A/n : This chapter is a review, I will continue it if it does well. This concept of Fallen! Reader's characteristics are based on my favourite character in CRK, Shadow Milk Cookie .
Reader is Gender Neutral
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The moment Sentinel brings down his sword into Alpha Trion chasis, he unknowingly releases an entity from its imprisonment that is far much greater than the Quintesson.
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Orion Pax, or now known as Optimus Prime is fighting against his former friend D-16 who is now known as Megatron. The High Guards, Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave enter the fight in order to bring the new prime down to his knees.
It was 4 against 1, it was unfair but this doesn't falter Optimus and he is able to fight back against them without breaking a sweat.
Then, all of a sudden. There is a tremor and a rumbling sound echoes throughout Cybertron causing everyone to panic. Optimus tosses Soundwave to the side, in the corner of his optics he sees a crack forming— in the air...
This sudden change in the air causes everyone to stop.
B-127 look at the sight, "Oh, the sky breaking" the yellow bot pauses before coming into realization and hold his helm. "The sky is breaking?!" he screech.
"What is this? Are my eyes toying with me~?" a voice echoes through the gaps of the crack. The voice gasps, "I don't believe it! The chains that have bound me for millions of years—" it said with a mischievous tone.
The crack becomes larger and a large figure pops their head out.
"—are now....... GONE!" they grin widely. "Hahahahahaha! How wonderful!" they cackled.
Optimus eyes widen at the sight of the newcomer, the matrix of leadership within his chassis begins to pulse as if to warn him about the danger. Megatron rises up from his pedes and looks up at the strange figure.
"Awh, how I miss the smell of fresh air! It feels so DIVINE!" they grin. "Oh? What do we have here?" their (e/c) optics looks down on the small cybertronians before them. "Oh no! It seems I got myself a really large audience!" they said, "Oh I am so so very sorry to keep all of you waiting~!"
"BUT—worry not my little cybers! The wait is OVER! Your favourite one of the fourteen is here!"
.
.
.
"(Y/N) PRIME!" they introduced themselves.
.
.
.
.
"Who?" B-127 question, tilting his head to the side. A dramatic gasp escape from them. "You don't know who I am? Ouch! right in the spark—!" they said, putting a servo over their spark.
"A Prime...?" Optimus is confused. He never heard about another prime other than the Thirteen, he had gone through every archive but none of it ever speaks about them.
"Hey, um. Not to be rude, but we never heard of you before. I thought there supposed to be Thirteen?"
"Thirteen? THIRTEEN?!" (Y/n) said, with anger and disappointment lace in their voice. "Oh, I see. It seems my fellow primes didn't tell you about MY existence!" they said. "How rude of them! To wipe someone so dazzling 💅✨ and so amazing like ME from face of history 😡!" they pouts.
Then, their eyes fall on Optimus. They pause, "Look what we have here? It seems that the Matrix of Leadership has chosen its next victim!" they said, eyes glaring down at the matrix within Optimus chassis. Optimus felt slightly uncomfortable from their gaze, a gaze that fills with hatred and—
What do they mean by victim?
"Who are you?" Megatron hiss, the bot didn't like what he was witnessing. First it was Sentinel, then Orion and now THEM? Just how many primes does he have to deal with in a single day?
"Who? Me?" (Y/n) perks up at Megatron's question. "Allow me to re-introduce myself! I am one of the Fourteen, (Y/n) Prime—well, was a Prime to be precise—" they said.
"—but~ if you want to know more about me why don't you ask Alpha Trion?" they said, "Oh, Alphy! Where are you~? Why don't you come out here and greet your ol' friend? It is quite rude ya know~!" they said. "I am sure that you are D(ie)YING to meet me!" they grin, before snorting and close their mouth. "Oh, wait! You can't! Cuz you're DEAD!" they exclaimed.
" Well, that's a bummer!" they said, giggling at the death of their 'friend'. "I am SO disappointed! I was about to have so much FUN with you!".
"I always knew that this day would happen! Watching all of them went offline ONE by ONE in such a MISERABLE way as possible— not to mention! In the hands of a prime wannabe— that's already dead right over there! HE HEHE HAHAHAHA!" they cackled.
Elita-1 grit her dentas together, narrowing her optics at the maniac right in front of her. How dare they make fun of the primes!
"Why you—" before Elita-1 could engage, Optimus stops her. "Elita... don't, we don't know what they are capable of" Optimus warns her. "But, they—" she protests but stops when she sees the pleading eyes of Optimus. She takes a step back and looks away.
"Alright, enough with the chit chat! Let the REAL fun begins!" (Y/n) exclaims.
Does anyone know any good fics for Adam with a Fallen!Reader?
Preferably where she fell a long time ago, maybe along with Lucifer, but I'm not picky. I'm just obsessed with the idea that Adam takes interest in someone who rebelled against Heaven.
It'd be even cooler if it's an AU where he comes back as a sinner after the ending of season 1.
The ring light glowed bright, bathing your face in a soft artificial radiance that smoothed out every imperfection.
You weren’t taking any chances.
Leaning in toward your webcam, you tilt your head slightly as you examined your reflection in the streaming preview window. With precise and practiced movements, you adjusted a stray strand of hair, ensuring it fell perfectly into place.
Your skin had to be flawless—if only for this final performance.
It was almost funny, how even now, as you prepared to confess every last unforgivable sin, you still cared about how you looked.
The viewer count climbed.
At first only a few hundred trickled in. Then thousands. Then tens of thousands.
10K...40K...70K...100K...
The comment section was already a chaotic mess of scrolling text. The usual flood of usernames, some familiar, some new, all merging into a blur of reactions.
[SourCandyBites]: U MONSTER
[AztecStar]: OMG omg ily pls say hi to mexico 🇲🇽🇲🇽!!!
[lonondel_90]: WTF is this whats even happening rn??
[ChillPillPlease]: YALL SHE JUST TROLLING CHILL.
[MirrorVain]: WHY aint nobody talking about how GOOD she look??
You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head in amusement as you finally flash your signature smile—bright, plastic, and perfected after years of camera training.
"Hey y’all! You already know what it is—" You paused for dramatic effect, watching the comments spike as your voice. "I know I know. This is a little weird right? Seeing me on Twitch instead of TikTok? But hey, gotta keep things fresh!"
Another flood of comments. Another spike in viewers.
120K...145K...190K...210K...
You could practically feel the world tilting toward you, drawn in like moths to a flame. The chat moved at breakneck speed, usernames flying by too fast to read. Still you caught glimpses:
[user876543]: Omg it’s really you!! 😭💖
[s1nisterViper]: NAH WTF R U DOIN HERE💀
[lilpeepfan99]: Say hi to Brazil!! 🇧🇷
[exposedtea]: MONSTER. YOU DESERVE TO ROT.
[simp4real___]: IDGAF WHAT THEY SAY I LOVE YOUUUU 😍😍😍
[SOKOLOV_feds]: 🧐👀
Your smile never faltered. Hate, adoration, indifference—it was all the same to you. Attention.
And right now you had it in abundance.
"So! Today we’re doing a special edition of Get Ready With Me—this one coming with a little bit of TEA!" You reached toward your makeup bag and dragged it into frame. The zipper unzipped smoothly, revealing an array of pristine cosmetics neatly arranged.
Foundation, concealer, brushes, powders—every tool of the trade, ready to transform you into the best version of yourself.
You picked up a tube of primer and squeezed a small amount onto your fingertips. As you rubbed it into your skin with slow methodical circles, you continued, voice light, almost casual. "Mmm oh yeah. You may be asking what are we getting ready for? Well you'll just have to wait and see."
A playful wink, the same one you’d done a thousand times before. It sent wave of anticipation rippling through the chat.
[hotdogwater24]: BRO WHAT IS GOING ON 💀💀💀
[kookiebxtch]: This feels...off.😅
[Skyline_Chaos]: WTF IS HAPPENING RN
[MurmurQueen]: this is so creepy stop😭😭
[AussieAmazed]:can u say hi to australia???
[NoFilterNell]: NAH THIS SOME REAL SHIT
[MidnightMuse]: get ready for what???👀
"Now I wanna be real with you guys. I really, truly do." You reached for a cleansing pad, running it over your skin evenly. "So I’ve decided to confess. Right here. Right now."
There was a different energy behind your voice tonight—something simmering just beneath the surface.
"First step, obviously is to start with a clean base. Gotta get rid of all the built-up dirt, oil, and, well..."—you let out a short laugh—"...bullshit."
[tea_with_tasha]: THE SHADE LMAOO
[cancelmebby]: Tf is this real life????
[JustCuriousNow]: confessing what kinda lost here
[SugawithdatTae]: yall know who she talm bout?👀
[softie4u]: GO TO HELL YOU BITCH
[Yunnie0678]: YOU KNOW WHAT TF U DID LAST YEAR
You moved onto foundation, pumping a precise amount onto a beauty sponge before dabbing it onto your cheeks and blending outward. With every soft pat against your skin the words left your mouth effortlessly.
"So let’s get into it: I was a regular person once. Just some nobody who blew up on TikTok overnight. And with fame...comes power. And with power? Ohhh, chat...the things I did I tell ya! And I got away with it too?? But no more secrets. No more running."
The next hour unfolded like a twisted diary entry.
You painted your face while painting a picture of your sins; every crime, every manipulation, every disgusting, unthinkable act you had committed with full knowledge that your wealth and influence would keep you safe.
Fraud...
Blackmail...
Backroom deals...
Murder....
Assualt...
Hush money...
From the people who had helped you to the people you had destroyed. You told them everything.
You named names; politicians, CEOs, celebrities, fellow influencers. Hell even Royal families! Anyone who had been untouchable...until now.
You had burned every bridge and exposed every secret.
The chat became an unreadable flood of reactions.
[OhMyGaaaawd]: omggggggg i cannot with this
[xani]: MY SHAYLA WHY?!😭😭 WE WERE ROOTING FOR YOU WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU
[DenialZone]: I KNEW YALL MFS WAS EVIL
[fbi.gov]: 🚨🚨🚨
[WhySoSerene]: NAH U DESERVE DEATH FR💯💯
[whistleblower88]: you lying no way u did that😱
[Karma]: mf calm as if she didnt just expose all elites BRUH
[Atieh and Jacky's Therapy Sessions_stan]: IM STILL WITH YOU BABY 😍😍😍
By the time you reached the final steps of your routine, your face was fully made up—foundation, concealer, contour, a touch of highlighter. Perfection.
You checked the viewer count.
10.7 MILLION.
You chuckled under your breath, a smug little thing as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. "Oh this is definitely going down in history."
Then—
BANG BANG BANG
You froze at the sound. It echoed through the house, shaking the walls, reverberating through your bones. Your brows lifted slightly but your expression remained eerily calm.
[whoopsieD]: UHHH THAT DIDNT SOUND GOOD
[itzjustameme]: LMFAOOOOO THEY COMIN FOR UUUU
[nottherussianmafia]: 🤨
[WTF_Lunar]: WTF WAS THAT
[OfficerPlease]: those cops or security??
[UrDeepn8p]: THIS IS SOME MOVIE TYPE SHIT FR😭😭
[nameizzuzJeSOOS]: is this real or staged idk
The camera caught every detail—the way your lips curled into something almost amused, the slow way you turned your head toward the microphone.
"Oopsie." You giggled. "Guess I made some of y’all’s faves a little upset. Think they’re out for blood?"
The pounding grew louder.
With one last spritz of setting spray, you wave your face dry, ensuring everything stayed flawless. "No worries. I’m already one step ahead~" Reaching down under the desk, your fingers curl around cold metal. With a practiced motion you lifted it into the frame.
[PistolPapi]: HOLY SHIT is that a GUN
[youshouldrot]: yo YO yo wtf wtf wtf
[Stan___4evr]: mommy? sorry. mommy?
[FBI_watchlist69]: bro put the gun DOWN
[YoYoYeller]: kill yourself already, u deserve it
[rideordie_real___]: NOOOOO PLEASE STOP 😭😭😭
[not_a_cop]: 👀👀👀
Your head tilted as the shotgun balanced effortlessly in your grip. You popped it open with a satisfying snap, revealing two gleaming buckshot shells and close it once more.
You turned to the camera, smiling like a Barbie commercial. "And for those who have caught on—why yes I am depressed, mentally unstable, and quite frankly, ready to leave this dipshit of an earth."
[sweetrevenge23]: NO FUCKING WAY
[h_scanner]: 🚔🚔🚔🚔
[deathwish69]: YO WAIT HOLD ON
[pleasedontdoit]: 😭😭😭😭😭😭
[hellawaits04]: LMAOOOOO ICONIC
[kenslaysUp]: no way this is happening rn
[moneymoves3000]: THIS SOME BLACK MIRROR SHIT
You let out a small breathy laugh. "Alright but seriously." Adjusting your hold on the shotgun, you shift it into one hand as you pressed the other against your chest. "I wanna say I’m sorry. To everyone I’ve hurt, to everyone I’ve lied to. To my fans, my friends..."
Your voice dipped into something softer. Something real.
"To everyone I’ve wronged I’m sorry. To all my haters and naysayers—congrats you were right. Not that it matters. Nothing I say will atone for my sins and for what I’ve done. But maybe...maybe my death will be enough?"
A beat of silence.
A second of silence. Then—
CRASH
The unmistakable splintering of wood followed by the thud of footsteps flooded into the lower level of your house. They got in.
The chat exploded in panicked messages.
[fuckauthority]: DID Y’ALL HEAR THAT???
[paranoidxoxo]: THEY’RE IN THE HOUSE😱😱
[daddyissues420]: OH MY GOD
[govwatcher]: LAW ENFORCEMENT INCOMING
[jesuschristirl]: REPENT NEOW🙏🏾🙏🏾
[bigbootybitch33]: GIRL RUN WTF
[gov_watchlist98]: YOU’RE FUCKED LOL
[hotgoss411]: WE ARE WITNESSING HISTORY RN
The comments was moving so fast now that it was unreadable.
You turned back to the camera, shotgun resting against your shoulder and beamed. "Oh and before I forget—" You gestured toward your laptop with your free hand. "This current live-stream is embedded with a virus that sends every single piece of evidence—every file, every video, every receipt—to every single person connected to my livestream. Surprise!"
[cybercrimes_unit]: ☠️☠️☠️
[We0ll see8]: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
[moral_justice]: LIVING LEGEND.
[snapeb00tysit]: DO IT PUSSY
[DudeNoChill]: bro wtf stop playin
[Punk0Lu2k]: DOES IT CONTAIN YOUR NOODS TOO??👀👀
[Brokie8ren]: AYE SEND ME SUM MONEY BEFORE YHOU KILL YOSELF, MY CASHAPP $STARRYNUTT
"So even if they do stop me..." You let the words linger, a satisfied smile curling at your lips. "Still checkmate. "
Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs.
You could hear them charging down the hall. Seconds away.
You shifted the shotgun, maneuvering it with precision in a way its angled perfectly against your head as your finger curled over the trigger. At the same time, your other hand hovered over the ENTER key on your laptop.
"All I gotta do is press this button and—"
Your bedroom door burst open.
The camera didn’t capture who entered. But you saw them.
A dull aching pain throbbed in your skull, deep and unrelenting, as if something had cracked open inside you.
Your body felt...off.
Too light and too heavy all at once, like your limbs weren’t quite yours anymore. A sluggish warmth clung to your skin thick and oppressive making it hard to breathe.
Your senses finally adjusted.
The first thing you noticed was the smell; burnt ash. Sulfur. Smoke curling in the air like invisible fingers.
Then came the sound; distant screams, eerie laughter, overlapping whispers that didn’t belong to any one person but still slithered into your ears like they were meant for you.
Your eyelids fluttered open.
And what you saw?
Red.
Clouds churned in dark ominous shades as a massive pentagram symbol loomed high above—it glowed sinisterly, slicing through the swirling clouds in sharp precise lines.
A moon hung beside it—a twisted scarred orb that looked as though it had been dragged from the depths of something far darker than night. And even higher in the distance, just barely visible against the red skyline, was the faint shimmer of white...possibly a star?
Jagged structures around you—half skyscrapers, half nightmares—loomed in impossible angles, their neon lights flickering in glitchy uneven patterns. The ground beneath you was scorched, still smoldering from whatever eternal fire had tried and failed to burn it all away.
You swallowed hard.
Something in the back of your mind whispered what you already knew.
This wasn’t a nightmare.
You were dead.
And this was Hell.
For a long frozen moment you simply sat there, staring at the pavement beneath you. Your breath came shallow and uneven. Your pulse—if you even had one anymore—drummed against your ribs.
Then your fingers twitched.
Something was in your pocket. Something smooth and solid...something familiar.
You slowly reached down and pulled it out:
Your phone.
A relieved breath escaped your lips. "Oh thank goodness."
The cool glass felt real in your hands, grounding you in a way nothing else could. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe you could figure this out. Maybe you could find a way to call someone—
You glanced at the screen only to freeze.
No Service.
The relief shattered into ice-cold panic.
Your grip tightened, thumb swiping down to refresh—no bars. No Wi-Fi. No lifeline.
You tried again. And again. And again. And again. And again and again and again and again and again and again and—
Nothing.
Your stomach lurched. Your hands shook.
Something inside you snapped.
You sat on your knees, clutching the useless phone to your chest as you let out a wail. "NO! NO! NO PLEASE GOD! I'M SORRY!"
The words tore from your throat raw and broken. You gasped between sobs, squeezing your eyes shut as your nails dig into your palms.
"DON'T DO THIS TO ME! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO MEEEEE—"
A soft chime.
Your eyes snapped open, breath catching in your throat. Sniffling, you pull it down to see the glowing screen. Your apps were still there.
Then, with a cautious swipe, you opened your gallery only for your heart to nearly stop.
All your pictures? Gone. Every selfie, every meme, every thirst trap, every aesthetically-pleasing shot of overpriced outfits? Erased.
And in their place?
Pictures. Screenshots. Videos.
All of them evidence of every fucked-up thing you’d ever done. Torture. Blackmail. Setups. Your biggest and most heinous crimes, all caught in 4K with timestamps, captions, and receipts.
You scrolled through them casually like flipping through an old yearbook.
"Oh damn almost forgot about that one. Good times." you muttered, rewatching one of your personal favorites—a high-definition well-lit compilation of your greatest hits.
God it was better than TV.
Speaking of—
A chill crawled up your spine.
The temperature around you shifted as a strange charged energy pressed down on your skin. The lights flickered wildly for a moment, glitching, before steadying.
You slowly stand to your feet as a towering figure suddenly appears a few feet away.
He was sharp, all jagged edges and neon accents, his black and red suit crisp and immaculate. But what stood out the most was his head—
An old-fashioned television screen.
The glass surface flickered erratically between distorted sharp-toothed grins and warped images of you from moments ago, as if he had already been watching you. Recording you.
Behind him stood several other demons. All tall, hulking, waiting for orders.
"Well well well...what do we have here?" His voice came layered—not just one tone, but multiple. Overlapping slightly like an old commercial playing on repeat.
"Huh." You tilted your head. "Who the hell are you?"
The screen on his face glitched violently. His grin remained but the static in his voice sharpened.
"You must be newcomer. How quaint." He took a step forward, his goons following suit. "Allow me introduce myself—"
With a flourish, he spread his arms, crackling energy surging through his body like a failing broadcast tower.
"I am VOX, Overlord of the Digital Age. Master of television, entertainment, and media. Everything broadcasted, everything recorded—"he gestured widely to the neon-lit cityscape behind him, "it all bends to me. And you, sweetheart, are standing in my domain."
"Uh-huh. Cool. Anyway—" you slid your phone into your pocket, "I was kind of busy. You need something Static Boy?"
A nearby streetlight exploded in a burst of pixels and sparks.
"Do you even comprehend where you are?" His voice was calm, but beneath it was a deep growing irritation.
"Yeah yeah. Hell. Domain. Big scary Overlord." You waved your hand dismissively. "Honestly I couldn't give two shits right now."
The second those words left your mouth something shifted.
Vox’s face flickered as air around him spiked like an overcharged circuit.
You didn’t know this guy but you sure as hell knew that reaction. He hated that.
And suddenly you were interested. You leaned back slightly, crossing your arms, smirking up at him. "You must be one of those old-heads? Damn. You must hate people like me then."
Vox’s screen flickered again, his glow flaring slightly. "People like you?"
You grinned.
"Influencers."
There it was. That flash of disgust.
"Yup. TikTok mostly. Millions of followers. You know the usual." You grinned. "Guess we’re in the same industry huh?"
Vox’s screen glitched violently. "Your meddlesome kind have stolen relevance from true entertainment. It is no shock your type always finds its way down here with all the pollution you do. How dare you to even think you could be on my level?!"
You folded your arms. "Oh no. The evil TV man thinks I’m annoying. However will I recover?"
"You have no power here," he hissed. "I control what is seen. I control what is heard. I control what is remembered. Any pathetic influencers that land in my Hell?" He chuckles darkly. "I make sure they’re erased permanently. No fame. No following. Just nothing."
At that you finally laughed; a short and mocking, entirely unimpressed laugh.
"Oh. I get it now." You grinned. "You’re just pissed because TV isn’t relevant anymore. You’re an old man who's generation ruined everything for mines, and now you’re mad that social media overshadow you?"
The air around him screamed for half a second before steadying. His grin stayed but it was tighter now. "You’re bold."
You shrugged. "And you’re outdated."
Vox’s face flashed red.
A beat of silence...
Then chaos.
Vox’s goons lunged, their movements sharp and inhuman as they closed in on you. They were faster than anything you’d encountered.
You barely had time to react as their glinting claws shown from the glow of the city around you. Instinct screamed at you to dodge, but before you could even flinch—
The ground split open.
From the pavement beneath your feet a mass of glowing technicolor tendrils erupted—flickering and glitching like a broken screen.
They shot forward, lashing through the air with impossible speed, grabbing one of the demons mid-leap.
A choked gasp.
A wet, sickening rip.
The goon split apart; torn in half like he was made of paper, limbs flung to the ground in uneven pieces. Blood—dark and thick—splattered onto the pavement, sizzling against the heat.
Silence.
Your breath hitched as a sudden spike of ice-cold shock crawled up your spine.
'What the fuck was that?!'
You hadn’t moved. You hadn’t done anything. Yet the thing—those tendrils had responded...to you. Your hands trembled for half a second when it clicked causing your lips to curl into a smirk. Yes, it's true you hadn’t done that on purpose.
But you sure as hell weren’t about to admit that.
Flicking imaginary dust from your sleeve, you sighed dramatically. "Whoops. Looks like I do have power here after all. Tsk. And here I was hoping we could be civil."
One of the goons glanced at the still-twitching remains of his comrade. His claws flexed as uncertainty began to bleed into his soulless eyes.
Good.
You wanted them nervous.
Across from you Vox had stiffened.
You noticed the way his form falter, the faintest distortion in his glow—the first sign of something resembling hesitation.
That made you grin.
"What’s wrong old man?" you purred, stepping forward, your tendrils pulsing with a sickly glow around you. "Didn’t think I’d put up a fight?"
A sharp burst of static cut through the air, the pixels on Vox's screen distorting wildly before stabilizing. His red eyes burned brighter as he snarled.
"Kill that bitch!"
The remaining goons paused for half a second—then rushed you.
This time you didn’t wait. Something in your blood snapped and the tendrils moved. Like snakes they twisted through the air eeriely. They tore through flesh like it was nothing.
One of the demons barely had time to scream before he was skewered, his body hoisted into the air, his limbs thrashing wildly as the tendrils twisted and ripped him apart.
Blood splattered across your face.
The others didn’t even have time to run.
A tendril shot forward and wrapped around a demon’s neck—tightening, lifting them effortlessly off the ground before snapping. Another shot forward like a bullet, piercing straight through a demon’s chest leaving a gaping hole left in their torso as they collapsed lifeless.
Faster...
Every move was precise.
Faster....
Clean. Efficient.
Faster....
It was like you had done this before. Like this was natural. In mere minutes it was over.
You let out a low whistle. "Huh. That was easier than I thought."
The bodies dropped, the blood pooled. And only one remained:
Vox.
Your tendrils slithered forward, curling around his limbs, binding him in place.
But they didn’t attack.
They simply held him. Firm. Unmoving. A silent display of dominance.
Vox was still. His claws twitched but he didn’t move.
You smirked, stepping closer. "Aww," you cooed with mock-sympathy dripping from every syllable. "What’s the matter VCR? Cat got your tongue? I thought you ran this place."
A snarl ripped from his throat, his neon glow flaring with a sharp burst of static. "It’s Vox you insufferable brat!" he snapped, his already layered voice distortion from anger.
You tilted your head slightly with twinkling eyes. "Uh-huh. Sure, Video Cassette Recorder."
His claws flexed. The tension in his body was visible, his expression twisting into something sharp and furious.
And you?
You ate it up.
Your smirk stretched into something sharper. A tendril slithered up, curling delicately around his top hat. And with a quick flick—
You plucked it off his head.
Vox’s static screeched.
You twirled the hat between your fingers, adjusting it neatly on your own head before opening your arms wide with a dramatic flourish.
"I think I like this look," you mused, lips curling. "Very showman."
A pause.
"Or in my case—" You tipped the hat slightly. "Showwoman."
Vox’s glare was murderous.
Never had he been humiliated by the likes of someone like you before. Oh how he wanted to kill you.
And even worse?
Sinners had started gathering; from the alleys, buildings, and shadows—bystanders who had been watching it all in silence.
Some were even pulling out their phones to record the spectacle.
You beamed and struck a pose. "Go ahead and tag me! @Real___! Let’s make this go viral yeah?"
The crowd—because oh yeah, there was totally a crowd now—erupted in whispers.
You beamed.
Vox seethed.
"Just you wait," he growled through gritted teeth. "When I get my hands on you—"
Your brow raised. Your tendrils tightened ever so slightly. He lets out a glitching choke and immediately shuts up.
"Better," you coo. With exaggerated movements you began to sit down. Your tendrils shift beneath you, morphing into a throne-like seat, curling comfortably around your form.
"Now," Crossing one leg over the other with a pleasant smile, your elbows rest against the armrests as you leaned in slightly, voice mockingly sweet. "Be a dear and tell me everything I need to know about Hell."
If you have any more Good Omens request please send them in!!
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The Fall
The Fall was violent. Crowley liked to joke that he ‘sauntered vaguely downward’ but he was tossed from heaven straight into the burning sulfur pits just like everyone else. The fire burned your feathers black and the wind tore at your skin, leaving scars that even miracles couldn’t heal. But you weren’t the worst off, some of the others had permanent boils on their skin, or missing limbs, even worse most of the ones who fell had their wings completely burned off.
“R-Raphael! Raphael! Where are you?!”
Bright red hair slowly came into view, “Here! Y/N, ‘m here!”
You quickly drag yourself closer to the other Archangel, “You’re alright, I couldn’t find you at first – I thought …”
Raphael flicked his, now golden-silted, eyes up at you. “I’ll be okay, Y/N, just a bit of a sulfur bath, nothing you didn’t go through too. And I don’t – I don’t think I want to go by Raphael anymore, now that we’ve been kicked out.”
“Okay, that’s fine. Whenever you decide on a name, just let me know. For now, I’ve been told to ‘go up and make some trouble’ care to join me?”
“Anything to get out of here”
--
The Garden
Crawly, as Raphael now wanted to be called, could turn into a snake. A very convenient corporation to sneak around Eden with. You can turn into a sleek black cat, which is lovely for climbing trees and stalking the smaller animals the She made.
“Well, that went down like a lead balloon”
You take shape on the other side of the angel, “Quite, I really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, but then with the Almighty’s reaction to a couple questions I really shouldn’t be surprised”
Crawly looks over at the empty-handed angel, “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”
“What?”
“You did! It was flaming like anything! What happened to it?”
The angel glances over to you, but you just raise on eyebrow in question, “I gave it away!” Crawly gives an incredulous look, “I gave it away! It’s dangerous out there, and she’s already expecting!”
Crawly and the strange angel continue talking and you watch as the humans fight off a lion. When you Fell, you and Crawly had vowed to stay together, and now you had a feeling that this angel would be regular presence in your life.
--
1347 - Italy
“Aziraphale, how lovely to see you again” You quickly glide by the angel, black robe fluttering.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Aziraphale quickly trotted behind you, trying to keep his tights and tunic clean on the filthy streets. “Is this whole Plague nonsense your lots doing? And where’s Crowley? The two of you are usually inseparable”
“Crowley is probably doing the same thing I am trying to do, Aziraphale, which would be stopping people from dying as Heaven deemed it necessary”
“I’m sure I would have been told if Heaven was responsible for this! And besides, how are you explaining to Hell that you’re saving humans?”
You step into one of the many houses with a string of posy on the door, “Well, we tell them that we’re working against that Ineffable Plan, saving humans so we have more time to tempt them into giving up their souls to Hell. It’s quite simple really”
Aziraphale watches as you quietly heal the boils on two of the children’s faces, as you turn rotted skin whole again, and as you quietly purify the air, getting rid of all trace of disease.
The two of you step back out to the street, “You really do heal them”
“Of course I do, and the ones that are too far gone to save I ensure have a peaceful passing. Crowley and I … we try to make this time as easy as possible for the ones we can save.”
“But why? You are a demon! Healing … that seems more like my sides job”
If Aziraphale’s asking this, then he doesn’t know who Crowley was before his fall, and he hasn’t connected your name. “Human’s don’t deserve everything they’ve been handed, their lives are so short and neither of us like to see people suffer, especially children.”
--
1862 – London
Aziraphale stares down at the note that Crowley handed him, “Holy water!? I’m not – I’m not going to give you a suicide pill!”
“Neither of us want to find out what happens if Hell finds out about you, Aziraphale”
The angel glares at the two demons, “Well, Heaven wouldn’t be too happy if I was caught fraternizing with some of your lot”
“Fraternizing!”
“Well, whatever you want to call it!”
Crowley’s face twisted up in a sneer, “I have plenty of people to fraternize with, angel!”
You reach out and gently place a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, “We’ll think of something else, Crowley. If they find us out … we’ll have to deal with it”
Aziraphale throws the paper in the river, and storms off, while you and Crowley turn towards the other direction.
--
1967 – SoHo London
Aziraphale doesn’t say anything when he first approaches you, just stands back and watches Crowley with his group of thieves. You … have not been very kind to the angel since his comment about fraternizing in 1862.
“I don’t believe I ever apologized for what I said to you, about fraternizing. I didn’t truly mean it. The thought of you or Crowley going to that sort of extreme … is quite terrifying to me, in all honesty.”
You let out a sigh, “I know, I was angry because I consider you a very dear friend and you hurt both myself and Crowley with your comment. You realize that the holy water would be a last resort, don’t you? We didn’t make the request lightly, nor would we take our own demise lightly”
The angel let out a heavy breath, “I know, that’s why I’m giving you this”
Aziraphale hands you a tartan flask that you assume is filled with holy water, “I’m really not sure if I should thank you for this, angel, but I will anyway. So, thank you”
It’s about that time Crowley finishes talking to the humans and decides to join you and Aziraphale, “Well hello, angel. Wasn’t expecting to see you here”
“Just dropping a little something off”
Crowley smirks and raises an eyebrow, but you subtly shake your head, “Well, at least let me offer you a ride. Anywhere you want to go”
The angel lets out a soft sigh, “You go too fast for me, Crowley”
--
11 years before the End of the World
“The bloody Antichrist! Why would we be chosen to deliver the bloody Antichrist?! You know I’m quite fond of Earth, I’d rather not be the catalyst that helps start the apocalypse!”
Crowley groaned softly, “I know! But we’re ‘well liked’ down there. Apparently, Lucifer still thinks we’re good enough to trust with his son”
You peek into the basket containing the Antichrist, “We need to tell Aziraphale, we need to figure something out”
“We will, Y/N, but we have to deliver the baby. We don’t have much of a choice in that”
“Unfortunately not. Drive on, then. We have a nunnery to get to”
———————————————————————————–
Let me know what you think! Send any ideas or requests you have to my Ask Box!
a/n: a small little in-between for the tortoise jelly/fallen human work i wrote a little while ago. i was going to just make it a few chapters, but a small in-between sort of thing felt a little bit better to me overall to better develop their relationship and interactions with one another.
you can find the first part here!
[ sea·son : first winter]
↳ act 1
No matter how my Tortoise Jelly reached out to you, he couldn’t feel your heart beating alongside his. He didn’t feel that faint buzzing, tingling warmth that he had felt with his Master Attendant. All he could feel was the ever growing cold dark hole in his heart, growing little by little each day. Each day he wasted on reaching out to you, looking for something, a connection that wasn’t there for him to wrap those warm golden threads of the Contract around.
He would weep in silence whenever you left the room, going to another part of the house for the night. It hurt. It hurt to feel this cold, this empty and have nothing to reach out to in a vain attempt to warm his Soul and no longer feel so cold. The beating of his heart on its own no longer made him happy, he craved to feel the beating, the warmth, and safety that came with having a Master Attendant.
He wouldn’t find that here, and he couldn’t have that with you. No. You are his savior are nothing more than the name suggest. His savior. His Contract with you is in word alone, the safety, warmth, and feeling of belonging lay dormant and cold in his chest. He felt nothing, but at the same time, he feels everything.
Isolated.
Cold.
Empty.
Tortoise Jelly has no purpose. His purpose died alongside his Master Attendant and her child. The broken bleeding bodies of two humans he swore to protect, their blood now stains his hands and his every waking thought.
[ I’m sorry. It would be great… if we could return home together…]
Nails bite into the flesh of his palm, mouth tasting of iron as Tortoise Jelly allowed himself a moment of weakness. Broken sobs escape his lips as he leans his forehead against his knees, screaming and crying. Blaming himself and the Fallen Angel’s for taking away his family, his happiness and his identity as a Food Soul. Leaving behind a broken, empty and useless puppet.
[ That tone doesn’t say ‘i wanted to rest’ it sounds more like ‘i wanted to disappear. i want to forget who i am and whatever pain i am in.’ ]
Your words both haunt him and anger him. How dare you point out so brazenly at his lack of will to live. His lack of direction. How his want to eradicate the world of Fallen for their slight against him. He hates it. He hates how you so easily pointed it out and refused to let him be and just play the part of an ignorant fool, but you didn’t allow that. You laid it all out bare for him to see.
He hates it, but he’s also thankful.
Tortoise Jelly freezes up when he feels a hand carding through his hair. A body that feels both warm and cold at the same time is what his forehead is leaning against. The cold should have chased him away, but that small bit of warmth has him chasing after it, chasing away the cold lingering in his chest.
“It’s okay... it’s okay.” your voice is muffled by his cries, but Tortoise Jelly welcomes your touch and presence with such ease that he’s surprised by it. The hand and side that are still human like are what he is leaned against and his forehead is against.
Body at an odd angle to keep the in-human parts away while you comforted him and carded your hand through his hair. Sometime later into the night Tortoise Jelly just held onto your hand, like a stubborn petulant child would whenever they're in trouble, but want to keep someone nearby. He leaned into you, the warmth from you chased away the cold that had seeped into his chest, numbing and hurting him all at once.
Warm tea was prepared. The scent calming him and reminding him of happier times before this. Sipping slowly you remained by his side, sitting beside the bed staring at a corner of the room. Giving him space, the room to talk if he so wanted to and the ability to just watch you. A curious human.
“Thank you.” Tortoise Jelly’s words are quiet, a whisper, but he sees how you glance at him for a second before returning to what you were doing before.
In the hallowed space where human souls were molded, Seraphim Sera worked beside the successor of Lucifer in the celestial sanctum dedicated to new life.
Though Emily had grown adept at forming souls over the eons, she still found herself studying Sera's technique with curiosity and deference.
This time, however, she noticed an unusual stillness in Sera. There was a hint of sorrow in her—deeper than any Emily had seen before.
The state of humanity weighed heavily on Sera's heart. It was something even the sacrifice of Jesus had not remedied.
Where she had hoped to see more unity and compassion, humanity continued to stumble.
Devoted to creation and guidance and yet here she was: moved to a grief that seemed to reach even her divine powers.
Without Sera's knowledge that sorrow imprinted itself on the soul she was forming.
As her fingertips hovered over the amorphous light, her unspoken worries and heartache transformed it, seeping into the essence she shaped.
You were different from the start—a rare blend of purity and compassion, a hope born from despair.
No other soul had quite the same resonance as yours. It was as if each fragment of light carried Sera's lingering wish for humanity's redemption.
Emily remained silent as she observed. For all the thousands of souls she had seen, none had been like this. She could sense Sera's guarded admiration as well.
Though Sera (ever the professional) did not show overt favoritism, there was a lingering gaze—a brief stillness, every time her eyes fell upon you.
And then, just as quickly, she'd retreat to her disciplined demeanor as though she could not allow herself the luxury of attachment.
Once your formation was complete, you were sent to Earth with no knowledge of the watchful presence behind your existence.
From the beginning the world proved to be harsh and unforgiving.
Abandoned as a child and abused by those who should have protected you, you were thrust into a life of struggle.
And yet in spite of it all no bitterness clouded your heart nor did hatred take root; instead you grew wise to life's difficulties, meeting each day with a kindness that was resolute.
Each act of goodwill, every kindness you extended, seemed to spark a subtle ripple effect—something that shaped the lives of others and sent positive changes flowing into places you couldn't see.
Having never grown hard or cynical to life, you were granted angelic ascension upon your death.
Upon your arrival Sera awaited you at the gates, a subtle smile softening her usually serious expression as she guided you to your new position before going off to her own responsibilities.
Life in Heaven felt nearly surreal.
Though the celestial realms were as awe-inspiring as they were vast, you felt a strange pang of loneliness among the hierarchy of angels—most of whom seemed untouched by the hardships you remembered from Earth.
Your days was spent in quiet work under higher-ranking overseers with often yourself as company in the towering halls of Heaven.
That was until you were summoned to Adam's chambers.
You had heard much about him from other angels beyond his legacy as the first man. He was someone who had a commanding presence—sharp wit.
But as you stood before him, despite his evident authority, he exuded an oddly modern charm—a confident, slightly arrogant air that might have been more suited to a CEO than an Archangel.
He looked you up and down, his piercing gaze sizing you up as if deciding whether he could work with you at all.
In those first weeks Adam had made his displeasure known. He rarely missed an opportunity to grumble about the favor he was doing for Sera.
You were a lower-ranking angel after all. And Adam made no secret of his annoyance over this fact. It was shown through your tasks.
They were menial at first: simple records and errand-like duties—which unbeknown to you, was actually ordered to test your resolve rather than develop skills.
He was meticulous and unyielding, a mentor who would not accept anything less than perfection and barely acknowledged your efforts even when they met his exacting standards.
But as the days weeks turned to months there were subtle changes. Sometimes he would sit back and watch you with a look that lingered a bit longer than he intended.
You'd catch him softening in brief moments when he thought you weren't watching with a slight curve of his mouth when you managed something especially well.
And over time his critiques mellowed into an almost playful teasing. The conversations once clipped and formal took on a different tone.
He would linger after giving you a task—recounting stories of the early days of humanity, speaking of his own creation and the burden of his role with a tone that almost resembled confession.
Then one day he invited you to walk with him in the gardens—an invitation that you knew wasn't extended to just anyone.
As you strolled among Heaven's flowering vines and ethereal fountains he casually asked about your Earthly experiences, or as he put it, the "domino effect" Sera mentioned in your file.
You told him of your life as a human and the trials you faced and the choice to meet the world with kindness despite its many hardships.
Then, for the first time ever, a full fledged smile graced his face. Its tenderness filled the stillness around you.
That unspoken bond grew.
Even the other angels began to notice Adam's (in all his aloofness) distinct warmth that was reserved only for you.
He still carried himself with that familiar arrogance and exuded his usual authority, but his eyes softened when you were near.
His usual cutting words now had an underlying fondness that only the two of you fully understood.
You didn’t speak of it—didn’t dare name it. But when you were alone there was an undeniable closeness.
It went beyond his usual dismissive flirtations or occasional compliments. His hand would linger on yours a moment too long, his touch warm and grounding as he guided you through the grand halls.
You still felt the guarded edges around him even as he allowed this closeness. Almost as if he were keeping a part of himself hidden.
Though you yearned to know more, knowing the gentleness Adam has for you was reserved for no one else made up for it.
It seemed ordinary enough—one of those rare quiet days where Heaven’s peace felt genuine and untouched by schemes or whispers of unrest.
You had been looking for Adam, searching the grand halls where he often spent his time in secluded contemplation or strategy.
Upon entering his quarters you stumbled upon a series of records and texts you hadn’t seen before—drawings, schematics, plans filled with the details of an endeavor you could hardly comprehend at first.
Shock locked you in place as your eyes darted over the pages, the full picture beginning to take shape.
Adam was planning to eradicate all of Hell in a brutal purge. His intentions scrawled out plainly with plans to make it a bi-annual devastation.
His motivations seemed focused—almost obsessive: he desire to destroy Lucifer for corrupting both his wives and damning humanity to sin.
The righteousness of it felt sinister in a way that clashed with everything Heaven should represent.
It was the sound of footsteps that pulled you from your horrified trance. You look up, catching Adam’s steely gaze as he entered the room.
He stilled, his eyes narrowing as his lips twist into a brief condescending smile before disappearing just as quick. “Eavesdropping now are we?”
“What...is all of this?” your voice shaky but resolute. There was no hiding your distress nor the raw betrayal evident in your tone.
He watched you carefully, his silence stretched painfully long with each passing second drawing his gaze sharper.
“It’s necessary,” he finally replied, each word precise and calculated. “You of all people should understand that.”
You shook your head with disbelief flashing in your eyes. “Necessary? Adam you’re talking about genocide. A-an endless cycle of destruction! How can you say this is the right thing?”
His expression darkened.
“This is for the greater good. Lucifer’s actions have damned humanity, cast shadows over Heaven itself.” Irritation seeped into his voice. “The world would be purer without his influence infecting it, without Hell festering beneath.”
The certainty in his tone left no room for negotiation and you felt the depth of the chasm between you.
You shook your head, taking a step back. “I can’t be a part of this Adam. I...I won’t.”
He watched you as a flicker of something like disappointment shined in his eyes, though it quickly cooled to an unnerving calm.
“Perhaps you’re just not seeing the full picture,” his voice smoothed as if he were offering comfort. “Meet me at our usual spot. I’ll explain everything. Trust me.”
There was a note of gentleness in his words, a familiar echo of the kindness you’d come to know.
Against the shadow of doubt that churned in your chest, you wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that somehow there was something you’d misunderstood.
And so you went to the place that had become yours over the years—a quiet grove within Heaven’s gardens where the two of you spent your time together.
The serenity of it now felt almost mocking.
As you waited you searched for a sense of reassurance, for the feeling that this was all some awful misunderstanding.
That Adam would arrive, put a hand on your shoulder, and explain everything away.
But instead when Adam appeared, his presence felt cold—almost mechanical. There was no trace of the man who had once softened around you nor a lingering warmth in his gaze.
“Adam...” you began only for your words to die on your lips. He raised his hand, and suddenly you felt an unfamiliar pull.
It was as though gravity itself had turned against you. Your wings flared instinctively, but they were useless against the force drawing you downward.
Realization gripped you as you looked up; this wasn’t an explanation. This was a sentence.
Adam’s face was the last thing you saw before the Fall: a sharp tooth grin stretched across his lips.
He raised his hand in a mock salute, almost playful as if he were bidding farewell to an old friend rather than sending you into damnation.
That look—that chillingly gleeful expression was imprinted itself in your mind; searing a deep wound of betrayal that would never fully heal.
Your voice caught in your throat, eyes wide with disbelief as you fell. He hadn’t wavered. Didn't hesitate.
The one who had been your confidante, who had once looked at you with something like love, has casted you down without so much as a flicker of remorse.
Tears escaped and scattered into the wind around you. Just as Heaven faded from sight, darkness fully enveloped you and your world went black.
.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*
You plummet from Heaven like a comet; a streak of searing light tearing through the thick red skies of Hell.
Your form was enveloped in flames as you crashed down with a force that made the very ground tremble.
The impact was like a small explosion—flames erupting, leaving a crater scorched and steaming as debris scattered for yards around.
Slowly you regained consciousness, faint prickles of pain tingling at the edges of your senses.
Your entire body felt heavy. Every inch of your body throbbed with the reminder that you’d been ̶b̶̶e̶̶t̶̶r̶̶a̶̶y̶̶e̶̶d̶ casted down by the very person you trusted most.
Suddenly, you feel warmth pressing against your cheek. You blink, finding yourself face-to-face with a strange malformed creature—a bird if you could call it that.
It had way too many eyes that blinked in eerie unison with a beak far too sharp as it pecked at your face.
You instinctively swat it away with more force than you intended. The creature squawked in protest before flapping its leathery wings and vanishing into the smoky distance.
Looking around you find yourself lying in the center of a deep crater as steam rose from the ground. For a second your mind struggled to reconcile where you were.
Then realization crept in slowly along with a numb sort of disbelief. Hell. You were in Hell.
As you shifted to sit up, soft murmurs above made you snap your head upwards. There on the edges of the crater stood gathering figures— Hell denizens that drawn to the commotion.
Sinners and demons, the curious and wicked souls damned to this place, they all watched you in curiosity.
That is until they caught sight of the faint remaining glow of your halo and pure white wings.
Their gazes turned alarmed before they scattered away in screeches and shrieks, stumbling and tripping over each other in their desperation to flee in the mistaken belief that your arrival was the start of an unexpected purge.
The silence that followed was almost jarring, leaving you alone in the crater as the echoes of their hurried footsteps faded into the distance.
Your body screamed in protest as you slowly rose to your feet.
You try to open your wings in attempt to take flight, but the moment you flexed them, a searing pain flared down your back making you clamp your wings shut with a wince.
It seems flying wasn't an option right now.
With painstaking effort you hobbled toward the crater’s edge, eyes fixed on the steep walls.
Your teeth grit from the pain when you reach out and grasped a jagged piece of rock jutting from the crater wall.
'Okay,' a grim look of determination cross your face. 'Guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.'
.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*
With a weak but firm grip you grasped the edge of the crater, using every last ounce of strength to pull yourself up onto the cracked pavement.
A heaving gasp tore from your throat as you collapsed onto solid ground before scooting yourself away from the crater’s edge.
It had taken longer than you’d hoped, but you’d done it. You were out.
Lying back, you let your head fall against the pavement to stare up at the crimson-tinted sky above.
Clouds churned in dark ominous shades of red as a massive pentagram symbol loomed high above—it glowed sinisterly, slicing through the swirling clouds in sharp precise lines.
Hell’s “moon” hung beside it—a twisted scarred orb that looked as though it had been dragged from the depths of something far darker than night.
And even higher in the distance, just barely visible against the hellish skyline, was the faint shimmer of Heaven’s gate. A cruel and unreachable mirage.
You closed your eyes, letting out a long shuddering breath as you try to gather yourself before reluctantly forcing your exhausted body to move once more.
Just as you managed to stand a strange warmth flickered above your head. Your fingers reach up to touch your now sputtering halo.
The steady glow dimmed as it pulsed weakly—and before you could fully process it, the light extinguished altogether.
The once radiant halo fell and clattered to the ground with a hollow metallic ring.
You stared down at the cold dull metal lying lifelessly in the dust. Your legs buckled and you sank to your knees, reaching out with trembling fingers to pick it up.
The weight of it felt foreign now, devoid of the light and comfort it once radiated.
A sad hollow laugh bubbled up from your throat; a weak attempt to mask the sharp ache of loss.
“...and it was such a good reading light to use,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.
The familiar warmth of Heaven was gone and replaced by an oppressive heat that clung to you as the air around filled with the bitter scent of sulfur.
The betrayal, the Fall, and now your halo—each piece hammered at your heart, leaving you grasping at the edges of your composure as the weight of this new reality pressed in on you.
Fortunately you didn’t have time to dwell on it for long.
“Hello!” A voice cuts through the stillness.
Startled, you look up to see a young girl standing at the edge of the abandoned street, her bright eyes wide with wonder.
She was small, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she wore a frilly red dress that looked almost too pristine for a place like Hell
She moved before you could process her intentions, darting toward you with surprising speed.
You instinctively opened your arms, catching her as she flinged herself into your embrace with childlike trust.
Her weight was slight with a warmth to her that felt strangely comforting. She nestled against your side, tiny hands exploring your feathers as her eyes sparkled with awe.
“Oh wow!” she squealed, brushing her fingers lightly over the downy feathers of your wings that had unconsciously curled around her as if to shield her from the world. “Your wings are so pretty! They look kinda like my dad’s!”
You blinked, still processing the fact that a child was not only here in Hell but clinging to you like you were an old friend.
Her innocent curiosity and lack of fear threw you off guard. For a moment faint memories of the children you had in your human life resurfaced and a bittersweet warmth filled your chest.
“Who might you be little one?"
The girl looked up at you with a giggle, eyes wide with innocence. "My name's Charlie, Charlie Magne!"
You couldn't help but smile. She reminded you of them in a way—of the tenderness you’d once known.
"And why are you out here alone?” concern was heard in your words. It was dangerous even for a child who clearly belonged here.
“I just wanted to see if it was really an angel causing all the fuss. I overheard my dad talking about it and well...I got curious! So I snuck out and—bam! I found you!” She gave you a triumphant grin as if discovering you were her own special accomplishment.
“Your...dad?” you echo softly causing her to frantically nod.
“Charlotte!” A booming voice calls out sending a shiver down your spine. Charlie looked over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up even more.
“Oh! There he is!” she chirped. Wriggling out of your arms, she hops down and began waving enthusiastically in the direction of the voice. "Over here!”
You quickly got to your feet, bracing yourself as you saw him: Lucifer Morningstar—The King of Hell himself striding down the street with an air of authority.
His softened gaze was locked on Charlie as she ran to him. But the moment she pointed back at you and exclaimed, “Look Daddy! I made a new friend!” his expression shifted.
The smile he’d given her vanished and was replaced by something far darker. In a flash he was in front of you, his crimson eyes piercing through you like twin blades.
You barely blinked before you were slammed to the ground.
The impact stole the air from your lungs, you were left gasping as his weight pressed down on you, a foot planted firmly on your chest.
Charlie's pleads of Daddy stop! seemed distant, almost muffled as you struggled to catch your breath.
'Geez...What s up with this family and tackling?'
Your dry thought is interrupted by the cold bite of metal on your throat. The sharp blade is pressed against the skin of your neck making you give a wide-eye stare up at the man towering over you.
His expression hard and unforgiving with an air of suspicion around him.
Synopsis : Orion Pax met a bot within the new cave section, the mysterious bot suffers amnesia and Orion wants to help them recover their memories and uncover secrets within Cybertron.
Prologue II >>
---------------
Prologue I
------------
"Hey! Get back here at once!"
Two guards are chasing after a blue and red bot, who is laughing to himself as he takes sharp turns in order to escape the guards. He runs through the crowd causing the guards to lose sight of the cogless miner.
Orion Pax quickly gets onto the train that would lead him back to the mines, he grins to himself and pops a few energon cubes into his mouth.
"Easy peasy~" he grins as he leans on the wall.
What a day, he couldn't wait to tell D-16 about his research at the Archives. There's a lot of things he wants to talk about and there's might be a chance for them to find the Matrix of Leadership.
As soon the train reaches the mines, he steps out and goes straight to find his friend, D-16.
His optics spots D-16 pushing a cart full of energon, he grins and starts calling out to the bot. "Hey, D!" he calls out as the grey mech turns his helm and glares at the red blue bot "Orion, where were you?!" he hiss. "You've been missing for hours!".
"It's only like one hour! I was quick, don't worry" assure Orion.
"Quick?! You've missed half the day's shift! If anything happens, I ain't helping you with your workload!" D-16 says in exasperation, unloading the energon into the crate. He clearly dislikes his friend breaking the protocols. Always get himself in trouble and he won't be there to save him if gets himself caught by those guards.
"Oh—" Orion's optic widens in realization, he didn't know he was gone for THAT long. "Well, uhh...heh heh...I'll get to work then" the bot rubs the back of his neck. Guess he has to start his shift before Darkwing or Elita finds out he's been snitching work.
D-16 rolls his optics as he loads the last energon into the crate and he will be done for the day. It was tiring and his body felt sore, the workload has been increasing day by day. They barely get any rest, if they do, they only get a few minutes or so.
He closes the crate and watches it get taken away.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Is this all it?" Sentinel says in disbelief, holding a data pad in his hands. He slams the data pad on the table causing everything on the table to be knocked over. He received the news of the mining progression and it wasn't good at all.
Their energon source is depleting and it won't be enough for everyone, let alone... for THEM! The Quintesson.
He has to find a way.
"Argh! There has to be a way!" he vents angrily. His optics turn to Arachnid, "Ready the troops for another expedition, now" he said as the femme nods and exit the office. Once he is alone, he turns around and calls out.
"Zephyrstrike! You told me that everything is going smoothly!" he said, coming out from the shadows is a slim mech in copper and black pallets.
"My master, please. Be patient, my team and I are doing our best to find it" Zephyrstrike said in a calm and soothing tone. "Patience! Patience that's all you said—" Sentinel growls, stomping over to the shorter mech. "I will be doomed once the Quintesson finds out that I barely provide energon for them!" he said.
"I know, master but finding the Matrix isn't easy. SteelHazard is trying his best to locate it, he hasn't had enough sleep for the pass cycles...." the mech said. "Also— I bear good news, master. We have found a new mining area within the deepest caves of Cybertron. It will give us enough supplies for the next 3 moon cycles" Zephyrstrike assures the 'Prime'.
Sentinel quirk a brow at the news, a new mining area means more energon and more energon means more work for the cogless miners. The 'Prime' fixes his structure, "Very well, tell the mining operators about it and make sure everything goes well. Understand?" he said.
Zephyrstrike smiles and bows, "I understand, master" he said before disappearing into the shadows, back where he came from while Sentinel turns and leaves for another expedition.
.
.
.
"Listen up, all of you miners!" Darkwing's voice boom, causing all the miners to stop whatever they are doing. "The exploration team has discovered a new cave system. You know the drill! We call out your names, get your equipment and start digging!" he said. Some of the miners weren't so happy with the news they have received, another cave to mine and they have to work more than usual.
Their superiors start to call out each bots names and surprise that both Orion and D-16 were included.
Orion let out a groan, "Ugh, really? We barely finish with this cave and now we have another?" he said. "Come on, Orion. We are doing this for the good of Cybertron, for everyone and Sentinel Prime" D-16 said, picking up his mining equipment. "Yeah, I know" Orion smiles as he does the same. Both of them went to the station and were ready to be transported to the new cave.
"Hey, at least we get to see something new" D-16 smiles, nudging his friend. "Who knows if we will find the Matrix in that cave" he said. "Hm, you're right! But—I'm going to miss going to the Archives now" he pouts. "Well, at least now I don't have to cover your aft anymore" D-16 said.
"Are you sure about that?" Orion grins as they board the train as it takes them to the new mining section.
“That...was my biggest cock!” he hissed. “You little shit! Do you know how much that bastard earned me?!”
Angel Dust flinched at the venom in his tone, shrinking back as if expecting a blow.
“____, I'm serious—please,” he whispered desperately. “Just go. You’re making it worse.”
You pout dramatically, turning to Angel. “But I don’t want to go without you.”
His shoulders sagged as despair cloud his face. “I’m bound to him okay? There’s no hope. Just go before this gets worse.”
“Bound?” you ask. “By what? This?”
Reaching out you grab at the air—and a glowing fuchsia-colored chain materializes in your hand, shimmering with unnatural energy.
The entire room froze, mouths agape as the chain became visible to everyone.
It stretched taut between Angel’s locked wrists to Valentino's cane.
Valentino’s glasses slipped down his nose, revealing his wide pupilless cerise-pink eyes filled with disbelief.
“What—how—that’s impossible!” he staggered back, his cane shaking in his grip. “That’s...that's a soul contract!”
You frowned, holding the chain up with both hands and inspecting it like a curious child.
“Really? It was so easy to grab though. Must not be that great.”
As you spoke you gave the chain a soft experimental tug. It shattered instantly into nothingness.
The sound of the chain breaking echoed through the silence.
Valentino’s jaw slackened as his cane clattered to the floor. Angel Dust blinked, staring down at his now-unbound wrists before looking at you just as gobsmacked.
