so, i've been invisioning lamby in different relationships with the nobles and i thought about writing out how their dynamics would play out. i quickly realized that would be really long and i'd probably get some things wrong so, i used a tier list instead. hopefully this'll explain it better. if not, then goddamnit
Satan and gehena devil's would be the feared dangerous pirates everyone dreads and goes into panic when they see them, only to turn out to be there for the bars and are chill ( they can still fight and pillage but don't If ur chill )
Leviathan and hades nobes like Davy Jones type pirates, kinda like merpeople in some way, where they're mostly untraceable only to emerge from the bottom of the sea
Mammon and tartaros nobles would have a man made island ( managed by bimet) where they do on sea business (good business to use the desperate lost at the sea- bimets thoughts) they have multiple gold coated ships they go on crusades sometimes, there's not much need to it since it's mammons at the end of the day
Beelzeebub would always somehow end up on others ships, and they have no idea how ( imagine episode 1 luffy in that barrel, but that's just how he got on gehenna ship with their alcohol supply) worst offender is leviathans ship, how'd he get there they were literally under water for a year only for beel to ask when's dinner, abyssos meanwhile is a ship man made island, full of diners and night life activities ( like casinos dw), imagine sanji intro but grander
Belphegor has the military bases and ships, run by beleth of course, he thought it'd be easy, and it is cuz he doesn't do jack, it's mostly military ships and the islands they claimed ( no one else wanted them )
Asmodeus and abbadon, they're most feared and many islands and even ships have someone up watching the waves in fear of them, many lock up their virgins away in fear, but such things don't matter to abbadon much , they should lock their peepaws too, tho not always, they also love adventure and good company, tho not many to give em company
And paradise lost I have no idea what to do with them
Angels are the real military, each battalion under each seraph, all know for their own cruelty and corruption under the holy kingdoms rules, some angels went on their own becoming bounty hunters ( think jegudiel, selaphiel and barachiel)
How about Paradise Lost being a supplying ship for the other ships, like medical services, food, freshwater, etc? Let’s put the ship in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle kinda place, it’s peaceful regularly, but if Lucifer doesn’t allow anyone, their ships would crash to the bottom due to storms and abnormal activities. Also, unlike other ships that is constantly on the move, Paradise Lost remained around the same region because everyone would know where the ship is at to get support. It also moves, but for special needs only.
I'm on a train again! Time to get funny and write romance~
This one comes with a few Content Warnings so listen up:
Satan is kind of a villain here, this story contains references to domestic violence. You come to realize through a conversation with a healer that maybe all of the ways that Satan is treating you and hyping you up aren't actually healthy? Part 2 is in the works, probably on the way home
“You gotta be pregnant.”
“I’m not pregnant!” You laughed back, even though in your eyes being pregnant with a devil’s child was no laughing matter. Especially not this devil’s child. You were doing it to offset your nerves and placate him.
“... But what if you are?” Satan asked next, voice tame and even hopeful sounding as he rested his chin in your lap. Those big red eyes stared longingly at your belly and you suppressed a shudder.
A month and a half had passed since you were dragged to Hell, branded by Gabriel, and broke Satan’s contract with Solomon with your new power. Quite a lot had happened during that time; you were traveling around Hell, playing politician to all of the Kings, but most of all, you were getting laid. If sex was an ocean, you were drowning in it, mostly with Satan. What had started as a need for energy transfers to help you acclimate to Hell was now becoming a passtime.
It started only a few times a week, and you could feel it coming on. The shortness of breath, numbness in your extremities, it felt like you were suddenly having an onset of a scorching fever. You would only have seconds to fall into the arms of someone, pulling at the collar of your pants as though that would open your airways as you gasped for cock. In the beginning you had a circle of devils that you could rely on; Sitri, Amy (they spent more time fighting for the right to fuck you than actually fucking you), Paimon, Zagan, and Satan. However as the weeks passed away the circle became smaller and more elite, until Satan was all that was left.
He fucked you often, claiming to be able to sense that you were about to go faint even though you felt fine. You suspected that he was really just using it as an excuse to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out mid conversation. For being the King of Wrath, he sure did enjoy showing off how he had unlimited access to you. You didn’t mind it. Satan was undeniably attractive, and even if his technique was primal and outside of your comfort zone, he never failed to chase down and bring you to orgasm. So no, you didn’t mind all of the sex at all.
Until now.
Your period was late, something that had never happened to you. Satan found out because he noticed that you were avoiding him that day. Meanwhile you were tiptoeing around, feeling like you were only able to confide in Sitri about your concern. He had initially done a great job of informing you that such a feat was impossible. Until Ppyong overhead and had to reiterate everything that Sitri had told you at the top of his little, red, lumpy lungs. Which in turn created the domino effect of Satan going on the attack immediately.
“Technically, Demon’s cannot get each other pregnant, let alone a human, your Majesty,” Sitri was trying to say. He was following Satan who had once again thrown you over his shoulders. Instead of carting you to the nearest flat surface, he was carrying you out of Gehenna and to the nearest portal.
Which was how you were here, sitting on a hospital bed with a half empty bottle of water in one hand, petting Satan’s head with the other. You weren’t sure how nervous to be, you had never had a pregnancy scare before. Scared, probably, it was in the name after all.
The hospital he insisted that he take you to was in the garden of Lost Paradise, ruled by Lucifer Morningstar himself. You knew the old story well, about the devil who disguised himself as a serpent. Hoping for a chance to meet the celebrity, every time a shadow passed your room you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning out in hopes of catching a glimpse of the unholy celebrity. Like most things in Hell, being admitted into the hospital was surprisingly normal. From writing out your details on an intake form, to peeing in a cup for the pregnancy test, you welcomed the familiarity of the act. Though unlike human hospitals, they also requested to know your natal chart, and when you didn’t know that, your exact time and date of birth and the city you were born in. You had heard on a podcast somewhere that planets and signs can affect a person’s mood, but this was taking it a step in a strange direction.
Since you were in the company of a King of Hell, you didn’t have to wait long. Which you were grateful for because the longer you sat in silence, the more ideas about having a family began to fill Satan’s head. He was interrupted by an alarming knock at the door, and the devil wrapped his arms protectively around you and your flat belly as the doctor entered.
Hell had many surprises for you, but this one was the biggest of all as the… man? Human? Blinking and shaking your head, you squinted at the man who walked across the room, stepping into the swivel chair and shoving himself across the room toward you. All devils in Hell had horns, it puzzled you to see only a head of red hair protruding from all the bandages- ah. You had heard of this particular devil, he was something of a celebrity himself. The devil who healed by wearing his patient’s scars.
“Lord Majesty Satan, honored to have you here today,” Morax said brightly, looking up from the folder with your name on it to blink briefly at you before turning to acknowledge the King of Gehenna. “Pleasure to meet you, miss, and welcome to Lost Paradise. I regret having you here under these circumstances, it is quite a pleasant place to visit even when you aren’t ill.”
“Thanks,” you said slowly, staring down at his tapered fingers which were flipping through your charts. “I just wanna make sure that everything’s fine, ya know?”
“Of course, of course,” the kind devil smiled at you, or seem to, it was hard to tell what kind of face he was making underneath the bandages that covered him. Morax had a noteworthy mastery of his emotions. Sometimes they obfuscated his emotions completely, such as when he asked for the reason you were there. His eyebrows didn’t so much as knit at the idea that you might be pregnant. Except when Satan declared himself as your emergency contact (and even labeled himself as your partner) his eyes and the bandages furrowed with polite confusion. You could tell now that he was frowning as he stared at Satan, who was still busy admiring your stomach. “Some of these questions are sensitive, would you like for his Lord Majesty to wait outside until we’re done?”
“She can say anything in front of me,” Satan growled, hugging you protectively. Morax’s bandages shifted and you read the emotion well; concern. Why though? You expected the doctor to buckle under the King’s statement, instead he and his bandages shifted their posture, like they were all squaring up against him.
“I’m happy to hear that you think that, sir, but you aren’t the patient.”
Oh damn, you thought to yourself as Satan now glared up at you, looking for your response. No devil had ever given the devil of Wrath lip like that before. Morax was looking at you too, holding your chart close to him while waiting for your reply.
“It is entirely up to you if you want him in the room for this exam. We have a perfectly well equipped waiting room just around the corner.”
“H-he can stay,” you decided, and Satan smirked triumphantly at the doctor, who was not paying attention. Instead he was flipping through your paperwork, single eye moving erratically across the results.
“What is the approximate date of your last menstrual cycle?”
That was easy, it was exactly a week before… before…
Morax lifted his face from your folder when the words got caught in your throat. “A week before Minhyeok was… when Gabriel…”
Not saying a word, the devil kicked his rolling chair off from the bed, propelling himself across the room to grab a box of tissues.
“Sounds like you have had quite some trauma recently as well,” he offered along with the tissues for you. Ignoring Satan’s low growl when he leaned in close to leave the box beside you, Morax went back to your chart. “You’ve been sexually active during your time in Hell?”
“Yeah,” you said shakily, dabbing at your eyes and playing with the wet tissue in your hands. Suddenly you were wondering if it was too late to ask Satan to wait outside as Morax made a note.
“How many partners have you had?”
Now there was an awkward pause as you quietly counted on your fingers, mentally listing all of the devils from Gehenna, Tartaros, and Hades. Satan’s eyes flashed red as your fingers kept ticking. By the time you had racked up the grand total in your head, the devil’s fingers were digging into your thighs, leaving deep divots in your skin. Morax on the other hand didn’t flinch at your body count, only asked the follow up question, “all male?”
“Yeah.”
“Are all these questions really necessary?” Satan complained, trying to lean over and peek at Morax’s scribble.
His bandages shifted and contoured as the doctor frowned deeply at Satan, flipping the folder out of his line of sight. “Yes, we’ll also be testing you for sexually transmitted infections,” said the bandages to you now. “We’ll require a genital swab or a blood draw, lady’s choice.”
Nodding understandingly, you squeezed your legs instinctively together because it had been a while since you went to a clinic for a test like this. At least it sounded all like what you were used to, Satan’s face was red at the thought.
“What about the pregnancy test?” The King asked, watching as Morax closed the folder and reached for a stethoscope.
Once again you were impressed at how the subordinate devil was able to shoo Satan off of you like he was nothing more than a fly. Pushing the King of Wrath away with just a wave of his hand, he rested his elbow on the examination table.
“I’m still waiting to hear those results- deep breath please… Good, and again please, this’ll be cold on your back… very good, healthy lungs - but we devils are naturally infertile. Have you had intercourse with any mortal men in the last month?” Morax directed at you, looping the stethoscope around his shoulders as he pressed his bandaged fingers to your throat.
His touch was swift, but even after he had pulled away you could still feel the pads of his fingers pressing on your lymph nodes.
“N-not intercourse,” you mumbled, blushing deeply when Morax’s bandages raised at you. “I’ve been drinking uhm… A human’s essence to help with acclimating to Hell.”
“That won’t get you pregnant,” Morax assured you, patting the back of the table and urging you to lay down. “You’re going to feel a little bit of cold again.” Pulling up your shirt and quick as a cat before Satan could be outraged, Morax pressed the pad of the stethoscope to your belly. Running the cold metal along the hem of your naval, he didn’t ask you to breathe this time. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Just as Satan was about to grab Morax by the tails of his bandages, the devil was retreating, tossing the stethoscope aside. “We’ll wait for the test results to come back, let me go and see if those are ready now. I’ll be right back.”
Sighing with relief once Morax was gone, Satan went back to moping with his chin on your thigh. You sat on your hands this time, busy wondering if a nurse was going to come in for the other stuff. Satan was too occupied with mourning a child that would never exist when a different, wicked thought took root.
“W-what are you doing?” You hissed when his thumb began to ride along the seam of your pants, moving inward to stroke at your clothed mound. “We can’t fuck in a hospital.”
“Why not?” He asked devilishly, sitting up and kissing you to quiet your protests. Meanwhile his hand squirmed its way to unbutton your pants, his fingers about to rub your clit between them, when Morax knocked at the door again.
“Come in!” You called, jerking your whole body out of Satan’s grip as Morax reentered, head down and conveniently not looking at you. Instead he was focusing on a tray which had been lined up with the test kits, parking that on the other side of the bed. Glaring at the utensils, Satan frowned deeply and stood from his chair.
“I’ll be outside,” he grumbled, slamming the door with enough ferocity that a jar of cotton swabs threatened to fall from their shelf.
“Sorry,” you started to say, but Morax tutted and he and his bandages smiled at you. That easily undid the knot in your mind and allowed you to relax.
“Your situation is… unique, there’s no need to apologize for it. Though I am obligated to ask,” he paused, tilting his head towards the door as if listening for Satan. You found yourself doing the same, wondering if the King may be standing with his ear pressed hungrily to the door. “Are you currently experiencing any kind of abuse or violence?”
Oh yeah, you thought to yourself, realizing that human hospitals and clinics really were fashioned like the ones in Hell. It made you think though, because at first your response was going to be no, but now you were thinking about it. It wasn’t a straight and simple no, you realized. Satan’s voracious appetite to have you all to himself did bother you to an extent. Was that really enough for you to say yes?
“Your answer is confidential,” Morax spoke up when you didn’t immediately reply. He must have been mistaking your hesitation to answer for fear of retaliation. “We have resources that you may use, even as a mortal. He may be a King, but he is not free to mistreat you, even if you aren’t a citizen of Hell.”
“It’s not like that,” you began, but you were still thinking about it. It had been easy for you to write off Satan’s behavior of isolating you as sweet possessiveness because he was handsome. He was handsome and one way or another you always came on his dick. Your stomach began to turn as that simple question was undoing everything you thought about the King of Wrath. “I-I need to have sex with devils regularly because of my condition.”
“Yes, PDD,” Morax said easily, flicking open your file. “Planar Dissociative Disorder, when your body is unable to stay in one realm. We’ve only had one other case of this.” He gave you a look as he made another note. “There is a way for us to stabilize you to Hell without all of that… extra activity, if you’d like.”
“Wait, really?” You asked, shimming to sit on the edge of the bed as Morax nodded enthusiastically, the tails of his bandages were working out from under his coat. You wondered if he would come apart like a cartoon mummy if you tugged on them.
“Of course, transferring raw energy from one being to another is not a new practice. Devils need energy transfers for many things, and while sexual activity is potent and works, it’s not the only means.” He tilted his head now so that his unobstructed eye could look at you fully.
He didn’t ask the question, because the answer was written on your face as your epiphany made you light headed. Before you could faint from the dizzying realization that you had been tricked, a bandaged hand was guiding you to lay back on the bed. “Easy, take a deep breath. If you’re going to have an attack, do it. I promise you are in the safest place for it.”
Were you really mad about falling for it? Letting Satan fill up your head with the idea that the only way for you to survive in Hell was dick? That was your next question, and that answer was also apparent in your eyes as Morax sat patiently at your side. You felt uncomfortable, this new truth was forcing you to reexamine every sigh and every pair of eyes through a new lens.
“Do I have to answer that question?” You finally gulped, looking to Morax who had pressed the stethoscope to your wrist. It looked like he was keeping time of your heart, and when he looked up at you he didn’t move from his spot.
“If you want to continue using sex as the vehicle for the energy transfer-”
“No, not that question,” you flushed and pulled your hand out of his. The bandages scraped on your skin and begged you not to leave, but you put your hands in your lap anyway. “The question about abuse.”
Up above the clock on the wall was the only noise in the room; you were holding your breath, Morax’s eyes were closed as he was summoning up words of wisdom to serve. Each second that passed made the question feel heavier on your head. “You don’t need to answer, but for my own peace of mind as a healer, I would like one.”
His gaze followed yours as you stared at the office door one more time, still wondering where in this hospital Satan was.
“I wouldn’t call it domestic violence, but he’s been… uh, really needy.”
“Would you call his Lord Majesty your primary partner?” Morax asked, reaching out with a foot to pull the trolley of syringes and cotton swabs closer but not picking anything up.
“Yeah, I guess I would. Ever since I came back from Hades he has been nervous about letting me out of his sight. Or anyone touching me,” you added with a shiver, remembering the first time you two did it after you returned to Gehenna. He broke his desk pounding against you, eyes and face flushed red with passionate fury. Snarling desperate promises to not let you out of his sight again.
Nodding along, Morax drummed his fingers against the bed before putting a hand empathically on top of you. “I understand if you don’t want to answer, it can be hard to reject a King. Especially one as impulsive as he, but King or no, he is not entitled to you beyond what you are comfortable with. I have an open door policy for all of my patients, and I would do everything in my power to shield you from retribution.”
“Thank you, doctor,” you answered awkwardly, pulling yourself to sit up straight as a familiar urge took root in your belly. Calm down, you told yourself as Morax switched gears swiftly, reaching for the syringe.
“I presume you’d prefer a blood draw?” He’s being professional, don’t hit on him. Do not hit on him, do not-
“Is there a Mrs. Morax?” What the fuck, you asked yourself, pinching yourself when he turned his back to you for something off the trolley.
Chuckling lightly, the devil twisted the rubberband around your forearm, rubbing at your skin to find a vein. “No, this profession and appreciation of my patients is my love. How are you liking Hell?”
Grateful that he was a better conversationalist, you went back and forth with the small talk. The blood draw was the easy part, he was gentle and the needle breaking your skin felt a little bit like a kiss. After the way that Satan had bent you over a few nights before, a syringe’s prick was small comparatively.
You started to feel bad for your flawed flirting because despite all of it, Morax was kind. He made eye contact with you while you spoke, his kind expression reading your animated hands while you went on and on. Even his bandages seemed to hold you as you talked about traveling to Tartaros, your ability to break contracts, and the death of your best friend. Before you realized it, you had confided in him about everything that had happened to you and what you endured during your time in Hell. As well as some of the things you endured on Earth too. The craziest part about your visit? He listened. Didn’t try to demean or simplify your worries, only asking clarifying questions before going quiet again, he listened and understood. Which was its own kind of healing, you hadn’t been allowed to just talk about what you’ve been through, the things you left behind.
“Maybe going home for a day would be good for you,” Morax suggested as he assembled your pamphlets to take home. Quietly, you appreciated the insert he hid containing his contact information inside of a generic health brochure. Something Satan would never look at, so if you ever needed assistance, he was just a discreet text away. “Pluto will be entering retrograde in about a month’s time, which is also what’s making your condition so much more pronounced.”
“Oh wanting to know signs wasn’t a personal request?” You teased, and Morax shrugged defenselessly.
“You aren’t a doctor, you’ll never know the truth… Anyway, Pluto descending is a time of personal healing and closure. You are a Leo,” he declared, pausing at a small desk alcove that looked like it might be his. A group photo of other devils lined up shoulder to shoulder in military uniform was above the computer screen. Pulling out a sheet of paper, Morax stuffed it into your take home folder.
“Pluto in retrograde for you will be defining, damning even. You’ll enter the final phase of a transformative experience, and also have the chance to be the hero of your story… or the victim. This will be decided by your own actions, as well as the ones of those you trust.” He avoided giving you a pointed look, instead wrapping his hands behind his back and escorting you to the waiting room.
“You got all that just from knowing my sign?” You asked, once again feeling a little light headed and dizzy from realizing just how close to home his observations were.
“Medicine is more than just anatomy, chemical reactions, and alchemy. Sometimes the stars push us to be destructive, and knowing the star’s plans can be life changing ammunition.” Coming to a stop just outside the double doors, Morax looked at you again. “All in all, you are healthy and not pregnant. You will be forced to look at a few aspects of your life, and tie up loose ends. The following month is about closure and healing, allow yourself to do both. We’ll be following up with you on your test results for the STIs in about a week. If you don’t hear from us, assume it's good news. Should you need anything, anything,” he stressed and tilted his red hair toward the door. “Call me.”
Stepping out into the lush waiting room, Satan jumped to his feet at the sight of you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you to stand away from Morax. “How is she? What was the result of the test?”
“Negative,” Morax replied, and you could have sworn that, even for just a second, there was a glint of delight in his face at Satan’s open disappointment. “Her body is just going through transformative measures because of the energy transfers. Expect your cycle to be spotty from now on, as long as you have PDD. You will need to have these transfers while you remain in Hell, so as discussed we can look at alternatives.”
“Will going back to Earth help with that?” You dared to ask, aware that Satan’s grip on you tightened defensively.
“I doubt it, it might only reset and make the condition worse… but it might help with all of the other things you mentioned.” The doctor concluded with a short bow, not looking at Satan as he started to pull you toward the door.
“Thank you again for everything,” you called over your shoulder as the King hauled you out of the hospital and into the Garden’s gradient light. "That wasn't so bad," you added to Satan as you walked arm in elbow to the portal back to Gehenna. "He was nice."
"I guess," Satan gritted his teeth in reply, eyes ahead and focused on the task at hand. Which was finding a place to flip you over and pretend to impregnate you all over again. "Let's never do that again."
"Yeah, definitely," you lied, casting your gaze backward as the portal swallowed you home. Part of you hoped you had every disease in the book, just for a chance to see Morax again.
Sorry I’m back again but avisos as mystery incorporated (Scooby squad) beel as Fred, Amon as daph, bael as shagy, nabe as scooby and stolas as Velma (or whatever order you want) or beel as scooby and bael as shaggy
(I’m so sorry that this is so specific but take you pick 😭)
this is so funny and specific LMAO they would 100% make every mystery worse
Why’d they have to do Satan so dirty like that? It’s not okay. There are ways to have these types of stories without basically nonconning one of the main love interests of the game. It’s not even done by the antagonists! It’s gleefully done by the protagonist, the main character, the supposed good guy! Like why?? We waited all this time for this??????
Inspired by @marinaescamaazul's cat cafe AU. Originally was gonna be fanart especially since their cat Satan's design is very cute, but I couldn't resist designing some cats. Cats are fun to draw.
Currently have Eligos', Bimet's, Glasyagagssgdgff, Barbatos', Amon's, and Bael's breeds picked out but my lazy self makes no promises when I already have a personal art project I'm procrastinating rn.
