees creak in protest as they ram into the wet mat. Her fingers clutch and grasp at any part of you she can gather up. Your skin is already losing warmth and she curls around you in hopes of returning it. You wheeze when she pulls your body over hers.
You can’t feel anything, but the force against your lungs worsens as Natasha tries to apply pressure around the metal in your skin.
Thank you, God.
You can feel your mind slipping away from you, and the pressure starts consuming you. You can do nothing but use all of your last strength to muster up the words you never had the opportunity to say.
“I’m sorry mom.”
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One on One
Alastor x hunter(ess) reader
Summary: You and Alastor Spar :D
You were a very well-known hunter on Earth; your defense is what made you well-known. But apparently, you weren't so smart and went on a Werewolf hunt by yourself. You honestly thought it wouldn't be that bad, but the gash on your side said otherwise. Left alone to die, that's how you ended up in hell. From your time spent in hell, you heard of the Hazbin Hotel and the message it was trying to convey, and frankly, you believed in it. So, you stayed and became close friends with the fellow Sinners.
One more important figure was Alastor, The Radio Demon. He adored your fighting style and liked the idea that you were sweet but could tear a poor sinner's body in half with a blink of an eye. You had told him what you were on Earth, but since he died in the thirties, he had no idea that there were people who actually hunted demons and other beings like himself. However, he didn't fear you; no, he found it quite interesting, hence being close with him.
You two always teased each other, and you always flirted, but surprisingly he didn't seem to care. Usually, he would, but he knew you didn't really mean it, and he knew it was all a part of the teasing. You teased him about his fighting style, and just to get under your skin, he did the same, even though he adored it.
But on this day specifically, he wanted to put your fighting skills to the test, to see what your weaknesses were and what you were good at. You heard from the grapevine (Charlie) that Alastor wanted to see you. You were sent to his room, and he stood there with his usual smile. The fireplace was lit, making the room dim.
"Ah, splendid of you to join me, my dear," Alastor greeted with a head tilt. You saw something in his eyes that told you the deer demon was up to something, and you also knew he wasn't going to tell you. Alastor stepped forward to meet you in the center of the room. "Today, we shall focus on agility and precision. But before we delve into the specifics, let's warm up a bit, shall we?"
You snorted, "You're going to spar in that?" gesturing to his suit. He let out a laugh. Alastor then showed various techniques and maneuvers. His movements were lightning-fast yet precise, showcasing his mastery of combat. You easily blocked and dodged his attacks with such ease.
"Now, my dear, it's your turn," Alastor said, gesturing to you. You then threw some punches and kicks in which he too easily dodged and blocked. Once you had enough because you could barely get in any hits, you managed to kneel down and flip him over your shoulder; luckily there was a mat there in which he landed with a grunt. You shot him a triumphantly smile which soon ended when he swept your leg, sending you flying to the ground onto the mat.
You managed to roll backward and land right back onto your knee, which was a lot easier for you to regain your composure. The atmosphere in the room became charged with energy. The sound of fists meeting fists and feet hitting the mat filled the air as the two of you sparred, each exchange pushing you to your limits.
"Come on now, dear, you have to do better than that."
Alastor then left you no room to defend yourself, so you took him by surprise when you swept his leg and managed to get on top of him and pin him down, smiling proudly.
"Bet that, deer man," you smirked. Alastor's and your faces were mere inches apart; you pressed your advantage, pinning him to the ground. Your charade came to an end before you could revel in your victory; Alastor swiftly flipped your positions, effortlessly trapping you beneath him.
"BITCH!" you shouted.
"Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?" he purred, a devilish glint in his crimson eyes.
Now Alastor has noticed that you seem to use your surroundings when it came to fighting; there's a candle near you, you're using it. A stick, you're using it. But since this was all hands and legs, he's found your weakness. He watched you struggle to get him off you; he was much taller than you, his body practically covered yours as he hovered over you. But after a short while, you knocked his arm to his elbow and swept your leg to make more legroom for you to squeeze your body through, making it easier for you to bump him and get on top of him again.
You pinned his arms above his head, trying to catch your breath after all the effort you had just put in to get to that spot.
"Not bad, dear, not bad."
#alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#the radio demon#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor imagine#i have an obsession
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