For Soraka! Happy belated birthday!

Warning! Bible slashy stuff!


Title: Crazy?

"What?" Sanctimoni said, staring at the young man before him with a dumbfounded look.

"I said I'm not a glutton. I'm pregnant." Otiumus grounded out. "That was not the sin I came here to talk about."

"Now, you shouldn't lie. Especially such an obvious one." San said.

"It's not a lie! It's how I was born! I can't help it that my toes and fingers would do that!" Otiumus snapped. "Now, are you going to answer my questions or not? Mom won't let the angels tell me the morals and I don't want my baby to be so naive."

San just stared at the man. He then pulled a card out of his pocket and held it out to him. "Son, I think you might want to talk to this man. Everyone at the police station says he's very good."

"Hm?" Otiumus took the card and read it over. Then he glared at San. "For crying out loud! I don't need a therapist!" He ripped the card in half. "Now are you going to help me or not?!"

"Son, I really thi-" San started.

"Enough!" Otiumus stood up and walked to the door. "If you don't want to help, fine! Now I'm getting mayo and waffle sandwich!" He shouted, opening the door, storming out, and slamming the door behind him.

San stared at the door for a few moments and sighed. "And people say I'm crazy?"









Title: The Living Do Not Fall.

Otiumus curled up against Soraka, head using his chest as a pillow.

Soraka gently stroked his hair, watching him sleep. He's very cute when he sleeps. He thought.

"Hm... Soraka..." Otiumus murmured sleepily, snuggling closer.

Soraka smiled. However, there was evil in the smile. "One day, you will be mine, Otiumus. Mine and only mine." Soraka whispered with a possessive tone.

Otiumus merely moved closer, enjoying the warmth Soraka provided.

Soraka looked down at Otiumus' foot that moved from under the blanket. Toes blackened to show half his heritage. It was how the sin showed itself in the boy. Soraka gently lifted up one of Otiumus’ hands and snapped, the glove vanishing from his hand.

“These are still so strong.” Soraka murmured, staring at the snow-white stained fingertips. He gently touched one of the fingertips with the palm or his hand and hissed, quickly pulling his hand away. “Still so pure.” He snapped his fingers, returning the glove to cover the dangerous fingertips before looking back at Otiumus.

“How do you stay pure, little Anti-Christ?” He asked in a whisper. “You hate. You have pride. You lust for your father and the devil himself and yet you refuse to fall.” He gently stroked his cheek, watching as his lips moved slightly with his breathing.

Then Soraka thought of something.

Perhaps that’s why Otiumus didn’t fall.

He was still alive.

Otiumus lived in heaven, but he was alive. He wasn’t dead like the angels or demons.

“Is that why you don’t fall my little Anti-Christ? Because you’re still alive and can repent?” Soraka whispered and an evil look spread across his face.

Soraka reached over to the nightstand, pulling a drawer open. He nibbled lightly on Otiumus’ neck. “Oti. Oti. Time to get up.” He purred into his ear, his tone louder than it had been previously.

“Hmmm…” Otiumus mumbled, still keeping his eyes closed.

Soraka smirked before whispering an interesting idea into Otiumus’ ear.

Otiumus’ eyes opened halfway, though they seemed a bit dark. “Must you do that when I’m sleeping?”

Soraka smirked. “You just look to irresistible when you sleep, Oti.” He said.

Otiumus smiles slightly. “Well…I suppose I can go another round now.” He said, his eyes dark. “That idea does make some pleasant images.”

“Good.” Soraka purred before he pulled his hand out of the drawer and quickly plunging a dagger into Otiumus’ back, through his heart.

Otiumus gasped, eyes wide. “Soraka…?” He said questioningly before his eyes glazed over.

Soraka’s evil look returned as he pulled out the dagger stained crimson. “Now you shall come to where you belong, my little Anti-Christ and no repenting and purifying can save you anymore.”