#morningstar!reader

Appearance: Initially, i was gonna use Lilith's skin tone and give the Regent the same eyes as their mother. But then i remembered the lil' drabble where it's mentioned that Regent has ruby-like eyes. And i didn't like the way it looked with Lilith's skin palette. So, my Regent ended up looking like their dad as well. Lucifer really said "copy paste!" with both his kids.

Horns: i was torn between giving the Regent horns that would be a mix of Lucifer's and Lilith's horns (the top pair) and more lamb/sheep like, curved horns (the bottom pair). And then i remembered the existence of these guys:

So, the Regent has their 'bad-boy' goat horns on top, signifying their relation to the Devil man; and their sheep horns on the bottom, that tie to their inner innocent nature. It also kind of connects to their personality switch in Chapter 4, with more serious side and a more laid-back, humorous side. ALSO, the whole symbolism of goats being associated with the Devil, while sheep/lambs represent 'pure and innocent' :>

Outfit: No, those are not their hands, those are their gloves. I'm pretty sure it's obvious that the Regent has scars on their knuckles from what was said in Chapter 4. And I imagine they wouldn't want the scars to be seen so they wear gloves. As for the attire, their uniform is that of a Ringmaster, cause they're the current Master of the Pride Ring. But to not make their outfit look nearly identical to Lucifer's, I decided to invert it... kind of. In a way that Luci has black boots, white pants, white coat, and colorful vest; Regent wears the opposite — white boots, black pants, colorful coat, and black-and-white vest. I also realise that the outfit is NOT animation-friendly AT ALL, so i might simplify it in the future or make a second, simpler version of it.

The Staff: OMG THE STAFF!!! I admittedly was giving up by the time i got around to designing it from how i envisioned it. I feel like i could have done a better job at the rose part of it and make the crown more jagged, but maybe next time!

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you— letting his gaze travel from the tips of your wings to your chest. He doesn't notice the red drool glitching into existence on the corner of his mouth, but you do and swiftly bring your wing down to cover yourself.

"Can I help you? I'm a little busy here."

Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming. Right... You're actually sitting on the bed in front of him. He's not staring at a picture he can fantasize about without consequence. His eyes now dart around the room, noticing how ruffled your wings actually are and how much feathers are scattered around the room.

His screen brightens a tad in embarrassment, but he shoves that all down and tries to regain control of himself. Slapping his showman grin on, Vox locks eyes with you and desperately uses every last ounce of willpower to keep his eyes on your face.

He laughs off your question and teases you instead to get your mind off his earlier blunder, "Kinda sounds more like your struggling."

"Same thing." You roll your eyes at him and go back to reaching for the back of your wings— ignoring his presence in the room altogether. While he's completely fine just watching you do your thing (especially when you're shirtless), he has no idea what you're actually doing.

"What uh... What are you even doing?"

"I'm trying to preen my wings, but it's hard to reach the back to do them properly." You drop your arms and wing with a sigh, "I used to get help from my family but... Well, you already know."

Vox can't help the snort that escapes him. Yeah, he was keenly aware of how low your family actually was. Lilith up and left all of you, Lucifer has done fuck all for you the past few years and basically forced you to pick up all his work, and while Charlie may be... nice, she still left all the responsibilities for you to take care of while she worked on her delusional wish list.

Family matters aside, Vox hates seeing you look so defeated. Especially when the cause involves the family that clearly doesn't care enough about you. And your wings are so pretty, even when ruffled like this. It'd be a shame if you hid them away forever 'cause you couldn't care for them effectively.

"I can help?"

He spoke before he could even process how he wanted to fix your issue in the first place. While he doesn't exactly want to take back what he said, the look you give him is enough to have him scrambling to backtrack.

"I mean— if someones always done this for you I don't mind taking time— Uh, I'm not that busy anyway so—"

"Do you even know the first thing about preening wings?"

His confidence immediately comes back as he hears your retort and puffs out his chest, "I'm a walking search engine babe, anything I don't know I can find out in seconds."

You stare at him for a few seconds, brow raised unimpressed, but Vox doesn't let himself falter for a second time. When you finally look away from him and look down to smooth out your topmost feathers, your response is short and clipped.

"I'll be fine on my own."

His anxiety spikes for a moment at how lacklustre you sounded before he smooths himself out with pure logic. If your family were the people to help you before, not being able to do it yourself must be grating on your nerves. Any reminders of his deadbeat family would piss him off too. So, what if he just... replaced the memories for you?

Vox's grin widens at his thought and slowly brings his hands up to grasp your shoulders, "I get you want to separate yourself from your family as much as possible and be completely independent from them—"

"When did I say—"

"But you still have me! Val and Velvette to I suppose, but we have known each other forever!" He leans in closer, stopping right in front of your face and dragging a hand down your shoulder to thread through your feathers, "I wouldn't mind... filling in the void."

Your breaths mingle together. The short distance between the both of you send a shiver up Vox's spine. What he would give for you to lean in the rest of the way and put an end to this song and dance.

Suddenly you pull back, looking down and moving your wing away from his hand to his disappointment.

"I'll eventually get it done myself. You don't need to waste your time."

You sound so tired, he can't help the smirk that appears and grips your shoulders with both hands again. It's cute that you're thinking of his time and business, but really he'd rather be spending the whole day with you. VoxTek will last a day without him.

"C'mon, not everything I do is to benefit something! It can just be something we do, at least let me just this once? If I'm terrible at it we never have to do this again, and if I'm great you don't have to fumble around like a headless chicken for hours on end."

You sigh, and Vox is already celebrating in his head— knowing he's won you over.

"Fine."

"Great!" He doesn't hide the enthusiasm in his voice or his actions, not wasting a moment before he's jumping onto the bed behind you. "Now, what am I doing?"

"I thought you were a walking search engine?"

"I am!" He lets his claws run over your feathers, nearly losing himself at how soft they are, "But you surely have specifics. Can't imagine you have a normal routine with wings like this."

Vox hasn't met many with feathered wings, but none have looked as pretty as yours and he highly doubts they're as soft either. It may just be a perk of being a Morningstar, but you must do something special with them and he doesn't want to mess it up.

"You don't have to bother with any of that. Right now I just need the loose and broken feathers removed."

He snickers and starts scrutinizing the feathers more closely, "Any sensitive spots I should know about?"

"Nice try Vox."

"Worth a shot."

The next little while passes by in a comfortable silence— the longest Vox thinks he's been quiet in your presence in years. He fumbled through your feathers at the start, but quickly grew more confident in his motions when he knew which ones to look out for. He lets himself admire you as his hands start to move on autopilot, every twitch in your wing and flex of your back driving him deeper into desire.

The urge to drag a claw down your spine to see how you react grows with each passing second, so he tries to think of something to talk about to distract himself from following through.

"Y'know, we've known each other for decades and not once have you asked me for anything."

You shrug, "And I still haven't. You were the one practically begging to help me."

"That's the thing isn't it? I'm always the one searching for you, so tell me," Vox pauses his ministrations and rests his head right behind yours, his voice becoming edged with static, "Is there anything you want from me?"

The room grows warmer as he mindlessly plays with a feather and awaits your reply. This is the most forward he's been since he's allowed these feelings for you too fester under his circuitry. Surely this will finally be the one you pick up and throw back at him with your own.

Would you ask for a date? He'd take you anywhere you anywhere you wanted— whether that be a high end restaurant like Dante's Inferno or a simple picnic at a park. Would you skip the date and ask him to be your boyfriend— or even better, skip the pleasantries and ask him to marry you? Or have his advances worked too well and you'd just pull him into the sheets. The thought of making a complete mess of you excites him to no end, not just as royalty but as the one person who's stuck by him through everything. He'd make all of Pride bow to the both of you and utterly ruin you so well no one else would be able to—

"I already have everything I could ever need. Why would I ask anything of you?"

His entire world shatters.

You have... nothing to ask of him? Nothing? No sudden confessions, no wants to watch a movie and gorge on takeout? Hell, he'd even take an ask to help with your workload, but nothing? Absolutely nothing???

That's when memories start resurfacing like a tidal wave. Ones he's elected to wave off, excuse and ignore for the last few years.

Suddenly he's remembering all the missed calls and late replies— something you never used to slack on that he just chalked up to you getting more busy. He's remembering all the times you dropped by without a word or any prompting slowly become more sporadic until they eventually stopped altogether. He's remembering all the cheesy post-it notes and mystery snacks that showing up around his office. He's remembering needing to set up more and more meetings with you under "business" just to make sure you'd come over and not flake out for something else.

He's remembering a time where you used to be everywhere, and suddenly realizing you're barely in it now. It feels like you took the knife Vox didn't even know was deeply embedded in his chest and twisted it.

He thinks a bullet would've been kinder.

"W-well," his voice glitches, unable to stop it still trying to process his crumbling reality, "You're busy so o-often. I wouldn't mind help-ping out here and there to lighten-en the load."

He has his own shit to deal with, managing VoxTek with all of it's products and shows while corralling Val and Velvette from public outbursts, but hell he'd carve out whatever time necessary for you if asked. He'd do anything if it meant he got to spend even a second more with you— anything to get more than what he's finally realized you're currently giving him.

You sigh at his words and he can't tell if it's out of frustration or exhaustion. Either way he knew it wasn't positive and it was igniting his nerves further.

"All my work is to run Pride or for other sins Vox. Nothing you can possibly help with."

He's fumbling through your feathers again at this point— any sense of confidence he gained with your wings gone in the face of his sheer panic.

When did this get so hard? It's always been you and him against Hell since the moment he fell here, so what happened? When did spending time together only happen during business meetings? When did talking outside of that become a rarity? When did texting become wishing you had time to read the message?

When did you get so far away from him?

...

Was it Alastor?

The thought alone that fucking deer possibly had something to do with your sudden aversion makes his blood boil, but it adds up with his disappearing act doesn't it? This wasn't as big of a problem before he disappeared— at least he doesn't think so. God he hopes not. He'll have to ask Val and Velvette if they noticed any sudden distance from you—

"Vox."

He's abruptly pulled from his spiralling at your call. You stretch your wings, effectively taking his hands off of them aswell and start smoothing the last of them out yourself.

"I can handle my wings from here. You got all spots I couldn't reach and you're starting to seem..." You turn your head back enough to give him a once over, "Stressed. Thanks for the help though."

You give him a small smile, so small he nearly missed it and gone as soon as he noticed, but he latches onto that like it's his life support.

"Of course, anytime! I mean it!"

He knows he sounds desperate, and in any other situation he'd beat himself up over it and try to recover, but this is you he's talking to. How could he be anything less when he's now noticed the cavernous distance that's somehow come between you two?

He's quick to get up and leave the room, his mind already swirling with theories and plans as he makes a b-line to his control room. Despite the conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling around inside him, one stays at the forefront like a guiding force he knows will consume him until he either solves the problem or watches it erupt in his face.

When did you start to move on, and how can he fix it before it's too late? He won't let you become another Alastor— He can't let you become another Alastor.

Separating now is not an option.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✁━━━━━━━━━━━

So like

I can imagine Vox trying

Very desperately

To get a meeting with you, the elusive Morningstar who supposedly runs hell single handedly

Because like

Bro is not a fan of everyone else

So I assume he’s either trying to get you on his side or like. Overthrow you

One of the two!

So let’s say you

For some reason

Probably boredom tbh

Decide to agree to this meeting

And while you don’t agree with him

He realises that you’re like

Not annoying to be around?

Liek he could actually open up to you??

So even though the meeting falls through he like

Asks you to come by again sometime because he wants to talk to you again

And so begins a budding friendship :D

And liek, let’s be real

He’s still trying to take over heaven and possibly hell during all of this

Maybe that’s why you keep coming around

You’re trying to keep an eye on him and subtly stop his plans

Anyway

Imagine one day he has a slight malfunction

Maybe he overheated or something

It’s not something he can fix himself

And his usual mechanic(?) is out of town. Or they got murdered in the last extermination or they’re still regenerating from their last workplace injury

So you decide to offer your help!

You may not be the most technologically inclined but you can follow directions well enough

And Vox, for some reason, agrees

And liek

That takes a lot of trust, y’know?

He’s an overlord

And he’s literally allowing you to meddle with his inner workings

That’s about as physically vulnerable a guy can be in hell

He. Trusts you

I imagine that kinda scares him

Last time he trusted someone…

Didn’t go well

And again. This is hell, and he’s an overlord

Trust doesn’t grow on trees!

despite how hard he tries to sell it like it does

Still, it’s hard not to trust you

Even if Vox isn’t sure you won’t leave him at some point

You’ve stuck around thus far, and haven’t asked too much of him

I spent my entire life preparing for the throne. I studied the dark arts, walked through the infernos of Hell, and earned the loyalty of demons through power and fear alike. I was the true heir, the rightful ruler of Pandemonium. And yet, despite all my efforts, my Father- the Devil himself- chose to favor my half-sister, Sabrina. 

Sabrina. The half-mortal. The girl who spent most of her life in Greendale, pretending to be a mortal, only to return to Hell and lay claim to something that wasn’t hers. I had swallowed my rage when my Father entertained the idea of Sabrina ruling. I had played the dutiful daughter, waiting for the moment he would come to his senses. But that moment never came. Instead, things only got worse. 

Sabrina, in all her reckless, shellfish ways, doubled herself. Creating a second version of herself to live in Hell while the other remained in the moral realm. I was enraged. As if one Sabrina wasn’t enough, now there were two! And to make matters even more unbearable, Hell-Sabrina had the audacity to announce her engagement. To Caliban. My Caliban. 

“Tell me I’m hearing thing, Caliban.” I stood in the grand halls of Pandemonium, my voice cold as the deepest pits of Hell. My arms were crossed, nails digging into my skin as I glared at the man I had loved, trusted, and fought beside for years. The Prince of Hell stood before me, his golden skin illuminated by the fires surrounding them, his chiseled features marred by guilt. Caliban was many things, arrogant, stubborn, dangerously charming, but never a liar to me at least. 

“Y/N…” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” 

“Didn’t you?” My tone was sharp, accusatory. 

“You’re going to stand there and tell me you had no say in this? That you’re just going to go along with it?” Caliban sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sabrina thinks she can secure the throne this way. She believes our union will give her the legitimacy she needs.” I let out a bitter laugh. 

“Legitimacy?” I stepped closer, my presence burning like a wildfire. 

“And what about me, Caliban? What does that make me? The placeholder? The one you entertain until a Morningstar with my Father’s approval shows up?” His eyes darkened with something unreadable, something that made my stomach twist. 

“You know that’s not true.” 

“Do I?” He reached for me, but I stepped back, my heart pounding furiously against my ribs. I had sacrificed too much to be second place. I had given up any chance at a life beyond Hell, all for a throne that was rightfully mine. And yet, here I was, watching it slip through my fingers… 

I had played nice for long enough. When the time came for Hell-Sabrina’s union to be solidified, for her claim to be sealed in the eyes of Hell, I made my move. I found Sabrina’s double alone in her room, admiring herself in the grand mirror that stood against the black marble walls. 

“Enjoying yourself?” My voice was deceptively sweet as I stepped forward. Hell-Sabrina turned, her expression smug. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was wondering when you’d finally show up to congratulate me.” I tilted my head, my lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. 

“I don’t congratulate imposters.” Hell-Sabrina scoffed. 

“Imposter? Please. I’m still a Morningstar.” 

“No.” I said, stepping closer, my eyes burning with fury. 

“You’re a cheap imitation.” Hell-Sabrina barely had time to react before I struck. With the strength of a true Morningstar, I grabbed my sister by her throat, slamming her against the mirror with such force that cracks webbed through the glass. Sabrina gasped, clawing at my grip, her eyes wide with shock. 

“You think you can take what’s mine?” I hissed. 

“You think you can walk into my domain, steal my throne, my power, my-” I grit my teeth. 

“-my Caliban, and I would just sit back and accept it?” Sabrina struggled, her lips parting as if to cast a spell, but I was faster. A dagger of Hellfire materialized in my free hand and I plunged it straight into my sister’s chest. 

Sabrina let out a choked sound as the flames spread, consuming her from the inside out. I watched, my grip never wavering as the copy of my sister turned to ash before my eyes. The room fell silent. I slowly exhaled, watching the last embers fade into nothing. It was done. 

When I walked into the great hall of Pandemonium, the court of Hell fell into stunned silence. The scent of fire and blood clung to my skin, my hands still marked with remnants of Sabrina’s ashes. I strode forward, unwavering, unshaken, unchallenged. Caliban stood at the base of the throne, his gaze locked onto me. 

“What did you do?” I met his stare, unflinching. 

“What needed to be done.” A slow smirk ghosted his lips. There was no remorse in his eyes, only admiration. 

He bent the knee. 

And one by one, the demons of Hell followed. 

I turned, facing the throne, the seat of ultimate power. 

My throne. 

And with a satisfied smile, I took my rightful place as Queen of Hell. 

*Two Months later* 

Sabrina stormed into Pandemonium, fury rolling off her in waves. The moment our eyes met, I knew she had figured it out. Her power flared, but I didn’t so much as flinch. 

“What the Hell is going on!?” She snapped. I smiled, tilting my head slightly. 

“Oh, little sister.” I mused. 

“You’re a little late to the party.” Her eyes flickered to Caliban, standing loyally beside me, and then back to me. 

“Where is she?” I could barely hold back my smirk. I leaned forward, resting my chin on my palm, and let the words fall from my lips like a blade unsheathing. 

“Oh, you mean your other half?” I clicked my tongue. 

“She’s dead.” The horror that flashed across her face was delicious. 

“You-” 

“I killed her.” I said smoothly, watching as her rage grew. 

“You bitch!” She screamed, magic crackling from her fingertips as she lunged. I barely had to move before a wall of molten rock erupted between us- Caliban’s doing. 

I turned to him, smiling at his devotion. My King. My love. My partner. Sabrina’s voice was sharp with betrayal. 

“You’re side with her?” Caliban crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. 

“She’s the rightful Queen of Hell. She proved it.” Sabrina let out a bitter laugh. 

“She murdered me-” 

“A copy of you.” I corrected, rolling my eyes. 

“A useless, pathetic copy that thought she could steal my throne, my crown, and my King.” Caliban smirked at that, and my pride in him only grew. Sabrina shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“You think you can just take over, and my Father will allow this?” I raised a brow. 

“Our Father.” I corrected, my voice cold. 

“Funny how you only call him that when it suits you.” She ignored me, turning toward the doors. 

“Fine. Let’s see what he has to say about all this.” I watched her march away, knowing exactly how this would end. 

Lucifer appeared in a swirl of darkness and embers, his presence alone demanding silence and obedience. I did not bow. Sabrina, however, wasted no time. 

“Dad, you can’t let this happen! She killed my other half- she’s trying to take over Hell!” Dad merely chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming as he turned to me. 

“Tell me, my dear. Was it brutal?” A slow, satisfied smirk stretched across my lips. 

“Oh, you would’ve loved it!” He chuckled again, low and dark, before turning to Sabrina. 

“And why wouldn’t I allow it?” Sabrina’s jaw clenched. 

“Because you chose me!” 

“And I also said power must be taken, not given.” He reminded her. 

“Your sister understood that. You, on the other hand? You diluted your own strength by splitting yourself in two. That was your first mistake.” I could see the betrayal crash over her, the way her confidence wavered for just a moment. She hated this. She hated losing. 

Good.

“You see, sister.” I said, my voice as smooth as silk. 

“Our Father values power. And Power belongs to the one willing to do whatever it takes.” I leaned forward, locking eyes with her. 

“I did what needed to be done. And now?” I smiled. 

“I’m Queen.” Sabrina glared, her hands trembling with barely contained magic. But what could she do? Father had already chosen his true heir. And Caliban, her supposed fiancé, stood unwavering at my side. There was nothing left for her here. 

With a final glare, she turned on her heel and stormed out of Pandemonium. I watched her go, savoring every second. Victory had never tasted sweeter. Caliban moved closer, his warmth grounding me. His hand found the armrest beside me, a silent vow of loyalty. 

“You did it, love.” He murmured, his voice filled with pride. I turned to him, meeting his gaze, my heart thrumming with exhilaration. 

“Of course I did.” I took his hand, intertwining our fingers. This was just the beginning. 

“Now…” I said, my voice dripping with authority. 

“...let’s rebuild Hell- our way.” And as the fires of Pandemonium burned hotter than ever, I ruled from my throne with my King at my side, unchallenged and unstoppable. Hell never belonged to Sabrina. It had always belonged to me.