Greetings, my name is John Amaral. The current [REDACTED] of site 14. I'm also a writer, who loves to write erotica and action, with some comedy sprinkled.
Due to current research and worries about a containment breach, actual posts (such as stories, one-shots, and requests) might be slow, but do not worry, they are being worked on!
Important to mention that I have Autism and Anxiety, especially social, so be patient with me.
Also, I'm Brazilian. (It would become obvious even if I didn't say it now)
Erase Your Light
Requests are open, including One-shots and headcanons. (As well as stories if your idea is favored by staff)
It's condoned:
Gore
Smut
Fluff
Angst
Law and morally abiding Kinks (first is somewhat optional)
It is NOT condoned:
Heavy Kinks (piss, scat, vomit, etc...)
Pedophilia
Incest
NonCon (Rape)
Hate for minority groups
(More can be added in the future)
The topics above might be discussed, but will not in any shape be romanticized and will contain warnings.
Take Your Flight
The Space Anomalies Fandoms that I will write for are the following:
Hazbin Hotel
Helluva Boss
Manhunt Rockstar (1/2)
Trepang²
Ultrakill
Helltaker
Awaria
Dark Souls (1/2/3)
Bloodborne
Fallout: New Vegas
Madness Combat/Project Nexus
More can be added
Fandoms I might write for but don't have much knowledge:
Murder Drones (on watch list)
RWBY (long story but I have knowledge until 3 season)
The Coffin of Andy and Leyley (haven't played. Swear to Christ if you come at me with incest-)
ZZZ (... The women are hot-)
Site 83 SCP foundation.
More can be added
To a Place Where You Will be Remembered
Important information:
I'm a huge fan of Crossovers and Genderbend, so requests and story ideas will be hugely appreciated and focused on.
Also, Masterlist and Ocs and Ideas I might work on or just want to throw in the air.
Now doing commissions~
To A Place Where You Will Be...
Thank you for reading this through. If you have, send a message! I'm shy but I very much appreciate it.
And I hope you have a wonderful time here in Site 14, brought to you by Horizon Corporation™
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The Archivist's Oath || Alastor x Reader, Chapter 43: for sale or not for sale
Plot Summary: Alastor finds an Archivist who can translate Old World texts. Equally bound to their duty, you and Alastor traverse the tricky landscape of love and commitment…but to whom and to what?
Synopsis: It’s lore time. Always make sure you’re in a decent mindset before reading any of my chapters from this point on.
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"They certainly didn't waste their time sending a ransom note," Carmilla said, drumming her long nails on the wooden table. The other Lords and Ladies, along with Lucifer, locked themselves in their meeting room just like the way they locked their districts down.
Vox glanced down at the piece of paper in the center of the table. An hour after dawn, the White Angels sent a metal glider with a white flag on top, and inside was the ransom note, demanding a meeting between the leader of the White Angels and Lucifer, leader of Pentagram City.
Vox looked between the paper and Lucifer. Their leader sank further in his chair, arms crossed, and had a thousand yard stare. Vox tapped his finger a few times then asked the room, "What could they possibly want from us besides our surrender? They have two of the most important people."
"It's a trap, if you ask me," Velvette commented from beside him. She had her feet up on the table despite the situation. "They already have the princess and the archivist. Now they need the king."
"If they wanted our surrender, they would've asked it already," Carmilla said. "Why bother with a negotiation if they can demand our surrender with his daughter? Never mind the Archivist." She glanced unsurely in Alastor's direction, as did everyone.
The Radio Demon had been uncharacteristically silent since the beginning. It felt like a summer pot, just waiting to boil over and burns anyone nearby. The only people who had witnessed his immediate reaction was Lucifer. Alastor threw himself over the surface and tried to catch up to the escaping party before they reached the encampment.
But he was too late.
The camp had been put on full alert, already braced for his attack, and it forced him to retreat back into the safety of the ravine. He slithered into the empty cell where he proceeded to yell and curse and claw up the stone walls until his fingers bled.
Even now, hands wrapped and treated, he sat stiffly in that chair, buzzing with nervous, wrathful energy. It was a stark contrast to Lucifer's silence.
"What if they ask for Lucifer in exchange for Charlie?" Rosie asked.
"I'll do it in a heartbeat," Lucifer muttered.
"Then they would've said that in their note." Carmilla picked up the paper and read it over. "The fact that they're not giving an exact demand besides meeting with them just means they have something in mind that they want to trade. Something really complex that's hard to write in our language."
"Just saying none of this would've happened if you kept a closer eye on the prisoner," Velvette shot at her.
Carmilla glared across the table. "It was entirely out of my hands. I had no part in educating the prisoner in our language."
"You're military. You're supposed to keep us safe from outside and inside threats."
"That jurisdiction falls into Alastor's hands, as well." Carmilla's voice softened at the end, not quite wanting to aggravate him anymore than he was already. Especially since she sat directly next to him.
"And he was too busy fucking the Archivist to care," Valentino added with a wide, smug grin. Alastor's eyes flashed and Rosie put a hand on his arm.
"So what do we do?" Vox practically shouted in an effort to bring the topic away from the Archivist. It hadn't escaped his notice that the note said the White Angels would be trading Charlie, not the Archivist. Whether they had a separate deal for the Archivist or were planning to keep her for themselves, he didn't know. And neither did Alastor.
"I have to meet them," Lucifer muttered again, this time slightly louder than before. "There's no other choice."
"Who are you going to bring?" Vox asked. The White Angels allotted Lucifer one companion to go with him.
Lucifer was quiet for a moment. "No one in this room."
Carmilla leaned toward him. "Sir, if I may—"
"No," he interrupted, his voice firm yet cracking like glass, "I need every one of you here to protect your districts. Whatever happens to me, you're all that's left to keep things intact."
"So...then who?"
Lucifer stared through Carmilla, like she wasn't actually there and he was seeing something behind her. But eventually, he answered, "Sheba."
"Who?" Velvette owled.
"Sheba," Rosie repeated. "She's a worker in my district and is best friends with our Archivist."
"Why her?" Velvette asked with a curl in her nose. "This isn't about the Archivist."
"Sheba knows a lot about what's going on," Rosie explained. "The four of them are close and she knows a lot of top secret information from our Archivist. Besides, she has a bone to pick with the prisoner after knocking her out."
"Maybe there's a way we can have reinforcements overhead..." Carmilla began.
Lucifer shook his head. "I don't want to risk Charlie if they think we're double crossing them. But you're right, if they wanted our surrender they would've demanded it. So that must mean they want something else from me."
"Maybe it is you they want. What will we do if they capture you instead?"
Lucifer held Carmilla's stare for three long breaths. "Then I want you to carry on as you have been. I don't want anyone to trade anything for my life."
"Lucifer..." Rosie said softly.
"You're fine rulers, all of you." His gaze sweeper over every face. "You all have your shortcomings and your problems with each other, but through it all you care about your people. And that's what I want you to do. You'll think of something to break the tie on decisions." He gave a weak smile.
"Let's keep everything on high alert," he said next. "Until we know what they're planning, we're treating this like an act of war."
His eyes fell on Alastor.
"This just may end up being a War for Humanity."
~*~
My elbow slipped on blood as I tried to pull myself away. The scout held my legs down while Adam sat his entire weight on my back, plucking feather after feather from my wings.
I didn't know wings could bleed so much. I didn't know I would ever experience pain worsen than what Valentino did.
I screamed and begged, but they didn't stop. He didn't even ask me to translate the page. He just kept pulling my feathers for the fun of it. Even when I promised to translate the page, he didn't stop. I cried for Jor, for Alastor, for Rosie and Sheba, but no one came.
Every pluck sent a pain so deep it rattled my bones. It was like a piece of wood being shoved down alongside my spine over and over again. It left a burning sensation and I barely had time to recover before he plucked more.
My screams turned to wails and my wails turned to sobs. I vomitted a few times from the pain.
I don't know if he stopped plucking after I fell unconscious from the pain and all the blood loss. I only remember waking up to a random woman wrapping my wings in gauze. It stung, but I almost couldn't feel it after all the pain I had just went through. My entire wing felt numb.
The woman left and I laid there shivering, surrounded by a pool of blood and white and brown feathers. Eventually a pair of guards walked in. They dragged me from the room and into a different, much darker one.
They let go of me, half gently putting me on the ground, then disappeared into the hall. The door closed and I plummeted into darkness. I laid there for a long while, waiting for the throbbing in my wings to fade. I cried some more.
I heard shuffling.
My head shot up and send a bolt of pain down my wings. "Who's there?" I called out. But no one answered. I called again. Still no answer. The shuffling went away.
It happened multiple times and the shuffling drew closer each time. I crawled away from it until I was in a corner, staring so intently into the darkness and wishing for night vision. I couldn't see anything but I could hear it. It kept getting closer but it never touched me. Who else was in this room with me?
The door suddenly opened and warm light filled the room. Not a single soul but my own was in the room. It had all been in my head.
The guard put a plate of bread and cheese on the floor. Then closed the door, engulfing me in darkness once again. I crawled towards the plate, careful of my wings, when I heard the shuffling again directly in front of me.
No, that wasn't my imagination.
I crawled back into the corner and shifted so my good wing served as a barrier. Whatever was there would touch my wing first, giving me more reaction time. I stayed on my knees on the hard, stone floor for as long as I could. Then shifted on my side.
Eventually I fell asleep. Then woke to the feeling of someone grabbing me. I punched nothing but air and screamed into the darkness. It was all in my head.
I had no notion of time. The guard brought the same exact meal with the same exact portions every time. The light in the hall was always the same. I tried counting but every time I neared five or six hundred, the shuffling would start again.
I didn't move from my corner except to lunge for the plate of food while there was still light and run back to the corner before the shuffling would scare me.
I begged for Alastor. I cried for Sheba. I longed for Rosie. And I wished for Jor. Anyone to take me away. Anyone to save me. Anyone to care.
But I was all alone.
Well—
More shuffling.
Maybe.
~*~
Lucifer walked across the hot, flat terrain with the orange sun on his back. In the distance, he could make out a few dark bleary shapes. Sheba walked silently beside him. He glanced at her a few times and she offered him a tight smile every time, then turned back to glare into the horizon.
He had never known Sheba until the Archivist. Yet from the few interactions he'd had with the panther hybrid, he could tell she was just as reserved. She had a quiet intensity about her but anyone could tell she cared deeply for her friends. He could only imagine the guilt she must be feeling over losing both the Archivist and Charlie, even if she wasn't technically 'on guard'.
His thoughts went back to Charlie. His nerves wouldn't settle as the shapes took forms and he could clearly make out his daughter. His hands gripped the top of his cane in a white-knuckle grip, causing them to sweat like crazy in the heat. He could feel sweat drip down his back, too, despite the sun having already disappeared benath the horizon.
Adam wore that horrid looking mask and his giant, gold, metal wings. Meanwhile Lucifer, below the average height, walked up with nothing but his elongated white hat. He didn't know who the scout was, only that they were holding Charlie too tightly.
"Good ol' Lucifer, how ya doing?" Adam greeted in his language. Then he switched to Common, "Oh wait, you're used to Common Tongue. My bad." He chuckled. He snapped his fingers at the scout and she shoved Charlie into Lucifer, nearly sending both of them to the ground.
He steadied Charlie and touched her face and shoulders. His eyes scanned for any obvious signs of abuse, but to his great relief, there were none. She still had her hands behind her back but Sheba moved away from her offense stance in front of them to cut the rope loose with her claws.
"You're welcome for returning her unharmed," Adam said with a heavy sigh. "No big deal."
"What do you want?" Lucifer questioned, turning to face him.
"Well~, since you asked..." He planted his hands on his hips and smiled down his nose at Lucifer. "I have a hundred-and-fifty mini television boxes. I want them around the city."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed. "What for?"
"That's not part of the deal." His lips twisted higher in an ugly grin. "Either let me air drop those televisions or I take Charlie back with us. Up to you."
"What are you trying to broadcast?"
"Man you really haven't changed have you, Lucifer buddy? This isn't how negotiations work."
Lucifer felt his daughter send a questioning look his way. He ignored it and instead took a protective step toward her, knowing he had no other choice. "Fine. But not by air drop. You can bring them halfway and my people will take them from there."
Adam rolled a piece of dirt between his fingers. "They all have tracking beacons. So we can see if they're being kept in a room. Or if they've been destroyed. No funny business. I want your people to see what we're doing."
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked. Everyone blinked in surprise at her.
"Just proving something," Adam answered simply. "You can call it propaganda. Your people are used to it by now with the Radio Demon and everything. Tell me, how's his chest doing?"
"What about the Archivist?" Sheba asked.
Adam's smile faded as he looked the hybrid up and down. "I don't speak animal."
Sheba bristled and Lucifer quickly stepped in between them. He asked, "What do you want in exchange for the Archivist?"
"She's not up for sale," Adam said. "The auction house is closed. But if you put those televisions around your city like I asked, then I'm willing to reconsider."
Silence hung in the air for several moments. The first deal was done, but Lucifer wanted to press for the Archivist's return. He stared at Adam's smiling face, simmering in helpless anger. Eventually, he turned to Sheba. "Take Charlie back. I'll catch up with you in a minute."
Her eyes narrowed at Adam as her ears bent back. "I'm not sure that's smart—"
"Sheba, please. I'll be fine. Take Charlie back." He held the hybrid's eyes for a long, intense, and pleading moment. Thankfully, she got the message. But Charlie didn't.
"I'm not going anywhere without you, dad." She crossed her arms. "Whatever you want to say, you can say in front of me."
"Charlie, now's not the time—"
"Now is never the time," she argued. "I was just kidnapped and traded back for ransom. Whatever's going on, I'm a part of it now. And clearly you've been a part of them before."
"Ooo, things just got a little hot," Adam fake-muttered to his scout. "Princess has a mind of her own."
"Charlie, please. I can tell you everything later."
"No, dad. You always say that. I'm in the middle of it and I deserve to know more."
Adam giggled behind his hand. "Yeah she's a big girl now, daddy."
Sheba's lips pulled back in a snarl but her feet remained planted where they were. Adam wouldn't even look at her. He crossed his arms and watched the royal pair.
Charlie stood a head taller than her father, but the look she suddenly gave him made her appear like his little girl again. "I know something's up. Please...just include me, dad. I can handle it."
Lucifer looked over his daughter's beautiful, tired face. Her hair was disheveled but still in its braid, and her eyes were still bright. But there was determination in there. Determination she got from her mother. It was like she was standing there with them, watching over them.
He let out a long sigh. "Alright. Alright," he muttered.
He faced Adam. "We both know you don't need an Archivist. So what do you want with her?"
"That's for me to know and you never to find out."
"What did you promise her brother?"
"That's for me to know and you never to find out."
"Then why take her?" Lucifer asked. Adam stayed annoyingly quiet. "To get back at Alastor for getting the world to hate you? Or for demoting you?"
"I'm still the leader of the most feared White Angels!" Adam snapped. "If anything I've been promoted!"
"Is that why they haven't crossed the ocean yet?" Lucifer noticed Adam's right eye twitch. "Your comms tower has been operational for two weeks now."
Adam's smile vanished. "How the fuck do you know that?"
It was Lucifer’s turn to smile. "That's for me to know and you never to find out."
Adam scoffed. "Whatever. I've got the Archivist and soon I'll have Pentagram city. That's all that matters."
"And that makes everything better for everyone, doesn’t it?" Lucifer's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Of course." Adam puffed out his chest, making his wings glimmer in the dwindling light. "We're stabilizing the world."
"You're pruning it."
Adam's lips curled in a wicked smile. "That's not the only thing I'm pruning."
"You think you're correcting the world," Lucifer kept going.
"I am."
“But you’re actually erasing it."
"Isn't that what the Archivists do? Hide and erase parts of history that are ugly? I'm doing the same thing."
"And that makes it acceptable?"
Adam sighed dramatically. "She was always going to be used, you know. By the White Angels. The hybrids. You." He looked Lucifer up and down. "That's just the nature of the Archivists."
"And that makes it acceptable?" Lucifer repeated.
"It makes it inevitable."
Adam studied Lucifer for a few heartbeats. His eyes flickered to Charlie, then back again. "Did you ever regret leaving us?"
Lucifer's eyes widened a fraction. But then he looked at his daughter. He looked at her rosy cheeks, her soft, her messy hair, and the twinkle in her eyes. He stared back at what was left of his wife, still living on proudly.
"Maybe once," he answered slowly. "But not anymore."
"How sentimental." Adam made a vomiting sound.
"You're running out of time and resources." Lucifer turned back to him. "You called purity a strength but it was never enough to sustain you. Now you're just trying to survive. Like the rest of us."
Adam crossed his arms. "You know you really did fall far. You used to understand classification meant survival of the fittest. You used to preach it. But now look at you."
"Now I understand dehumanization," Lucifer returned. "And the strength that comes from relying on different kinds of people."
Adam briefly looked at Sheba. "They're not people, Luci."
"They're more human than you'll ever be."
Adam turned away sharply and his wings sliced open. "Your city exists because I allow it to exist. And everything inside it, including that Archivist, can be reclaimed and purified." Adam met Lucifer's eyes over his shoulder, then they moved to Sheba. “The Archivist isn’t leverage. She's a demonstration."
Sheba lunged with a snarl but he was up in the air in seconds. His jet pack carried him to the clouds with his scout close behind.
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setting up a tiny detail in one chapter to pay it off in the next few chapters feels sooo devious like oooh i can't wait to write the small little reference here that 70% of readers will miss but 30% of readers will cheer for
What the hell happened to the energy around gender neutral bathrooms. Remember when we were fighting for all bathrooms to be gender neutral. But now we can barely argue that people can use the gendered bathroom of their choice. Maybe there's some single stall bathroom tucked away in a basement somewhere.
Maybe I am wrong, but I feel like, around the same time we were also pushing for more changing tables in bathrooms? Like put changing tables in all bathrooms, not just women's bathrooms?
But I feel like where this ended was now there are just *no* changing tables in bathrooms and instead just one "family" restroom that is also supposed to cover disabled people.
I encountered this while traveling at the airport recently. I needed a table in a bathroom to do some wound care, but neither of the gendered restrooms had changing tables.
So instead, I had to join the queue for the single family restroom which included: two families with multiple children under the age of five, two people with mobility devices, an airport employee who I think maybe needed to use the room for an injection as he had a little medical kit with him, and me. It took FOREVER and the whole time my bandage was soaked and itchy and stinky and nasty and I felt so bad for all the other folks in line who probably needed to actually use the bathroom. Oh and there was nothing in the bathroom to wipe down the changing table once I was in there 🙃
So yeah, let's get that energy back: ALL restrooms should be spacious, gender neutral, with changing tables.
HOLY SHIT GUYS, I WAS INSPIRED BY THIS POST TO TRY MAKE THE SONG AND YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I DRAGGED THE TRAINING AUDIO OVER THE BACKING TRACK AND IT LINED UP PERFECTLY
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I want a sitcom about a friend group or family wherein one of the main characters is a trans woman. I want her to be the most bubbly, kind, energetic character and the show to demonstrate over the episodes that this woman is the fucking glue that holds these people together. They love each other but there’s miscommunications and difficulties expressing themselves and well-meaning ideas that turn toxic. But you have this character who has had to build herself from nothing and is paying that joy she’s cultivated outward.
And then I want a flashback episode that takes place ten years before. And that trans woman is the saddest, numbest man with no light in her eyes. I want her future self to haunt that narrative like a fucking specter. Watching fights that she would have stopped and people she would have helped. It should be clear that when someone finds themselves and cultivates self-love it spills out to the people around them, too. And the relationships aren’t the same without that.
"erm! actually! I'm not comfortable calling people it/its! it just makes me uncomfortable I feel dirty and icky and mean! why not just use they/them? sending love!" doesn't feel good reading once. reading it 12000 times on 4 different posts? fucking explode. leave it/it's users alone. you really don't have to share that someones chosen pronouns makes you uncomfortable. you sound like a transphobe.
all i want for 2026 is that gigantic rancid AI bubble to finally burst in such a catastrophic way that the consequences will be so good and i'll never have to see another AI generated image ever again
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