(from left to right: Prince Adulationis of Pride, Prince Leviath of Envy, Prince Sakareth of Wrath, Prinxe Brolkoron of Sloth, Prince Azodos of Greed, Prinxe Nammon of Gluttony, and Prinxe Asmarath of Lust)

so i spent the past few days sketching out proper regular/default outfit styles for all my prinxes and rearranging them on a height chart!! i did also draw all of their wings (they all have three pairs, except adu) BUT their wings are so big and i do not have room for that </3 so ill probably post all their full sketches separately. later.

ANYWAYS. go bother them at their silly little askblog @pogchamps-of-cirxia. if u wanna know more abt vmv, check out @vampire-mythoverse!!

Makda grew very bored of nothing very fast, and issued a challenge to creir fellow Gods; crei bragged that neither Elair nor Oros could create a world any better than crei could. With creir challenge set, crei set about proving creir words, and began to make a world of creir own.

ok fuck u guys /lh

lucixiur and leviath have one last talk. this one's canon!

Prince Lucixiur of Pride (he/him), Prince Leviath of Envy (he/him), Merahi Azazel of Guide (ai/ain/air), Merahi Brachael of Combat (vae/vaer/vaers) // @vampire-mythoverse

@peepersotherstuff, @thegreatyin

Merahi Azazel of Guide steepled air fingers and looked down, across the field at the wounded Prince of Pride. Prince Lucixiur was a spitting mess of blood and fury, tail lashing, orange blood streaming down his arms and face and chest and leathered wings as the combat keruhiae surrounded him.

"Lucixiur of Eos' spawn, do you know why we are here?" Merahi Azazel spoke in Cirx, a high envy accent staining air angaelic voice.

Lucixiur dodged another keruhi's weapon, backing away with a frantic, steeled look in his eyes. Merahi Brachael, so small next to Azazel, sighed and began to cross the section of forest they had burned away, making vaer way towards the Cirxian Prince.

"I believe I have a hunch, yes," Lucixiur sneered, letting out a yelp as he dodged a lash of holy chain from a Lieutenant Keruhi.

Azazel hummed, before shaking air head and nonchalantly beckoning someone from the trees.

Prince Leviath of Envy, masked and dressed in green irachnix silks with not a hint of orange to them, gracefully made his way out of the trees, coming to a stop beside Azazel. "Lucixiur," he greeted in high envy Cirx, and though the dialect was naturally cold, Prince Leviath sounded frigid.

"Leviath?" Prince Lucixiur stopped, wide eyed and staring, and failed to dodge a gauntlet punch to the face from the other Lieutenant Keruhi of Combat. He stumbled, bringing a hand up to his cheek and dodging a glowing sword.

"Prince Leviath here has asked me to... relieve you of your duties," Azazel spoke, though despite air solemnity, there was a portentous gleam in air eyes. "I just simply couldn't pass up this opportunity."

"Leviath," Lucixiur spoke again, but his voice had changed. It was soft and broken, pleading, and Prince Leviath merely tilted his head. "Why would you consort with these filthy, rigid programs of Makda? Leviath, my love, why would you do this?"

"You know perfectly well why, Lucixiur," Prince Leviath spoke, his voice of Grieving Ice. As Lucixiur dodged another chain lash, his lips quirked up in a smile. "All I ever wanted was to live a happy life. I wanted to be fine. With you, because I wanted you. But you never wanted me, you wanted the idea of me."

"Shut up, you impudent, useless thing," the Prince of Pride snapped, and gave a pained scream as a glowing blade sliced through the leather of one of his wings. He stumbled, orange blood gushing from the torn flaps of skin, and held his injured wing close. "I thought we were fine, I thought you loved me, Levi!"

"I loved you," Prince Leviath snapped, dark jade feathered wings ruffling up in fury. He settled, letting out a deep breath. "I don't love you anymore, Lucixiur."

"Prince," the Prince of Pride breathed, holding his torn wing close and shaking.

"What was that?" Merahi Azazel asked, air voice hiding the slightest tremble of fury.

"I am a prince," Lucixiur whispered again, before letting out a vicious snarl and snapping. "You will call me as such, Leviath!"

"No," Prince Leviath spoke, the pleasant smile on his face widening into a sharpened grin. "I do not believe I will, Lucixiur."

Letting out an enraged scream, Lucixiur darted forward, breaking free of the keruhiae around him and bolting towards Leviath. Merahi Brachael, halfway across the field, raised vaer hand and summoned vaer axe. Closing vaer eyes, vae dodged out of Lucixiur's way and struck, slicing clean through his wings.

Lucixiur screamed, stumbling and falling to the burned, ashen ground. Dismissing vaer axe, Brachael summoned a sword, stepping forward and raising it above Lucixiur's back.

"Goodbye, Lucixiur," Prince Leviath murmured, his grin softening into pursed lips. "I will not miss you."

There can only be one prinxe per sin circle, or so the prince of pride (Prince Lucixiur) says. So now, you must fight your father to the death while the prinxes of the other six circles look on.

You wish you'd just stayed hidden away from the rest of the world.

-

Prompt: Secret Kisses

Pairing: rafurelis (rafurael/urelis)

Word Count: 812

vmv // @vampire-mythoverse

note: rafurael uses a neopronoun set (ae/aer/aer/aers/aerself), while urelis uses they/them.

(cw: cult mentality, internalized fear and guilt due to religious beliefs/worship, ask to tag, proceed with caution)

~~~~

The halls of the plane of Angaea were bright. They shimmered with holiness, with pure white purity and strength of unity. They were never completely silent, the soft murmuring of seraphs to their teams as they set out to do their jobs and the quiet rustling of feathers as wings flexed and readjusted themselves echoing through the halls.

The high seraphim of trial made aer way across the lobby of their great plane with ease. With aer six wings held high and aer arms crossed behind aer back, nobody would question where ae were going. And ae would keep it that way, as ae spoke to no one on aer journey.

Not a single angel thought to question aer. Not one of the hundreds in the lobby of Angaea bat an eye as Rafurael entered the mercy wing. Aer face was set, aer mask empty and blank, only the faint joy expected of being an angel on aer face.

Urelis was where they always were when Rafurael thought to come visit. Not that anyone had noticed that Rafurael visited often. The seraphim of Angaea were not to be questioned by the lower angels, of course, and so everything a seraphim did was normal behavior, important, but unimportant. So, nobody paid Rafurael any attention as ae made aer way over to the seraphim of mercy.

"Seraphim Urelis," ae spoke, aer right arm held across aer chest to aer left shoulder. Ae bowed, aer purple tinted wings spread just enough to show proper angaeic respect to another angel of aer rank. "Might we speak? There is something we must discuss."

Urelis looked up at aer, their eyes cracked just slightly open to see who had addressed them. It was so slight that unless one knew to look for it, they would miss it entirely, but when Urelis recognized Rafurael, the corners of their mouth twitched up.

"Certainly, Seraphim Rafurael," they responded, their voice soft and light, and their face a blank mask of faint, but inherent, angelic joy expected of each angel. They stood from their seat, and the seraphs in the room immediately lined up and filed out. They needed no prompting; the matters of the seraphim were for seraphim ears only.

Once the room was vacant and the chamber doors shut so that none could see or hear, Urelis stepped forward into Rafurael's embrace. They wrapped their arms around aer, and ae held them close, tucking their head into the crook of aer neck.

"I've missed you," Rafurael dared to whisper out loud, and Urelis huddled closer, leaving a hesitant, shy kiss on the side of aer neck. "I've missed you much more than you can ever imagine."

"And I you as well," Urelis whispered, looking up at Rafurael. They lifted a hand, cupping the other seraphim's cheek, and leaned up, gently pressing their mouth to aers.

Though the kiss was chaste, Rafurael knew it had kicked up familiar feelings of guilt in each of them, fear twisting them from the inside and stilling their hearts. Ae pulled away not long after, and purple eyes met soft white ones.

"Is it so much to wish," Urelis murmured, guilt shining in their eyes, "that I could love you without fearing what will happen to us if I do?"

"No," Rafurael whispered, with such force that it surprised them both. Ae spoke again, aer voice softer. "No, my love, it is not."

"Then," Urelis spoke slowly, low and quiet, "I wish I could love you without feeling as though I am betraying our God. I long so much to spend my time with you, to see you every second that I am able, to be with you without fear or worry that we are betraying Angaea."

Rafurael's heart stuttered in aer chest. Aer mind screamed at the words, shouting that their words were blasphemous, that Urelis was in dire need of correction. That if ae truly loved them, ae would turn them in to the prophet angels right then and there so the prophets could set them straight.

"I wish as well," Rafurael whispered, aer voice hollow and choked up. It became hard to speak, and ae silenced aer thoughts as Urelis wiped aer tears away. Ae let aer heart speak, instead. "I long to kiss you, to be with you. I care no longer for Angaea if it would not allow me to be with you."

Urelis' pale white eyes filled with shock, and Rafurael felt fear fill aer again as aer own words caught up to aer mind. They both should visit the prophets, they both were in dire need of correction, how could ae even think to leave Angaea behind like that-