Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Within the Ring of Pride, laid a city called Imptown. 

Within the City of Imptown, was the Party District. 

Within the Party District, nestled a club called ‘Red Right Hoof’. 

And within Red Right Hoof, was a rather…unique specimen of Hellborne to be seen. 

The atmosphere of the club was as rowdy and untamed for a typical ‘Night’ in Imptown. 

After all, when the jobs barely paid and the rampant classism practically made you a 5th class citizen in your own realm, you learned to celebrate your victories by indulging in copious amounts of alcohol, drugs, and the splendidly flexible bodies of Incubi & Succubi. 

The multi-colored lights were abuzz on the dance floor, the restrooms were a turnstile of inebriation & lewd activity. Even the back alley behind the establishment was notable for dark deals and salacious sneaking around. 

The club was populated with Demons of all races and kinds. Imps, Hellhounds, Sharks, Incubi, Succubi, Baphomets, and even a few Sinners added to the downright debaucherous diversity of the club.

Yet the vibrant atmosphere of the dance floor was counteracted by the rather somber and lacking atmosphere at the bar proper.

The dancing, gyrating, groping figures on the dance floor were much more exciting in comparison to most of the figures seated at the bar, who were either moments from being passed out drunk or just glowering in a maelstrom of emotions. 

And at the center of the bar’s dour atmosphere was an especially rare sight within this part of the Pride Ring. 

One of Hell's most elite upper class.

A veritable royal within the Seven Rings. 

A paragon of class, nuance, and grace amongst the demonic thralls of the red realm-

“Oi!!! Bar keep!!! Bring me another drink! This one smells like piss and tastes like spunk!!!”

…And possibly the most avoided person within the entire club currently due to the sheer shitstorm of a mood she was in. 

An Ars Goetia, who was nothing short of a woman scorned.

Sitting perched at the bar, was a tall demon of a woman. At 7 feet tall, she practically dwarfed every other person currently in the club. In fact, it would take several Imps standing on each other's shoulders to equal her height. 

Like the vast majority of Ars Goetia, she bore avian features. Specifically a seamless beak, and white feathers adorning her body. Her black eyelashes were utterly superfluous as they curved back and upwards from her face. Her red eyes narrowed forwards, as her white pupils glared at anything and anyone that managed to grab her attention. The pink eyeshadow she wore added an enchanting edge to her eyes as well.

Despite her tall stature, she had rather curvaceous proportions. While her chest was slightly above average, it was her hips where her body filled out. Her curvaceous figure bore the signs of a childbearing woman, and flowed down like the bends of a river to her avian full thighs.

And it was worth mentioning that her ass was so fat that it practically hung off the edges of the bar stool.

She was most definitely dressed for the scenery, as she was garbed in a reflective silver cocktail dress that left little to the imagination on her curvaceous frame. 

The purposely tight dress was sequined to Hell & back, and every movement of her chest made the lights of the club shimmer off the material. With only a single right sleeve that ended in a fingerless glove, the dress came from her right shoulder to just under her left arm as her bust strained against the tight confines of the dress. 

It hugged her figure stupendously, as the fabric trailed downwards over her hips and stopped just short of her black avian knees. There was a high split in the right side of the dress that stopped just at her pale hip, and several pink colored link chains connected both sides of the split together. 

Atop her head, was a smaller platinum tiara that was more akin to a band around her forehead than an actual resting crown. 

Her slim neck bore a red choker with a black buckle on the front of it.

With her clutch purse in her lap and a barely drunken martini in her black clawed hand, Stella Cygnus of the Ars Goetia was the epitome of attraction, allure…..and sheer fucking bitterness. 

“That fucking bastard!!!!” She huffed as she took a simple sip from her glass. Her red eyes were alight with smoldering fury as she ranted ruefully. “He not only breaks our marriage vows, but decides to sink to the level of screwing a low-class imp????” she wondered, gripping her glass tightly. “Does he even BEGIN to understand what he's put me through??? I have to live in this Ring you know!!!!!!!”. 

Taking another nursing sip, she growled as her eyes narrowed in barely restrained fury. “He couldn't even have the gall to go to a filthy fly ridden succubihouse, or a piss smelling alley!!!! He had to do it IN OUR BED!” She snarled as she shook her glass, not caring if it spilled. “He’s pitiful!!!! He's disgusting!!!!! AND I CAN'T GET RID OF HIM!!!!!”.

Slamming the martini glass on the bar, Stella glared expectantly at the Imp bartender with crossed arms. 

“...You still have to pay for that” the bearded imp deadpanned, as he was cleaning a broken beer mug.

With a growl, Stella whipped out a ‘Brimstone Black-Credit Card' from her purse and slammed it onto the bar. “Fine!!! Just get me another fucking drink!!!”. 

The bartender shrugged, as he took the card and began mixing her another drink. He had dealt with much more rowdy and bitchy patrons before now. So hearing her ranting to him was just the background noise of his night shift. ‘At least she isn't trying to angrily suck me off, like that one Fent huffing Shark who couldn't pay his tab.’ he thought, as he poured her ‘Mephisto-Martini’ into another glass. 

“Tch! Damn you Stolas” she cursed to herself, uncaring as the bartender left to pour some drinks to other patrons. “Damn you and that family of yours!!!!”. 

While Stella's hatred for Stolas was absolutely at the forefront of her mind, her contempt for his family lay even thicker. 

“YOU DID WHAT??????!!!!”

The ear shattering screech did little to affect Paimon. Despite being seated across from her at the table, Stella's screaming still made his head feathers and his cape blow back a partial amount. 

He blinked owlishly without emotion, before taking several sugar cubes and dropping them into his cup of tea. “Would you like me to repeat myself, or are you having a poor time hearing?”. 

She grit her teeth in absolute fury. “You just said that-”

“I called off your assassin, yes”. Paimon casually mixed the sugar, and looked at her with a mask of indifference. The spoon he summoned previously disappeared in a puff of smoke, as he brought the tea to his beak and took a sip. “Mmm. It's good to be rich, and not one of the poors” he sighed contently. 

Stella grit her teeth, staring at Paimon with contempt and confusion at how casually he was taking everything.

“Speak freely.”

Her eyes widened at his words, and she felt her throat dry suddenly. She was glad she had managed to restrain herself to some degree, despite her current emotional state. 

Her father in law wasn't just some Goetia, or a mere royal in the Hierarchy of Hell. 

He was Paimon [Σ] Baeymont Teyvatking Καρδινάλιος Raphaelsbane Infernal Øccidens {IX} Goetia.

His was a name that every member of the Goeita short of Lord Asmodeus, took the time to remember. 

He was the Crowfather. 

The Primordial Parliament.

The Blade Of Lucifer & Arm Of Darkness.

Her parents had practically prayed to Lucifer in thanks, that she had been selected amongst all the children to be wedded to one of his spawn once they were of age. 

Those who showed him disrespect…

Well, let's say that it wasn't unusual for an entire family of the Goeita lineage to disappear in the span of a day. 

Those who were smart, didn't look into it and simply made greedy requests for the now abandoned properties and wealth that were up for grabs.

As she looked at him, she saw his half lidded red eyes staring at her. He was immaculate. He was terrifying. He was especially intimidating, but he was staring right at her in a way that even her own father never had when he had grown cross with her. 

“I had not come to your residence to see you whine as if you weren't free to speak. The quicker you speak your peace, the faster I can leave you to…..whatever pitiful things that you do when I'm not here” he said bluntly. 

Holding the tea kettle to his side, the diminutive form of his attendant Mr Butler immediately came to pour another steaming serving to the King of the Goetia.

Stella glared at Paimon, but decided to take his words at face value. It might be her only chance to get her grievances of this family off her perfectly massive chest. “...You know what Stolas has done? How he's made a fool of this entire family???”.

“I would usually tell you that you should be specific since Stolas has been a fool his entire life. But yes. I am aware of his disgusting homosexual affair” Paimon conceded. 

“THEN YOU UNDERSTAND WHY I'M TRYING TO HAVE THE BASTARD KILLED!!!!” She yelled in unrestrained outrage. Standing up, her fist slammed against the table before she waved her hands around spastically. “THAT BASTARD BROUGHT A LOWBORNE IMP INTO OUR BED!!! HE WHORED HIMSELF INTO ALL OF THE PRIDE RING’S GOSSIP, AND NOW IM LEFT HAVING TO BARE ALL THE SHAME!!!!!”. 

Deadpanned face notwithstanding, Paimon did give a slightly sympathetic nod. “Yes. My son indeed has let people down at every opportunity in his life. Even as a hatchling, he cried like a bitchmade lowborne child when he couldn't figure out how to open a push door”. 

In any other circumstance, that would be absolutely hilarious to Stella. But her ire was currently tempering any desire to laugh at Stolas's past fuck ups. “Then I don't understand-”

“I'm sure you don't”. 

A sudden chill filled the room, causing Stella to sit up straight in her chair. Her eyes grew wide, and she felt her beak dry out from the unspoken pressure. 

She felt a weight bearing down on her shoulders, that ensured her attention. 

Paimon rubbed his claw around the mouth of his teacup. The steam billowing from the beverage shaped itself into a screaming form, silently terrified as it faded into the air of the room. 

“My son….is a failure” he started, as black energy began to gather on his form. He stared into the tea cup, as the liquid began to ripple. 

For a moment Stella dared to look at the cup of rippling liquid, and the utterly monstrous forms that flickered within, showing Paimon's reflection. 

A three-eyed bull with no mouth that was breathing blood. 

An emaciated buzzard whose eyes simply weren't.

A crimson hound wearing the rotting flesh of a prideful lion…

Each reflection sent chills through her being, as her heart instinctively pounded out of control from the pressure. 

She was compelled into silence. 

“His mother, Lucifer rest her soul, had every hope that Stolas would become at the very least, someone who would be happy with their own existence”. As he took a sip from his cup, a crack formed onto the porcelain with a sickening sound. Nonetheless, he kept drinking as if nothing happened. 

“Yet even to her wishes, Stolas has seemed to go out of her way to be nothing but a fruity queer foofy failure. He'd rather gargle the spunk of commoners, than participate in his birthright” he coldly surmised. “What can be said about Stolas, can't also be said about the floor of a succubi abortion clinic. Disgusting, shameless & full of regret”. 

‘By Asmodues. If this were any other situation, I would be asking him for notes on how to insult Stolas’ she couldn't help but think to herself. But she knew better to speak out of turn. Especially with the tension still so thick.

A sigh left Paimon's lips, and Mr Butler handed him a monogrammed hankie. Dabbing his beak carefully, he opened his crimson eyes as he stared Stella's way. “But Octavia, is a different matter entirely”.

“O-Octavia??” She blurted out. “What does she have to do with this???”. 

Luckily for her, Paimon wasn't interested in chastising her or flaunting any superiority. He simply nodded, crossing one hand over the other. “She has everything to do with this. Not only is she Stolas’s heir…but she's the loving reflection of her grandmother”. The corners of his beak upturned ever so slightly, as he continued. “She makes this blackened old heart of mine beat with something resembling love. I still remember when she was just a hatchling, and she would put stickers on me and Mr Butler's faces”. 

Even Mr Butler's eyes closed pleasantly at the many memories of Octavia, making him stand up straighter. 

Such words made Stella repress a growl, before sighing deeply. Her clawed hand came to rest on her forehead,as happy memories of Octavia’s childhood began to clash with more…contentious memories of her daughter's teenage years. 

While Stella had become more entrenched in her hatred of Stolas and his lacking ways, she had become less attentive to her daughter's stresses and worries. By the time Stolas’s adultery had been exposed, Stella was shocked at the utter frustration her daughter had levied her way. 

The time since then had been utterly ruinous for her relationship with her daughter. Every attempt she made to try to branch out to her daughter and explain herself had been met with a cold shoulder, and withdrawn apathy. There were entire days where the most she would say to Stella was a halfhearted goodbye. 

‘Doesn't she understand that I'm also suffering from her whore of a father?’ she could only ask herself, with a quivering beak. The public embarrassment that was otherwise known as her marriage had utterly ruined the standing she had managed to gather amongst the Goetia. 

Years of fostering connections with figures in Hells High Society, attending the most elite soiree’s that had taken her much dealing to get invited to while Stolas had at best “forgotten” despite her every reminder, and using her every skill that her parents had taught her to make the best of even the worst situation-

Gone & down the drain because of Stolas. 

Because. Of. Stolas. 

And now she was even being denied the pleasure of having that whoremongering son of a bitch dead, by her father in law. 

She didn't dare let the rage she felt show on her face, and bit her tongue as best as she could. 

Continuing on, Paimon stood from his seat. His regal cloak shone with damnable awe and brilliance. He both looked down on Stella physically and from a point of superiority. “Octavia is everything that Stolas has failed to become. Passionate, loving, and she has more potential than any one of my direct children”.

“I will do everything in my power to ensure that her upbringing is as least stressful and troubling as possible. And that includes the necessary evil of keeping my son alive and in the picture”, he said with finality. 

Stella could do nothing. Absolutely nothing in the face of the Lord of the Goetia’s decree. Even if by some miracle she had the influence to match his, his demonic power and mystical ability could turn her into a mindless doll with the merest twitch of his finger. 

Even as she fought tears, they still welled up in her eyes as her defeated glare was avoiding Paimon's form. Her beak was grit tight, and she balled her fists up so hard that they turned an even paler white than her serene feathers. 

“I am glad we could come to an understanding” he drawled simply, checking his claws dismissively for any dirt or dust. “I have paid your assassin a handsome amount to never accept your calls again, and I would advise you to figure out a way to….cope, as the youths say”. 

“Sire, we have a reservation in the Gluttony Ring for ‘Succu-Soft Serve’ upcoming”, Mr Butler notified succinctly with a glance at his pocket watch.

Immediately, Paimon's face turned from a cold countenance to immature joy. “Oooohoohoo! It's been too long since I've had such a treat!” he giggled, clapping excitedly at the reminder. “Prepare the royal iced treat vehicle!!!” He announced, as he headed for the door to Stella's home. 

“At once, sire”. Waving a talisman, the loyal Imp butler was able to summon a large bicycle. Placing it over his shoulder, he followed his master outside without another word. 

“Tch. I don't know what was worse. The utter unfairness of it all, or having to hear my father in law cheering like a child as he rode away on the handlebars of that damned bicycle” she growled, before knocking back another drink. 

The conversation she had endured a week ago was still fresh in her mind. She was numb, after Paimon left. She sat at the same table for an hour, just trying to come to terms in silence. 

And then she absolutely wrecked the entire common room, in her rage.

She threw furniture, she ripped paintings off the wall and implanted them into windows, and her screams made all the fine china shake…and crack.

It all left her exhausted until she could do nothing but fall into a heap of feathers and torn clothing as she wept at it all. 

She hadn't felt this powerless in her life since-

“Since I had to marry that prissy lying bastard” she gritted out, with a huff. 

Vtttttttttt!

“Oh fuck me”. Immediately her hunched back lowered even further, from the sound of her phone vibrating inside her clutch purse. Dreading the sight of her smartphone, she grabbed it to see none other than the contact of her dastardly brother Andrealphus on the screen. 

The contact photo of a screaming blue haired male Ars Goetia with white curlers in his hair was showing, along with the notification [+17 Missed Calls]. She didn't hesitate to swipe her thumb to ignore the call. “Let the frosty fucker choke on his own ass for once” she muttered bitterly, before turning her phone off. 

Her brother had been utterly unhelpful in every capacity. Not only did he insult her for trying to hire an assassin to kill Stolas, but he was livid at her for gaining Paimon's attention. To her shock, her brother blamed her for her ‘foolishness’ & called her every name in the book. 

For so long, Andrealphus had belittled her. Always criticizing her, always pushing her to tears with his mocking how she would amount to nothing. Even on her wedding day, he managed to make things even worse for her, by snickering and taking jabs at her while she was gaining the courage to finish dressing. 

So she did the most logical thing.

She straightened her dress. 

She cleaned her mascara off her face as best as she could. 

She opened the refrigerator...

And she beat her brother with the door to the fridge until she was in a screaming rage and several Imp servants had to pull her off of him. 

After begrudgingly having her bruised and unconscious brother taken back to his own Manor's apothecary, she had been ignoring his every call & message. 

So it was here she was. Trapped in a loveless marriage with the most sexually unattractive creature in Hell, despised by her daughter, the target of her brother's frustrations, and on her way to getting drunk in a piddledick club in Imptown. 

‘Maybe I should hire an assassin to kill myself, and save myself the trouble of an entire lifetime being echained to Stolas at the hip’. The frustration in her face settled into begrudging acceptance, as her shoulders still weighed down. ‘If things can get worse I'm not sure how’.

“~Heeeey there, feather-tits”. 

'I'm starting to think that my shitty brother was at least right about me learning to keep my mouth shut,’ she thought dourly, as her face fell flat. Glancing to her side, she was made aware of an Incubus leaning on the stool next to her. 

He was a vibrant red color, with pink dyed hair. He was wearing a fishnet top, and skinny jeans that somehow both sagged and clung to his lower half. His yellow eyes were boring into her, as he was obscenely licking a lollipop with his pierced split tongue. 

‘Oh Sins damnit’ she lamented, at the sight of the scantily dressed succubi. ‘Please tell me he isn't going to fucking hit on me’. 

“What's got you down? Looking to get hit on, baby?”. The Incubus grinned, batting his eyelashes with the cockiest of grins before tossing away his lollipop. 

Stella was utterly unimpressed with his attempts at flirting. If it could even be called at. It unfortunately wasn't the first time that she had been hit on by cocky Incubus or Succubus. ‘Ugh. Foolish Incubeggar. They all think that their puff & smoke disguise their ugly desperation as they lower themselves to fucking anything with a pulse’. 

Putting a mild amount of effort into hiding her disgust, Stella forced a smile on her face. “Ahaha no. I'm just here for a drink. So if you could just go literally anywhere else-”.

“~Aww, don't be like that” he purred in a suave manner. He winked at Stella, as a deep red haze of dust gently swirled around him. Hearts & arrows formed from the dust as he propped up his chin with his gloves hand. “Why not cut loose, lay back, and let me lay you loose?”. With every word, he licked his lips as he channeled his inner charm. 

Stella stared flatly at the Incubus, as nothing but silence was heard between them. The ambiance of the club continued on, but the Hellborne was utterly unashamed of the silence. He simply continued smirking at Stella with all the confidence of someone who was used to getting his way. 

‘Shit. I never thought I would have to resort to this, but it's looking like I have no choice’. Mustering her resolve, she fought the urge to gag as she did her best to keep her face as even and unemotional as possible. “I have a husband. So….no.”

Instead of accepting defeat, he simply chuckled and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “~Heh. Oh I've been around a few desperate housewives myself-”

‘DID THIS FUCKING TRASHY SUCCUSLUT HALF-NAKED SMEGMA SMOOCHING TWINK SHAPED SPADE-TAIL UGLY FUCKING MENSTRUAL MANTIS COCK HUNGRY PINK-SKINNED MAN WHORE OF A SPUNK SPITTING AIDS ANGEL JUST CALL ME DESPERATE???!!!!!!!!!’ she screeched internally. Her claw clutched the bar so hard, that the wood splintered from her poorly repressed wrath.

“-And trust me babe. You don't look a day over 40, and you're more than fuckable for someone your age”. His words fell out smugly and without any sense of hesitance. He smoothed back his hair, and boldly bit his lips as he leaned even closer to Stella. 

…

…

…

‘I'm going to kill him, and make it look like it was on purpose’. Stella was staring at the Incubus with utter shock. That he had the gall, to think that his cheap pickup lines and whorish attitude was enough to win her his favor. 

As Stella was moments away from emptying her glass onto his face, and battering his head into the bar, a hand tapped the Hellborne’s shoulder. 

“Hey, move. You're in the way”. 

The Incubus didn't even bother turning around, as he simply waved the intrusion away to focus on Stella. “So anyways, I'm getting some great vibes from you. What do you say you and me head over to Ozzies in Lust? I've got the perfect spot in the alleyway outside the building” he bragged, with a bright smile as he looked at his nails. 

‘Ugh. Listening to him flirt is like anal sex in the ear canal’ Stella cringed. She could only roll her eyes, all but praying for some calamity to strike this Incubus. 

She had no idea how soon she would get her wish. 

“Im trying to get to the bar.”

“And I'm rizzing up this dime piece of a Hellborne, pal!” The Incubus barked with a strained smile. He still didn't look behind him at the person addressing him, instead choosing to still try and romance Stella. “So, how big of a fan of condoms are you? Because I've got this allergy-”

“Christ! You call this shit flirting? It's like watching a retard trying to hump a doorknob”.

Stella was taken aback by this blunt insult, and she openly snickered. She had to carefully breathe through her nose, just to keep from choking on her martini. 

This made the Incubus grit his teeth. Trying to save face, he forced a smirk on his face, as he leaned back against the bar casually. “Im not surprised some rando like you can't recognize flirting when he sees it. It's an art form, after all”. 

“Art? A Hellhorse with the runs can make ‘art’ if you give him a canvas to catch the shit. It doesn't mean it's any good. And neither is your ‘rizzing’ pal. I've seen hookers who are better at their jobs, than you are at trying to get your rocks off”. 

“Pffft!!!!”. Stella made no attempts this time to hide her amusement. She giggled to herself, wheezing in utter amusement at this scantily dressed Incubus getting dressed down.

This made the Incubus absolutely livid. Turning around, he bared his teeth to the figure with utter rage. “You want to say that again you fucking piece of shit??? I've broken guys on my dick, who were bigger than you!!!”. 

“A purple-pixie like you??? What, did your spunk make them slip and crack their heads? That's pretty much the only way a Porn Parasite like you could actually hurt someone. I mean, look at you- Oh wait, I take that back! Just staring at you is giving me a fucking aneurysm”. 

“OH REALLY? YOU THINK THAT YOURE HOT SHIT???” The Incubus lashed out. His eyes became slits as he marched forward at the figure addressing him. “BECAUSE DONT THINK I WON'T FUCK YOU UP AND-”

Tap

The Incubus barely had a moment to blink in confusion, as a large hand touched his chest calmly. 

FWOOOOOOM!!!!!

And then he was surrounded in crimson & black flames. 

The sudden amount of demonic flames utterly encompassed the Hellborne demon as it left Stella, the bartender, and the entirety of the club to watch as the hot flames burned the Incubus and only the Incubus. 

After a full minute, the flames extinguished themselves and all was quiet. And the spot next to Stella at the bar was utterly empty, save for a pile of ash and a half melted down tongue piercing.

The music had stopped. 

All conversation was silent. 

Even the strobe lights had halted, as everyone had just witnessed the murder of the Incubus. 

“Fucking asshole” the assailant muttered, before taking the seat next to Stella at the bar. “Great. Now it smells like rimjobs and rusty trombones”. 

The bartender frowned, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. “Adam, we've talked about this. You can't just go killing customers. Even if they are gross date rapist assholes”. 

“What? I didn't kill him! It was totally self defense” he responded, before swiveling around on his seat and turning to the rest of the club. “A FREE ROUND OF DRINKS TO EVERYONE WHO SAW HIM PULL A KNIFE ON ME!!!!!” he shouted, without shame. 

The club immediately exploded back into action, as everyone cheered. Waitresses began carrying drinks and drugs of choice to the many patrons, as the music returned and the lights strobed once again. 

The bartender rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn't seem too disturbed by the attempt. 

With a raised eyebrow, Stella watched as the man next to her grabbed a stack of Souls and tossed onto the bar. “Here ya go, Tex. Keep the change and use it to buy Martha something nice”. 

The apparently named Tex stared at the thick stack bills before grabbing them with another sigh. “The usual, then?”. 

“Heh! Nope. Today I want something good”. 

Tex the Bartender rolled his eyes as he began cleaning another glass. “Hardee-Har-fuck yourself Adam”. 

“Seriously though, I'll take some top shelf stuff today. I wanna feel like a rockstar, without having to mainline cocaine for 2 decades”.

With a nod of his head, Tex reached up and grabbed a glowing green bottle, with a yellow wax seal on the bottle. “Here you go. $666,666 bottle of Teyvat-Tequilla. 40 years old, 217 proof”. 

“Ahhh, you know me so well Tex. I'd almost think you'd want this to kill me”. 

Tex could only shake his head, as he wiped down the counter. “You're the only Sinner that comes to my bar, that I can say I don't wish was dead Adam”. 

As the bartender left to pour more drinks, Stella could only watch curiously. ‘A Sinner?’. She genuinely wasn't sure which surprised her more. The fact that the sinner had gone from murdering a Hellborne to apparently being on good terms with another, or that a mere Sinner had managed to grab her attention in such a way. 

She was hardly someone to admit interest in anyone. After resigning herself to married life with Stolas of all people, she had focused all her efforts on being a mother to Octavia along with attempting to foster her family's standing amongst the elite. 

So now that she was here, dolled up and only focusing on herself, she was actually able to admit that this Sinner was…well, someone worth focusing on. 

It was worth noting that even when seated, the sinner somehow exceeded her own height. Ars Goetia usually towered over common Hellborne and Sinners in overall height, so the fact that she had to look up to capture his full appearance definitely spoke volumes. 

He was wearing a large open red coat that almost resembled a robe. It had black frills, with crimson colored runes sewn into the fabric. Around his neck was a black collar covered in sharp black metal spikes that resembled a bundle of thorns. Underneath the coat, a white cross shaped sash reminiscent of a priest’s came down to his black jeans and his ruby red unlaced boots. He wore a yellow shirt with a notable ‘A’ symbol layered over 3 pentagram. 

The sinner's appearance wasn't something particularly special. It was as unique as every sinner's appearance. Making it by proxy, not unique. 

Most of his appearance seemed to be rather draconic. He had two pairs of horns jutting from his head. The first pair was black as night, as they curved back slightly from the top of his head. The second pair was a bright gold, as they curved downwards from the sides of his head.

His skin was the color of pale charcoal, and he had a mop of spikey crimson hair atop his head with a matching red soul patch on his chin that made him resemble a billygoat. Finally, she was able to notice a large lizards tail absentmindedly laying against the stool before it pooled on the floor. 

As Stella inspected this Sinner, she couldn't help but notice the undeniable essence of power that leaked from him. While she didn't have the predispositions for magic that Stolas, Andrealphus or even Octavia had, she could still sense it without question. She prided herself on her ability to observe and measure magical energy, despite not being able to harness it herself.

And this sinner? 

It was like watching 100 blood thirsty Goetias burning alive in a hearth made of Hellfire and Angelic Steel. 

None of the Hellborne or even other sinners in the bar could notice it, but Stella could see him for what he was. 

Power, and the lethal willingness to use it. 

‘...And he's not too bad on the eyes, either’ she had to admit. While her own sex-life was as empty and uneventful as a Imps bank account, she still could admit when someone was fuckable. ‘Not only that, but the way he dealt with that foolish Incubitch…'

Stella had to straighten herself up, as she couldn't help but prop her chest forward instinctively. She cleared her throat, as she put all her focus onto her Martini. “Well, I suppose you expect a ‘thank you’ for your assistance?” She casually hummed to herself, trying to appear as if she was uncaring. 

“Ah! Woah!” The Sinner practically jumped in his seat. His golden slitted eyes widened as his head turned to look at her as if he didn't even register her existence before now. “Fucking Christ! Have you just been sitting there this whole time!!???”. 

Stella blinked owlishly. ‘Did…..did he seriously not notice me sitting here?’. Masking her disbelief, she took another sip of her drink. “Well, it's not as if I've made any effort to hide myself”. 

The Sinner scratched his chin with a frown. He shrugged noncommittally, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Shit, I guess that's fair. Anyways, I don't need a thank you. I didn't do it for you”. 

“Oh? You didn't save a damsel in distress?”. Stella smirked knowingly, as she held a hand to her chest. “Im sure you found yourself all too eager to get in the good graces of an Ars Goetia like myself-”.

“A what?”. 

Her beak paused, as she was stopped from speaking by his statement. Her brows furrowed as she looked at him as if he was dumb. ‘Is he mentally stunted? Surely he's not serious’. But it was true, as the sinner was staring plainly at her. 

His lips were pursed in an almost innocent fashion, as he scratched his chin once again. 

Choosing to try to ignore his fumble, she cleared her throat and tried to move forward. “...Ahem. An Ars Goetia-”

“Oh. God bless you”. 

“No you dolt! An Ars Goetia! The ruling class of the Hellborne! I'm Nobility!” she finally snapped, repeatedly slapping her hand into the other. 

“What the fuck do I care if you were born with a gold spoon up your ass?” He scoffed. He looked entirely unimpressed, as he looked her up and down. 

Anger was now welling up inside of her, as she grit her beak. “You should care, if you know what's good for you Sinner! A royal such as me is well above your station”. 

“Can't be that good if you're in this shitty bar right alongside me” he deadpanned, before motioning around him. 

She levied a sneer at him, huffing indignantly as she turned away. “Wha- how dare you! And to think I found you moderately attractive!”. 

“Oh trust me, you still do”. 

Now this made Stella's eyes bulge out of her skull as she almost got whiplash from turning back to him. “Ex-cuse you???”. 

The man nodded, as he casually was twirling the entire bottle on his finger as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “You heard me. You want it bad. Want to know how I know?”. 

The man was met with silence from Stella. She glared at his casual- but not entirely baseless- assumption, but said nothing. 

Catching the unopened bottle again in his hand, the quadruple horned Sinner looked at her before picking something out of his teeth with the tip of his tail. “I can tell you want me, because you're still here”. 

“BULLSHIT!” she spat out. “I can't believe the absolute gall you sinners have!!”. Stella was practically in his face, as she leaned forward. “You think immortality and a piss dick’s worth of magic gives you the excuse to disrespect your betters!!!”. She pressed her finger to his chest to emphasize every word, and laid into him. 

“You Lord yourselves up as the most powerful and strongest, when in reality you're nothing but foolish, stupid, brainless, suicidal-”

“Handsome?” He offered casually while he balanced the bottle on the end of his prehensile tail.

“Handsome cretins with nothing resembling-!”

…

…

…

“I just called you handsome out loud, didn't I?” She numbly asked, with her claws weakly lowering. 

“You just called me handsome out loud” he nodded, flashing her a grin and making a finger gun. 

Thump!

Despite the fact that she slammed her head down onto the bar counter, the Sinner simply stared at her. 

“...You alive?”

“I wish I wasn't," she pitifully muttered. She was utterly uncaring about her face against the wood of the bar, and felt as if she had fallen to the depths of every emotion & state she herself ridiculed Stolas of. ‘I'm a disgrace. My husband is getting away with his infidelity, my daughter won't speak to me…and now I'm being read like a book by this stupidly handsome Sinner’. 

But to her surprise, she was brought out of her depressed musings by several pokes to the cheek. 

“C’mon. Don't get depressed yet. Save that until after we get drunk”. 

‘...What?’. “I'm sorry….we?” She asked, finally raising herself from the bar. 

The Sinner reached over the bar, grabbing two glasses before grasping the neck of the Tequila bottle with his tail. “Yup. You heard me, bitch. I've got a private room upstairs. I use it when I want to get hammered in private, and that's what we're going to do”. 

Once again, she found herself blinking owlishly at the absurdity of what he was proposing. “...Why do you have a-”

“Private room upstairs?” He finished, before hopping off his stool and making his way away from the bar. “Because I killed some fuckheel Sinner losers who tried to kill Tex & rape his wife. Now stop asking questions and c'mon”. 

As he disappeared through the throng of dancing and gyrating demons, Stella was in disbelief. “...My life is not at that low of a point that I'm considering doing this”.

Splish

Sploosh

“So, what's your issue?” casually questioned the sinner, as he poured the two of them some Tequila. The glasses sparked when they came in contact with the highly flammable high proof alcohol, setting the mood in the upstairs small parlor the two sat in. 

The circular purple table had a pentagram emblazoned on the top of the tablecloth, and an ibis skull contained two blue candles inside the eyesockets with pink flames. 

Several matching pink lanterns cast light in the room, and the tinted window to the left gave Stella a birds eye view of the streets below. 

To the Sinner's credit, he didn't seem to be some mouth breathing necrophiliac. He was the first into the parlor room, unlocking it with a key. He allowed her to have the seat closest to the door, and he didn't seem bothered when she demanded he leave the door open before she would enter. 

So as she sat across from him, Stella could only balk as to what his angle was. ‘Is he truly wanting nothing more than to drink with me? Well, that is understandable. I am drop dead gorgeous’ she thought without any bias or amount of grandeur. 

“Wait. What do you mean ‘issue’?”. The man's words suddenly caught up with her, as she crossed her arms under her notable bust. 

He shrugged, before rolling his hand to accentuate his point. “You know. Like, what's your thing? Your problem? The reason that you're here of all places”. 

A deep frown worked its way back onto her face, and she resented the implication. “You mean like how your problem is that you kill indiscriminately?”. 

“First of all”, he started as he summoned a red flame at the tip of his index finger. With a flick of his hand, the flame shot into the glass and a crimson flame shot up half a foot into the air. 

Kshooom!!!

The crimson flames simmered down, before they turned a sickly yellow color. The flames sat on the surface of the Tequila, causing the Sinner to grab his glass and casually blow out the flames. “I don't have any problems”. 

“You just admitted to killing people not 5 minutes ago” Stella deadpanned.

“You're telling me you consider Sinners people?” he countered with a frown.

Now this made Stella blink in actual surprise. 

Such a statement was so controversial. 

So prejudiced. 

So absolutely crude and utterly apathetic to any and all issues that Sinners endured. 

…

…

…

And it brought a smile to her face, as she extended her hand to the Sinner. “Stella Cygnus. A pleasure to make your aquatintance”. She spoke with genuine interest and crossed one leg over the other. 

“Heh. Adam Yahweh.” He replied, giving her hand a hearty but gentle shake. “But feel free to call me...Dickmaster”. 

“Don't push it”.

Chapter Text

 “My husband….is a thoughtless pitiful bastard”. 

“Oh yeah?”. Adam was propping his head up with his hand, circling his clawed finger around the mouth of his glass. “His dick too small or something?”. 

“No…….well yes, but that's not the issue” Stella rolled her eyes. “If it were just a matter of size, then I could work with that”. 

“Hey, is that thing that chicks say about ‘size not mattering’ real? Because I've heard it come from the stuffy bitches, but they all happen to be screwing tall guys with beef buses in their pants” he wondered, tapping his chin. 

“No. Size always matters”. She spoke honestly, plainly, and factually. Taking her own glass, she brought it to her beak as she nursed her Tequila. “Two things matter physically, when it comes to men. Height and cock size. Any woman who says otherwise hasn't had enough of both”. 

Such brutal honesty surprised Adam, but he could only shrug. “Damn. Lucky me that my old man gave me a massive hog and enough height to dunk on Goliath”. 

He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a small breath of sulfur before resting on the table again. “Anyways, you gonna divorce this chode?”. 

“That's the worst part! I can't!!!” She screeched before slamming her hands on the table. “Even if I could somehow get the divorce, I would get nothing!!! The house is his, all the accounts are in his name thanks to the contract our families signed when we were betrothed, and I would be nothing short of a pariah in our circles for divorcing the son of the Goetia King!!!!”. 

“Oof”. 

Despite the rather casual way he was responding, Stella couldn't help but find a small amount of relief in the way this man was allowing her to vent. ‘Ever since Stolas’s Luciferforsaken affair became public, I've had nobody to speak to! The fact that I'm having to play therapist with a Sinner is something I would never live down if it got out’. 

Adam poured himself another glass, his golden eyes looking up at her curiously. “You ever think of mending it up with him? I mean, he's your husband right?”. 

This made Stella open her mouth to rebuke…only to say nothing. She was frozen for several seconds, before she sighed heavily. She rested her face in her hands, before rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. “I…..know it would be what's best. As much as I hate him, I know that it's my duty as the head of our household to have things in order”. Looking back up, she grabbed her glass. 

She looked at her own reflection in the Tequila, and saw the smiling face of a teenaged swan- like Goetia that enjoyed the happiness of her life before she had to be married to the worst Goetia in all of Hell. 

“But I just feel so wronged!”. Her glass slammed down on the table, and fury marked her features. “Everyone I know has lost their minds, and I'm the one bearing the fault for ALL of this!”. 

Nodding, Adam sat back in his chair as she kept hitting the table. His tail instinctively moved, catching the bottle of Tequila which had been knocked over the edge of the table from her frustrations. 

“My so-called friends have abandoned me, my daughter won't talk to me, my own brother only sees me as a tool to manipulate his station, AND I’M STILL STUCK WITH MY BASTARD OF A HUSBAND!!!!”.

For the first time since meeting this night, Stella was finally eye to eye with Adam, thanks to her standing up out of her seat furiously. 

But even still, Adams was composed. He put the bottle back on the table, nodding at the information provided. “Well that's a shitty situation to be in. No wonder you came to drink your problems away”. 

Instead of angering her, or annoying her, or making her lash out…his words made Stella's beak quiver. She sunk back into her seat, with defeat painted on her face. “I..I don't think I have it in me to fight anymore”. With shaky hands, she took off her tiara and stared at the platinum woven around the gemstones. 

It was a gift from her late mother. A tiara she had specifically commissioned for when Stella got married. 

Unfortunately, she wouldn't live to see Stella finally become of age. And her father would pass on from grief soon after, leaving an uninterested Andrealphus to walk her down the aisle a half a decade after. 

“It sucks, but sometimes you can't fight what you can't win,” Adam nodded. He swirled his glass around with a soft sigh. “It's stupid, but the truth is fucked like that”. 

Doing her best to keep the tears back, Stella put her tiara on the table in defeat. “I suppose that….being cheated on isn't the worst thing in the world-”

“Woah woah woah woah! Hang the fuck on!”

Her eyes widened at Adam’s sudden outburst, and she straightened up instinctively from years of conditioning from Andrealphus’s demeaning words. 

“You said that this guy, your husband, cheated on you? Is that what I'm hearing???”. Adam was now standing up, and it was her turn to have him in her face. 

She nodded dumbly, as she was unsure about what would happen next if she spoke. 

But even her silent reply seemed to cause a reaction in the red robed demon across from her.

He frowned. 

Deeply. 

His face was practically threatening to split in two. His slitted eyes darkened, and the colors inverted for just a moment. Scorn covered his visage, and his tail gripped one of the legs of the table so hard that she could hear the wood splintering from the pressure.

But instead, Adam closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He reached across the table and grabbed her cheeks in each hand. “Stella. Baby. I want you to listen very closely to what I'm about to tell you”.

Once again, she could only nod. The seriousness of the mood had taken her off guard, but luckily her concern for her safety had lessened once Adam himself seemed to calm down. “...Y-yes?”. 

“.......Fuck your husband. Fuck him with a 50 foot dildo made of herpes, feminism, expired guacamole, and covered with a sandpaper condom”. 

She blinked, as he spoke cooly and calmly like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Smooshing her cheeks softly with both his thumbs, he once again continued with his sage words of advice. “Forget everything I said before about your dipshit failure of a fuckweed husband. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong”. 

The silence between them was maddening. 

Stella felt her heart skip a beat, just for a moment. 

Her eyes were wide, as her beak was open in disbelief. 

“I….I……what?”

“Tch. You heard me, babe. You”, Adam waggled his finger in front of her face, “did”, he raised his arms in an x formation, “nothing wrong!”. 

“B…but you don't even know me!”. She was utterly confused. She didn't understand. She….

She was actually being believed and reassured in her weakest moment. 

Ever since her parents passed away, she had been on her own. She had to grow up in a world of status and class, with nobody to assist her and no one to instill their faith in her. 

Even with the birth of her daughter, she had to be the one to give support and love unconditionally. Every skinned knee, every argument with a best friend at private school, every tummy ache from eating too many rats late at night, she was there for her daughter in ways that no one had been for her in decades. 

So to have this stranger, this random Sinner insisting that she was valid and objectively in the right…

“Psh! Fuck that!” He scoffed. “I know enough about cheaters to know that they're the ones who fuck things up for all the good people”. Sighing to himself, Adam crossed his arms as he sat back in his chair. “I know this cause…well, I was cheated on too”. 

Now immediately hooked, Stella leaned forward with all the interest possible. “You were???”. 

Adam nodded bitterly. He grabbed his glass, and knocked back the entire thing as he hissed from the liquor running down his throat. “Yep. Lost one wife to a slimy fucker. Then lost the second one to the same bag of cunts”. He finished, by exhaling a burst of flames out of his nose in indignation. 

The sorrow and resignation that Stella had steeped herself in was being chased away by the shock of the situation. 

Not only was she finally being seen for all the struggles and issues she had to endure, but she was face to face with someone who knew what it was like. Someone was finally understanding of her position. 

“It's…it's absolutely awful.” She spoke numbly to herself. 

“Oh yeah, it fucking is! Even if you fell out of love with them, the fact that they just followed their crotch to someone else while you did everything to make things work is like the biggest dick smack in the face”.

“Exactly!!!”. Sitting up straight, confidence was filling Stella as a fiery passion was alight in her eyes. “Even with everything I put up with when it came to Stolas, I'm suddenly the villain because he decided to sleep with an Imp in our marriage bed!!!!”. 

“Ugh!!! Fuck this guy! Nope! We don't make nice with cheaters in this house! Fuck them, fuck their whores, and fuck everyone who sucks their cocks like they can do no wrong!!!” He boldly announced.

Stella cackled in agreement. “Ha! You're damn right!”. Righting her tiara on her head, she grinned and chased the last of her guilt away. “Stolas and everyone else can take a Hellhound cock right up their loose assholes”. 

“That's the spirit babe!!!”. Unscrewing the bottle again, Adam poured both of them another glass of the Tequila. He grabbed his glass and raised it in the air with a sharp toothed grin. “Here's to always being right, and being better than cheating whores”. 

Now this was something Stella could drink to. Raising her glass as well, she smirked smugly. “To always being right, and never letting that wimpy fruit Stolas live down his fuck up”. 

Clink

Their glasses met, and Adam channeled magic to make twin flames in the shape of dragons shoot up from the glasses and intertwine. 

The flames simmered down to yellow once again, and they both knocked back their drinks as the night was yet to unfold. 

“Woah woah woah woah. You're telling me this fucker wore BDSM gear to a party?” Adam asked with disbelief on his face. 

A disgusted nod was Stella's response. “Don't even get me started. I told him specifically ‘Darling, the Swiners Family are throwing a gala this evening. I have to help organize things, so make sure to show up wearing something nice at 10:30’. And he assured me that he was capable of doing such a ‘simple thing’ like that”.

The half empty bottle was further poured by Adam into Stella's glass, who gratefully smiled and took another sip. 

“And when the Gala was in full swing, he not only shows up late which puts him at the center of attention of the manor doors, BUT HE COMES IN WEARING A LEATHER GET UP WITH A CHEST WINDOW, HIGH HEELS, AND A FUCKING BALL GAG AROUND HIS NECK!!!!”. Her glass splashed slightly, as she animatedly shook her hands at the memory. 

“What the actual- why the fuck would he think showing up like a gay gimp to a rich people party would be a good idea??”. 

“THANK YOU!!! BECAUSE THAT'S A REASONABLE THING TO ASK SOMEONE, UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES!!!!”. Stella was in utter agreement, and the tenor of her voice reflected this. “I was mortified. I had to march through everyone and pull him away to the hallway!!! I asked him why in the Sins name that he would wear such a thing”. 

Scoffing, Adam could only roll his eyes. “Oh boy. This should be good. Here comes the dodging accountability”. 

Stella set down her glass, as she bunched her cheeks up. She gave herself puppy eyes and clutched her hands dramatically. “Stella! It's not my fault that I got confused. I thought you said it was a SWINGERS party! Woe is me, because I got so horny at the idea of fucking some woman's husband, that I didn't think about how fucking stupid I am for dressing like a gutter slut! Don't yell at me!!!!!" she parroted pathetically. 

“PFFFFTTTTT AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH MAN!!! OH FUCK IM DYING!!!!!!” He guffawed, holding his stomach. 

Grinning further, Stella continued as she dramatically raised her hand to her head. “Stella, can you help me return this leather outfit? I think it makes my ass look flat”. 

They both absolutely lost it, as Stella joined in with laughing. She practically had to dab her eyes with tissue to keep her makeup from running. 

“Aaaaamd, here's me and O-octavia at a playgrounnnd” Stella slurred. She held her phone to Adam, showing him a picture of her hugging a smiling Octavia with pigtails. 

“Awwwww. She's such a cute demon..birdy girl thing”. Adams face was slightly blushing, as he grinned dopily. “You must be…be….uh…be proud as a mama bee”. 

An equally blushing Stella nodded with pride, as her face was flushed and she swiped her phone to show another picture. “She's my cute little songberd. I luv her sooooo much”. But she then switched to a cute pout, huffing tiredly. “But now she's soooo grown. She dun want to listen to me anymore. She just wants to…..kill animals”. 

“Wha?”. Adam scratched his head with his tail, absolutely confused in his drunkeness. “Your kid kills animals?”. 

Stella's own brow furrowed. Realizing the mix-up, she shook her head in with her hands in front of her. “Wait wait, no. I fucked up. She likes to….have their dead bodies”. She scratched her head for a moment, before she shook her head again. “*Hic* wait waaaaait, I'm fucking it up again. She likes the….uh…..the thingy where you have animals…but they're like statues?”. 

After chugging the Tequila fek. The bottle for several seconds, Adam wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Taxidermy” he answered, despite his tipsy state. 

“Yeshhhh! The Taxes derby!” She snapped her fingers, finally remembering her daughter's favorite hobby. “I just don't get it! Iz just so…creepy”. 

“Aww, don't say that shiiiit. She's yuur daughter. She's just going through heeer period years. She still is yuuuur baby girl. Just cuz she's a bitch, doesn't mean ya give up on her. Oooogh”. 

As Adam laid on the table tiredly, Stella's drunken mind processed his stilted words as best as she could. 

She had been less than supportive of Octavia, when she had previously tried to relate to Stella in the most recent years of their relationships. 

She had prioritized her popularity amongst her fellow Goetia, over her daughter's suggestion of them joining a book club together. 

And she had let Stolas’s actions be a sorry excuse for her behavior which had driven a wedge between her and Octavia. 

Especially when she was the one who had suffered more than Stella. 

“Oh Satan, I'm such a baaaaaad mum!” she whimpered. She dropped her phone on the table, and buried her face in her hands. 

Her sudden flip of her emotional state made Adam drag his face across the table. He clumsily scooted his seat across the floor until he was next to her. “Noooo no. Stella babe. Yuurrr a good mom”. 

Her makeup was now running fully, as she wept openly. “No! I'm a s-shitty mum! Octavia h-*hic*! Hates me, and it's all my f-f-fau-*hic* fault!!!!”. 

Now at her side, a massive pair of glowing sinewed dragon wings appeared out of Adam's back. They were transparent, and softly filled the room with a ruby red glow as they wrapped around Stella. They brought a strange primal warmth, allowing him to then pull her hands away from her face. 

“Stalayella. Listen babe. You done fucked up. But ya love ya daughter, riiiight?”. Adams' drunken slurs didn't inhibit his bedside manner. Even though his eyes were hazy, he still had a sympathetic look on his face. He rolled his wrist to emphasize his words. “It's not to late to….to……uh, to fix her up yurr relationship with her”. He thumbed his chest, and exhaled a small plume of fire on accident. “Truuuuuust meee. Imma expert in being too late”. 

Stella looked up at Adam, and saw his lopsided sharp toothed smile. She smiled in turn, as she tried and failed to not smudge her makeup when she wiped her eyes. “Really? You think so?”. 

“Hey hey…….probably?” He shrugged. 

Vtttttttttt!

The sudden sound caused the two of them to blink in confusion. 

Looking down at the table, they both saw that the source was none other than Stella's phone. Since she had turned it on to show Adam pictures of Octavia, the inevitable had happened in the form of Andrealphus once again trying to reach her. 

“Uggggghhhhhhhh!!! It's A-A-A…..Andrealphus!!” She practically exhaled verbally. Her hands were thrown up in utter annoyance, thanks to the sight of the accrued messages from the last hour. 

His screeching contact photo was flashing on her screen, along with the notification of [+34 Missed Calls].

“Whut’s a Anne rallpuss?” Her drinking buddy questioned curiously, as he caressed the almost empty beer bottle lovingly. 

Her soured mood was reflected on her face, and she stuck out her tongue to blow a childish raspberry. “He's my brother. He so just maaaaaad at me for beating his ass cuz uh…cuz he called me a fat cow”. 

“Woah…”

The pair of them were silent for several seconds. They both peered at the phone on the table, before their eyes met once again.

“Wanna fuck with him?” Adam asked with a wicked grin on his face. 

“Fuck youuu! Get out of my head!!!” Stella gasped happily as she picked up her phone. Her clumsy thumbs were a blur of motion, and Adam’s wings disappeared when he stood up to peer behind her shoulder. 

“Yeah!!!!!!! Fuck Andy Ralposs!!! Call him slurs!!!!”

“On it!!! Who’s the queer steer now, biiiiiiatch????”.

It was 3 am in the morning, when Stella pushed open the door to the guest room of her home. 

She felt as if she was carrying all of the Pride Ring on her shoulders, as she walked through the dark room that she had been occupying ever since Stolas's infidelity had driven her to finally choosing another place to sleep. 

Her tiara was carefully left on the doorknob, before she lazily and slowly disrobed while making her way through the expansive room. Her dress pooled on the floor, as her long black legs were made bare to the cool air of the room. 

Her choker ended up on the chandelier above, when she tossed it behind her casually with half lidded eyes. 

“And a one…and a two, aaaaand-” she murmured, as she unclipped her gray lace bra from behind. As she released the expensive bra, her large breasts bounced free from their bindings. “There we gooooo. The gurls are back in town” she breathed out in relief. Her clawed hands rose to her E-cup breasts, as she half-heartedly massaged them. They jiggled and gently sagged, as her pink nipples instinctively hardened in the cool air of the room.

And after dropping her lace gray panties, she was left utterly naked in the dark of her room. Her body was a display of motherly allure, as her curvaceous figure was perfectly reflected in her form. A plume of pale pubic feathers were present at her crotch, and her rear wobbled gently with her every step forward. Even her full thighs were a sight to behold, as she continued into the room proper.

When she made it to her bed, she unceremoniously flopped forward and sunk into the mattress. She lazily pulled the comforter to halfway cover her. Her face nuzzled against the cold pillow, slightly working against her drunkenness. “Mmmm. Bedtime” she moaned in relief, as her drunken state did nothing to wipe away the memories of last night. 

She and Adam had only further grown closer with one another, above the club. His words of affirmation at the night's start were the unexpected preamble to...well, the best night of her life. 

After they prank called Andrealphus, they threw caution to the wind with one another. The floodgates had opened, and so had they. 

Adam opened up about the pain his last two wives caused him and he had drunkenly ranted about how life sucked as a sinner. She was absolutely understanding, and she made sure to pat his shoulder…and hold him as he cried about having nightmares of a midget cyclops?

They laughed together, they cried with each other, and Stella found herself lamenting having to go home when the time came. A part of her was genuinely worried that this was just some one-off happenstance that would haunt her in her most lonely moments going forward.

But Adam was a loving bastard through and through, as he helped her into her carriage. They had thankfully begun to sober up slightly, so Stella was able to call one of the servants to bring the carriage to the Club where she was dropped off earlier.

She tiredly leaned out of the window smitten, and he in his tallness smiled at her with the goofiest of tipsy grins.

“Heh. Glad that you decided to lighten up, Silk Swan. Here. Take this. It's my number. Give me a ring if you need someone to talk to, or decide that you want someone to kick your shitheel husband’s ribs in”

Stella blushed as she touched her cheek faintly from where Adam had nuzzled his nose against her face. As the Imp driver cracked the reins and she was driven home, she couldn't help but touch her chest and reach out towards him. 

As several Sinners and Hellhounds were openly brawling outside the bar, and a Baphomet was screaming from having gasoline thrown onto their candle causing them to run around on fire, Adam smiled her way and puffed out a heart shaped flame from his mouth. 

She giggled like a schoolgirl, as she waved at him before blowing him a kiss. She was past the point of caring if anyone saw her or not, and all she could think of was what it would feel like to actually make contact with her kisses. 

The ride back home had given her time to think. And the lingering alcoholic haze had allowed her to not be plagued by stress and logic. 

For the first time since it happened…she was able to realize how little she cared about Stolas's affair. 

Her priorities had been shuffled, and she saw her world in a new light. 

Octavia 

Motherhood

Affection

Honesty

Apologies

Family

…Adam.

“Is this what you meant, mother?” She mumbled in bed as her eyelids grew heavy. “Finding someone that makes the change inside you, worth bringing outside?”. 

For so long, she hadn't understood the words of her mothers that came with the precious heirloom tiara. Even when she was the only one who visited her parents' gravestones, she pondered their meaning. But now it was all clear. 

Love.

The type of love that changed the way you saw the world.

And the type of love that when lost, brought forth sorrow to cause one to fall until they were reunited with it. 

The thought that her parents felt such pure love for each other, that it reunited them in death was like nothing she ever could consider.

As her eyes closed for the final time this night, she couldn't stop the quiet giggle that escaped her lips at the mental image of a roguish horned Sinner flashing her finger guns and wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Hehe…goodnight Adam”.

Chapter Text

Octavia wasn't a morning person. 

But to be fair she wasn't a noon, afternoon or night person either.

She wasn't a people person, she wasn't an anti-social person, and she wasn't a person who liked labels. 

She was just…her own person. 

But that was neither here nor there. The main point was that her mornings followed a similar ritual. 

Get dressed

Hurry through the kitchen

Try to avoid mom & dads arguing 

Eat: (Optional) 

Catch a carriage ride from the servants into wherever it was she wanted to go at the time. 

And today was no different. 

She walked barefoot down the hallway to the kitchen, dressed in her usual black and floral outfit. She absentmindedly adjusted her beanie, so it was just on enough to look like it would fall.

‘Cant have anyone thinking I'm a try-hard with my look’ She offhandedly thought. She paused at the hall, at the usual distance that would give her a listen into the kitchen but kept her from being spotted by anyone inside.

She held her breath, listening in for any of the trademarked signs of both her parents occupying the same space. 

‘...No crashing plates. No screeching. No servants getting maimed in the crossfire. Hm. Dad must still be passed out upstairs’. With a shrug, she continued towards the kitchen with the intent of grabbing a bagel or a rat-

“Damnit! Again? I just started!!!!”.

The sound of her mother cursing so early in the morning made her shoulders sag. Octavia groaned, and she cursed under her breath. “Ugggggh. Shit. I spoke too soon”. 

Just when she was about to turn around and wait out the assumed arguments her parent had, she heard her mother speak more.

“Fine! We'll just have to see what this means……alright…..’Hedonism-’ no, that's not it. ‘Hemmorage-’ wait. That's a ‘m’, not a ‘n’.....ah! Here we are. "Hellenistic: relating to Greek history, language, and culture from the death of Alexander the Great to the defeat of Cleopatra and Mark Antony-" wait! Who the fuck are all these people??? What does any of this have to do with that whore Helen???”.

Octavia paused mid-step, as she blinked in confusion. Her brow furrowed, and she swiveled on instinct. “...Did….did Mom just research the word ‘Hellenistic’?”. She had to be mishearing things. ‘Was there some new servant named Helen that pissed mom off?’.

Deciding to listen in further, she quieted her thoughts and dared to take a step closer. 

“Fuck!.....Okay okay…we'll just skip that one”.

It was quiet for several seconds, but Octavia did hear the faintest of sounds from the kitchen. As she strained her hearing, it sounded like…

‘Mumbling?’. After a moment of confusion, she was able to put two and two together. “Wait wait. Is Mom…reading?”. 

This had to be a misunderstanding. The only time her mother held any substantial kind of book, is when she attempted to throw them at dad. But this couldn't be that. It was too quiet, and the context didn't match up. 

The risk of walking into a tiresome situation was high. ‘...But I'll be damned if I'm not awake and interested now’. She took a deep breath, stealing herself before she slowly walked further to the kitchen. Every step brought her closer and closer. The mumbling grew louder, and she was now able to smell-

“Breakfast?”. ‘Did mom make herself breakfast?....I didn't even think she could cook’. 

Finally coming to the kitchen's entryway, she not so subtly peered inside. 

To her relief, there was no signs of a dramatic one-sided war at her father's expense. In fact, the kitchen looked…surprisingly clean.

There were dishes in the drain next to the sink, and the trash was bagged up next to the wastebin. 

To her surprise, the table was set with a large display of a rather appetizing looking breakfast. Pancakes, sausage, bagels, eggs and even a bowl of rats. 

‘I….this doesn't look like the servants cooked this’. She actually rubbed her eyes in surprise, as she swiveled her head at the unfamiliar sight of….a kitchen at peace. 

“Fuck! There's too many complicated words in this story!!!”

The sound of her mothers voice once again brought her from her spacing out, and she was brought to the biggest shock of the day. 

Her mother, who had never shown any sort of literary interest, was sitting at the table…..reading a book. 

‘.......Am I on drugs?’ she thought in absolute befuddlement. 

Utterly giving up on attempting to be hidden, Octavia stepped into the kitchen proper. She approached her mother, seeing her wearing her usual outfit of a pastel pink and white dress, with her tiara placed on her head. She was able to catch her mother scowling in frustration. “Lets see..."I had the power to summon you. But could not hold you there". Hmph! Serves you right, mortal. It looks like you bit off more than you could chew, for trying to control a Demon”. Stella smirked smugly, as she held the book up once again to her face, and continued to read it aloud. 

This was the last straw for Octavia’s disbelief. “Mom????”.

“AAAHH! I'M SORRY SOLOMON! PLEASE DONT BIND ME AND MAKE ME LABOR LIKE ONE OF THE POORS!!!!” Stella screeched out in fear, practically jumping out of her seat. The book hit the floor, and she spun around to face the source of the voice that caught her off guard. 

But when she saw it was none other than her daughter, her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. “O-octavia!!!” She squeaked, standing up awkwardly. “I-I thought you w-would be in town already!!!!”. 

She herself wasn't much better, as her beak felt dry. “I…uh…..got a late start” Octavia coughed into her fist. 

The two of them stood there, as the cumbersome presence eliminated any possible ice breakers. 

But Octavia's attention was drawn to the floor, as she saw a book splayed open. It had highlighter marks in it, pencil footnotes written in the margins and even sticky notes. She cocked her head, before bending over to grab the book. 

Immediately, Stella's eyes shot open in fear. “N-no! That's alright! I'll just-” she quickly spoke, trying to reach the book before her daughter. But Octavia was faster. She closed the book, and looked at the cover. It was a simple purple hardback, with the following title in pink & gold cursive writing. 

[FAUST]

Part II

By Johnathan Wolfgang Von Goethe

“Mom? Are you...reading this?” She couldn't help but ask with an unfamiliar feeling welling up inside her. Her mother read not only a book, but one of the classic literature of Human & Hellborne interaction. ‘I don't know whether to be nervous or impressed’ she genuinely thought. 

“Er- no! I was….um…..I” Stella stuttered for a moment, before she sighed and fell back in her chair. “...Yes, sweetie. I was. Or at least trying to”. Her shoulders sagged, causing her to drag her clawed hand down her face. “But by Lucifer's sceptre, this story is impossible!!!”. Stella practically ran her hands through her hair in annoyance. “Everything is confusing, and I don't understand the story, and I've reread the beginning 6 times and-”

“Mom. This is part 2”. 

Stella blinked owlishly , and her usual gold tiara almost fell off her head. “W-what?????!”. 

Octavia nodded, pointing her claw to the cursive script with the roman numerals. “Yeah. Faust has two parts…..you did read the first part, right?”. 

As a deep blush grew on her mother's face, Octavia snickered. She raised a hand to her mouth, trying and failing not to laugh.

Despite the unintentional jab, Stella still managed a begrudging smile as she saw the amusement on her daughter's face. “Hmph! Very well. Go ahead and laugh at your poor dear mother who was defeated by a dead British writer who loves to hear himself talk”, she pouted playfully with a cross of her arms. 

Shaking her head, a genuine smile broke out on Octavia's face. “German. Goethe was German, mom”. 

“Hphm! Same difference”. 

‘Now there's the mom I know’ she couldn't help but smile. Thumbing through the book, Octavia could see more of the notes her mother had left in the book. 

[Parable = boring story giving out some lesson]

[“When One Is Polite In German, One Lies”. ABSOLUTE CINEMA!!!!!!!!]

[Universal Masquerade ≠ Cosmic Gala. THANKS FOR GETTING MY HOPES UP YOU SWEDISH FUCK!]

[“Es blebe bleibt dick?? doch endlich nach wie vor Mit ihren hunson hunderttausend Possen Die Welt ein zigzag einzig grope großer Tor”. Lucifer fucking damnit…Translate later]

[“Lusts cannot fill him nor happiness content, He whores after changing shapes and cannot rest” Who knew that it was Stolas that this Faust fellow was trying to summon? Ha!!!]

‘Translation, symbolism, definitions, analogies…was mom actually trying to understand the book?’. Gazing across the table, Octavia witnessed more evidence that contributed to this fact.

Several other books were stacked nearby on the table. From what Octavia could see: there was a dictionary, an 1st volume Ars Goetian history book, an human language dictionary, and a book with a taped up cover that seemed to say ‘poetry & literature for dumb bitches’. 

“Mom, what's going on? I just….I've never seen you act like this before”. Octavia's brow furrowed, as she pulled up a chair and sat in front of her mother. While she had felt hurt and conflicted with her parents constantly arguing, she didn't want any pain or suffering to go to either of them. 

Stella cringed for a moment, before she sighed. “Very well. Don't laugh, but I've been trying to…expand my horizons. So I could better understand you”. 

Octavia's eyes were wide. 

“Don't laugh”, Stella deadpanned. 

Octavia's face pursed up, as a guttural snickering came from her beak.

“Don't you dare! I'll never forgive you for laughing. I'll die from embarrassment and move to the Wrath Ring to raise goats!”. 

Octavia burst out into a fit of giggles. A rich laughter that came from her very chest, in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. 

Stella sighed, but smiled regardless and rested her chin on her hand. “I know, I know. It's pathetic”. 

“No no no! It's good!”. Now taking her mother's hands in hers, the brightest of smiles was on Octavia's face. “You…you really were trying, weren't you mom?”. 

A faint blush graced Stella's once again. Her eyes were downcast, and she spoke with a solemn regretful tone. “I…I've failed you as a mother Sweetheart”. 

‘WOAH WOAH, WHAT THE-! DID MOM JUST ADMIT TO-’. It was blow after blow for Octavia this morning, and her disbelief was reaching entirely new heights. Her jaw was open wide, and she blinked as if she was seeing double. 

As if she could sense the shock and awe in her daughter, Stella nodded. “I…..my life has not been one I've been proud to live, Octavia. I lost my parents when I was your age, and my brother practically cast me aside as nothing more than an optional pawn whenever it suited him”. She balled her fists up for a moment, before sighing and sagging her shoulders. “And just when I felt as if I had tamed what little I could control in my life, your father's…incident had come to light”. 

Now it was Octavia's turn to feel solemn. She avoided looking at her mother.

Finding out her father had cheated on her mother was a sledgehammer to the peace that was Octavia's life. 

It shattered the illusion that she was under, that her parents loved one another and were happy together. 

The countless one-sided screaming matches her mother levied against her father, had revealed to Octavia the fact that her parents had not only had an arranged marriage…but she was born at least partially out of obligation. 

Her father was gay, and had slept with a male Imp in their own house. 

Both her mother and her father had individually tried to paint their own pictures of what happened, who was at fault, and why she should listen to them. 

But she didn't want to hear it. 

She was hurt, and confused, and absolutely tired of all the lies and having to bear the truth that was tearing apart her family. 

Sometimes she was just so overwhelmed, that she would go to her grandfather's castle, and would run into his arms to cry about how powerless she felt at it all.

It's why she stopped smiling as much. Why she stopped spending so much time with her parents. Why she stayed out late and did everything she could reasonably do to keep from being at home. 

So the fact that her mother was bringing this up definitely was making her hesitant. 

Hesitant…but not unwilling to hear her out. 

“There was a time where I tried to love your father, Octavia. And the fact that I felt as if all my work and effort into trying to be the type of hardworking wife that my mother-”. 

Octavia watched a series of emotions cross her mother's face. 

Hurt.

Recognition.

Acceptance. 

Emotions that Octavia had reasonably didn't think her mother openly felt. 

But nonetheless, Stella straightened up and let out a breath to calm herself. “...But that wasn't anything I should have brought against you, or your father”. Stella leaned forward, and took her daughter's hands in hers once more. 

She gave a reassuring squeeze, with a heartfelt smile. “And even if it takes me until you become a strong proud woman in your own right…I'm going to work hard to prove to you that I want to be the mother I promised you I would be when I held your egg for the first time”. 

It was a memory that Octavia remembered like it was yesterday. 

Darkness, but also warmth. 

She barely understood anything. Didn't see, or smell, or touch, or taste. 

Only feeling. 

And then she heard it. The faintest weary voice, that was muffled slightly yet all the tender. 

“...-don’t know if….hear me….But I'll be here.”

It was the first words she heard, even when she was wrapped in the confines of her egg as a partially formed entity of flesh Goetian magic. 

“...will be here for you. To watch you hatch, to help you grow, and give you what you need to become the woman you're destined to be. Until you find the one to carry the torch, and bring out the inner powerful Goetia you are deep down”. 

They were the words that comforted her in her darkest moments, no matter how bleak things seemed. 

"You're my daughter, your everything that my mother believed I could become...you are Octavia Cygnus Goetia. And nothing will ever change that".

Drip 

Drip drip

Octavia squeezed her mother's hands, and felt her teardrops falling onto her forearm. She sniffed, before pausing to wipe the moisture out of her eyes. 

“...I've got two conditions. If you're serious about this…about changing for the better, then I need you to promise me you'll meet them”. 

Hope and surprise filled Stella and she gulped, nodding vehemently. “O-of course! Anything”. 

“First….I need you to stop fighting with dad”. 

The words were like a cold dagger to Stella's throat. Immediately, her beak opened to rebuke. But she caught herself, seeing the expectant look her daughter was giving her. 

Despite how much the Imp on her shoulder was screeching at her to refuse to do anything that would give Stolas peace of mind…she knew better. 

She felt the firm hand of her father on her shoulder, and heard the gentle whisper of her mothers words in her ears. 

“Let it go, little swan. For her & yourself ”

She inhaled deeply, before pinching the bridge of her beak. Her furrowed brow relaxed, and she gave a conceding nod. “I'll do my best. I can't say I'll smile around him…but I promise I won't antagonize him”.

To her own surprise, a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. ‘Perhaps I've been the one holding myself back, and not Stolas……I still hate that limpdick cuck though’. Straightening her dress and folding her hands on her lap, Stella cleared her throat. “Ahem. What's your second request, sweetie?”. Even with the concession, she couldn't help but soften her visage. 

And in turn, Octavia smiled mischievously as she picked the book back up and offered it to her. “My second request is that you go back and read the first part of Faust”. 

“But sweeeeetie!!!” Stella huffed dramatically, leaning her bust against the table with a look of defeat and misery. She let out a whine, her arms splaying out childishly. “It's so boooring! I'd genuinely rather listen to your father go on about his notary public skills!!!”.

Her mother's actions made her laugh. Shaking her head, she placed the book in Stella's hands with a confident smile. “Don't worry, mom. I'll help you. I went through my Faust phase when I was 11”. 

“Hmph. I'm glad at least one of us is able to understand this human nonsense”. 

They laughed together, at Stella's faux reluctance. Octavia embraced her mother in a hug, and Stella held her snugly. 

Her palm gently cradled the back of her daughter's head, and she pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I'm so sorry, Octavia-”

“It's okay, Mom.” She cut off gently. For the first time in a long time, she looked up at her mom with a smile. 

A tried and true smile, from the depths of her cynical heart. 

“You made mistakes. But you're- I mean, we're going to try hard to fix things for the better”. 

Stella returned the acceptance with a smile, and another hug. “That we will, my little Songbird”. 

Now it was Octavia's turn to groan dramatically. “Mom! I haven't sung since I was little”. 

“Oh, but I remember when you used to put on shows for me!”. Stella clapped her hands excitedly, gushing at the memories of an excited young Octavia. “Your little concerts were so adorable!”. 

A blushing roll of her eyes was all Stella received in response, leaving her chuckling as she got up and grabbed a plate from the table. “Alright alright, I'll stop. Are you hungry? I made this spread because…well, I wasn't sure what you liked”. She placed several items on the plate, as she walked over to the microwave to reheat the now lukewarm breakfast. 

The young Goetia nodded eagerly, as her plans to hang out in the city were all but forgotten. “Yeah, mom. That…that sounds great”. 

Vtttttttt!

“Hm?”. Octavia looked down at the table, and saw that her mom's phone was ringing. Grabbing the phone on instinct, she gazed at the screen before her eyes widened. 

“Pfffft! Ahahaha!!!”

The laughter made Stella cock her head, as she pulled the steaming plate from the microwave. “Hm? Is everything alright, sweetie?”. 

Practically gasping from laughter, Octavia was holding onto the table for support. Managing to stifle laughter, she did her best to speak. “O-oh sure! Everything is f-f-fine, mom. Just one question”. 

“Of course, sweetie. What is-”

“Who's Dickmaster?”

Crash!!!

Stella felt a chill wash over her, as the plate fell from her hands and she stood straight as a board. “W-what??!!!!!”. Her face was now more pink than her dress, as panic covered her features. “I dont-! I mean-! Ummm! W-where did you hear that n-name???”. 

Now smirking mischievously, Octavia took a moment to casually glance at her claws. “Oh you know. I was just sitting here, minding my own business. But I couldn't help but see a ‘certain picture’ on your phone when it rang”. 

To her mother's horror, Octavia flashed Stella's own phone at her. The phone was ringing and vibrating, and there was a veeeeery familiar demon on the contact image. 

A grey skinned sinner was smirking towards the obviously selfie taken photo. His sharp teeth were in a smoldering grin, as he was laying back on a bed. His hairy chest was covered in faded scars, and his stocky yet muscled form was brought to bear. 

His crimson bedhead was aloof with both of his arms behind his head, as his shaved armpits glistened in the light of the photo. 

And the worst- depending on your perspective, part of all was that he was utterly naked and undressed. 

A thread bare thin sheet was covering his crotch, but not enough to where nothing could be seen. The frame of the contact image ended just after his hips, and a dense mane of crimson hair could be seen leading from his chest hair, peaking out of the sheet that was showing half of his hip, and rather lazily covering his crotch. 

And the icing on the devil's food cake? 

The contact name that was currently flashing underneath:

★Dickmaster~<3★

“NO! HAHAHA NOTHING YOU'RE NOT SEEING ANYTHING SWEETIE!!!” Stella forcefully laughed as she was sweating bullets. She immediately rushed over to the table, nearly slipping on the spilled food as she tried to reach to grab her phone from her daughter. “NOTHING YOU'RE NOT SEEING ANYTHING SWEETIE!!!” Stella forcefully laughed as she was sweating bullets. She immediately rushed over to the table, nearly slipping on the spilled food as she tried to reach to grab her phone from her daughter. “NOTHING TO SEE HERE!!! JUST UM GIVE ME MY PHONE SWEETIE!!!!!!”. 

But Octavia was not one to be deceived. She moved the phone out of her mom's reach, as a devilish smile threatened to split her face. “Why mom!” She faux gasped, “I thought you told me once that ‘A proper lady shouldn't do such indecent things with the lowborn commoners’?”. 

“I- WE HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING YET!!!!” Stella sputtered. She was utterly desperate to reach her phone, and her face was red out of sheer embarrassment.

Ducking under her mom's arms, Octavia backpedaled expertly through the kitchen. Her bare feet were nimble and quick, allowing her to literally stay one step ahead of her desperate mother. “Oho? ‘Yet?’?? How daring, mother. Should I have the talk with you now? Explain to you the ‘Devils & The Dames’? I sure do hope you're being sexually-”

“OCTAVIA PLEASE GIVE ME THE PHONE THIS INSTANT!!!!” Stella screeched bashfully, gently tackling her daughter to the floor. 

The pair were a mess of shameful whimpers, and rich young laughter, as they rolled on the ground together on the pristine floors of the kitchen. 

As the phone clattered away, the sound of juvenile squeals and revenge tickles filled the room. Further cementing the mother and daughters bond, as the phone was thankfully swiped back into Stella's possession. 

Octavia's teasing not withstanding.