| Full name | Zanalaeth Morningstar |
| Age & Birthday | 323 - 20.04 |
| Illnesses | ASPD, PTSD, ICD, Conduct Disorder (past), mania |
| Gender & Sexuality | Boyflux, he/they/it - Bisexual |
| Family | Lucifer (father), Lilith (mother), God (grandfather), Archangels (uncles) |
| Likes | Kiyoshi, violence, causing havoc, food, petty gods to make fun of, languages, unsolved scripts and books, candles |
| Backstory | Born of fire and accident, Zanalaeth Morningstar came screaming into existence in the burning depths of Hell—his birth an unintended consequence of one too many infernal indulgences between Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar, King and Queen of Hell. A royal heir not by design but by chaos, Zanalaeth entered the world with cracked horns, too many teeth, and more energy than the underworld knew how to contain. From the beginning, he was a handful: hyperactive, loud, impulsive, and just a little too obsessed with setting things on fire. His parents, though powerful, weren’t exactly hands-on caregivers. Lilith let him run wild, and Lucifer, irritated by the boy’s constant noise, mostly ignored him—until he couldn't. By his teenage centuries, Zanalaeth was known across the Rings of Hell as a walking hazard. He once accidentally triggered a volcanic chain reaction that nearly obliterated the Wrath Ring—just because he wanted to see what would happen if he threw demon-grade sulfur at a soul furnace. Lucifer’s response? Hang his only son by the neck for twenty years, just outside the gates of Pandemonium. The sentence wasn’t symbolic. His vocal cords snapped, his neck nearly severed, and his body was left as a morbid warning. He survived, of course—demons always do. But his voice has never been the same, and he’s got a jagged scar across his throat to remember it by. Despite the royal blood, Zanalaeth never really had a purpose. Being a prince of Hell is mostly politics, torture quotas, and pointless lectures from his father (which he despises). He’s an only child, with way too much power and absolutely no supervision. When he wasn’t eating screaming humans alive (his favorite snack), he was starting fights, blowing things up, or taunting angels just to get a reaction. (He really hates angels.) He is often bored out of his mind, so he decided to learn languages. He can understand almost every language, even the dead ones, fluently now. Zanalaeth has a twisted young adulthood with no rules, no purpose, and no end in sight. He may be the grandson of God, but that means nothing down here. Hell doesn’t care about divine blood—only power. |
| Full name | Kiyoshi-no-Mikoto (聖命) |
| Age & Birthday | 279 - 23.10 |
| Illnesses | C-PTSD, RAD, amnesia, OCD, survivor's guilt |
| Gender & Sexuality | Cis man, he/him - Pansexual |
| Family | Susanoo-no-Mikoto (father), unkown mother, Amaterasu Oumikami (aunt), Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto (uncle), many half-siblings |
| Likes | Fish, mythology, calligraphy, marine biology, his pet shark Miso |
| Backstory | In the celestial heights of Takama no Hara, where stars glimmer like prayers and the wind hums ancient hymns, a child unlike any other was born—Kiyoshi-no-Mikoto, the son of the tempestuous sea god Susanoo-no-Mikoto and a mortal woman of quiet grace. Demi-kami were rare—almost unheard of. Born with divine blood but bound by mortal frailty, Kiyoshi’s presence stirred awe and curiosity. He was named Kiyoshi, meaning holy, a reflection of both reverence and the delicate purity he embodied as a bridge between two realms. His earliest years in Heaven were gentle. Bathed in sacred light, surrounded by divine siblings and tutored by celestial mentors, Kiyoshi was beginning to blossom. But peace does not last forever in divine stories. At just five years old, Kiyoshi and his mother were kidnapped by demons from Yomi, the underworld—a realm of rot, pain, and forgotten souls. The descent into darkness was swift, and cruelty followed. His mother, unable to survive the torturous conditions, succumbed to starvation, her body left cruelly in Kiyoshi’s prison cell by the demons who fed on suffering. Thus began 50 years of horror. Kiyoshi’s mind fractured. His memories dissolved. He was kept in the dark—starved, beaten, assaulted, and forced to watch executions, his own reactions punished with further deprivation. He forgot his name, his family, and what warmth felt like. By the time his father Susanoo tore through the underworld to rescue him, Kiyoshi was a shell—fragile, frightened, and robbed of his childhood. Kiyoshi had a very, very hard time processing everything. He'd cry and react always exactly 2 minutes after something happened. He either cried or stared into your soul with that empty, sickly look. It took him 10 years to use his limbs properly, 7 to say a proper word, and over 30 years to accept affection (very selective, he only allowed it from Susanoo). He had to stay 40 years in the divine hospital in Takama ga Hara for him to function 'properly' again. He was fifty years late to school that other gods his age. He was enrolled in a school for gods with special or traumatic experiences. You stay 150 years in a normal school (which is normal for gods, dw), but you stay 200 years, at the LEAST, in that special school. |
The Celestial Gala was a big event where gods of great renown from every pantheon gathered every decade. Glittering starlight poured down on the divine palace floating in the void between the heavens—the Silver Sphere—where marble walls shimmered with sacred energy and every conversation held the weight of ancient history.
Kiyoshi-no-Mikoto sat stiffly with his nose buried in the Celestial Testament Trial Handbook. He traced the sacred characters with one finger, silently mouthing the lines on emotional mastery. His silver-white hair fluttered gently with the ethereal wind, and his sea-blue eyes were focused and determined.
Kiyoshi’s father, Susanoo-no-Mikoto, storm and sea god, sat nearby and in the middle of a debate about the leaks in Yomi’s borders with Lucifer Morningstar.
“Yomi’s borders are leaking, Morningstar. My people are trying their best to close it and fend off the escaped demons.” Susanoo said calmly.
“You think Yomi is under my watch? Yomi is your underworld, I only rule over Hell.” Lucifer shot back.
“Yomi is also Hell. I believe this is your doing.”
“My doing? Please, if I wanted to release Yomi’s demons, I would with pleasure. Sadly, I have other things to do. Such as making sure none of Hell’s rings explode.”
Kiyoshi had pushed the argument to the back of his mind, completely focused on the Handbook. Yet he did not know that behind him, chaos was stirring.
Zanalaeth Morningstar had just downed three hellfire wine glasses like it was water. Now, he was bored. He flapped his wings once, then tucked them in again with a sigh. He hated being here. Gods, with their polished manners and stiff robes, were exhausting. But the promise from his mother echoed in his mind:
“Survive the night without causing trouble, and you can skip your punishments for the next hundred years.”
That was enough motivation.
Zanalaeth scanned the room lazily. Odin and Zeus were trying to see who had the biggest ocean pet. He snorted. Then, his eyes fell on Kiyoshi. Demi-gods were very rare (not in Greek mythology, though, but we’re talking about Japanese mythology so it's different). It’s not an everyday thing you see one. Zanalaeth tilted his head.
Kiyoshi was kind of popular around both Heaven and Hell. Son of the storm god, kidnapped by demons, emotionally frozen… basically a walking myth.
So naturally, like any demon with common sense, Zanalaeth swaggered over to him, his boots clicking on the polished floor.
“Hey,” he said.
Kiyoshi looked up, curious. Then froze.
Horns, wings, claws, tail, red eyes. Demon. His breathing locked up, pupils shrank.
Kiyoshi’s body moved on its own, towards Susanoo. “Father,” he said with urgency, his voice trembling a bit. “There’s… there’s a demon…”
Susanoo put a hand on his son’s shoulder to ground him. “Demon?” Then his eyes flicked to Zanalaeth, who got the most deadly death stare ever.
“Zanalaeth, what did you do?” Lucifer’s voice broke through.
“Nothing, I swear! I only said ‘hi.’” Zanalaeth defended.
Yet Susanoo wasn’t having any of it. “You frightened my son, demon. Get away before I spray holy water on you.”
Zanalaeth looked horrified. Lucifer chuckled. Holy water was like acid to demons—it burned.
Kiyoshi didn’t speak. He couldn't. Not with that demon thing still standing there, wings twitching like a predator about to pounce.
But Zanalaeth just stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the trembling demi-kami.
Interesting.
Then, with a shrug, he turned and walked off, tail flicking behind him.
Kiyoshi’s heartbeat slowly returned to normal, though his mind still buzzed. He’d faced demons before—horrors from Yomi. But this one… why had his reaction been so visceral? (visceral = deep-rooted)
“Focus on studying, Kiyoshi,” Susanoo said, patting his back.
Kiyoshi sat up again, straightening his clothes. “Yes, Father.”
Yet that demon never left his mind.
The air felt charged. Not because of all the laughter and the drunk gods, but of the underlying tension. Zanalaeth sat near a dark-glass column, sipping from a wine goblet filled with something that was definitely not wine. He wasn’t bored anymore. And that was because of Kiyoshi.
The demi-kami sat rigid across the room, eyes darting toward the exits, hands curled in his sleeves like he was preparing to bolt. Every time their eyes accidentally met, Kiyoshi would snap his head away as if scorched. Zanalaeth kept looking.
There was something about Kiyoshi that seemed to pull Zanalaeth toward him. No one should feel this way about strangers, right? And yet it seemed like Kiyoshi’s presence was… familiar.
Meanwhile, Kiyoshi tried to focus on the Handbook. His vision kept blurring. That same unbearable feeling kept crawling up his spine every time the demon prince looked his way. Why couldn’t he breathe? Why was his heartbeat skipping like a war drum?
He closed the book and stood shakily.
Susanoo noticed immediately and was at his side in an instant, grabbing his arm. “You’re pale, son.”
“M-my apologies, Father… I need to leave,” Kiyoshi whispered.
Zanalaeth noticed and walked towards the two, frowning, “Are you o—”
Someone suddenly approached them. Zana backed off as the man stood between him and Kiyoshi. The man laid a hand on Kiyoshi’s shoulder. Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto. “Kiyoshi-kun, I fear you cannot.”
“Why?” Kiyoshi asked his uncle.
“It is time,” Tsukuyomi said softly.
Susanoo’s grip tightened on his son’s arm. “No.”
Zanalaeth stepped aside from behind Tsukuyomi’s tall figure and paused in front of Kiyoshi, head tilting slightly. “We’ve met before,” he said quietly. “Haven’t we…?”
Kiyoshi’s chest constricted. “No,” he breathed.
“Yes,” Tsukuyomi corrected, stepping between them now, gaze flicking between both young men. “Well, not entirely. Your souls are bound, which may have caused the familiarity.”
Kiyoshi’s eyes widened. Zanalaeth frowned. “The fuck does that mean?”
“You are soulbound,” Tsukuyomi said, with no drama. “Two souls, spun together by the Loom of Fate. A bond older than this Gala, older than your fathers’ kingdoms.”
Kiyoshi took a step back.
Lucifer’s voice broke through the silence, “What the fuck do you mean, ‘soulbound’? Zanalaeth is a demon. Seaweed is a god, it is impos—”
Tsukuyomi held up a hand “Silence. It is possible, though it is rare.”
Chaos began to hum around them, like a song being tuned far too tightly. Kiyoshi’s breath shook as he looked into Zanalaeth’s eyes—and for the first time he saw a flicker of something terrifying. Recognition.
The migraine hit Kiyoshi with full force. He stumbled back, clutching his head with one hand. He groaned, blinking fast. His eyes darted around. Voices were muffled. He felt a hand on his back and looked up to see a worried Susanoo.
Meanwhile, Zanalaeth felt like he was being ripped apart piece by piece. His wings flared, tail flicking, and his claws gripped his hair. He screeched from the top of his lungs, making a sound so high in Hz (hertz) that only Hellspawn could hear it.
Tsukuyomi hummed from the sidelines, “It seems that Kiyoshi-kun and Zanalaeth are experiencing the beginning of the soulbond. It usually starts with a migraine, depending on the person’s pain standard. I imagine Zanalaeth’s is quite high because he is a demon.”
Lucifer, who stood next to Tsukuyomi, scoffed. “Can’t you do something about this? Zan’s screeches are bursting my eardrums.”
“It’ll pass,” Tsukuyomi said sternly.
Gods turned their heads.
Susanoo stepped forward, sword already appearing at his hip. “Tsukuyomi, what’s happening?”
Tsukuyomi glanced at his brother, then at the suffering forms of the two soulbound.
“The bond is activating. This is only the first phase. The second phase would be—” Tsukuyomi flinched. A sigil big and bright enough to blind the ones unprepared. He looked at Lilith, “Clear the hall. Immediately.”
No one argued.
The air filled with energy. Tsukuyomi, Susanoo and Lucifer tensed, sensing it.
“Get back!” Tsukuyomi warned.
A blue-red sigil appeared on the floor. Not of any pantheon, not of any known tongue. It pulsed once and time locked. The hum of celestial laughter, the clatter of goblets, even the eternal music from the harpist-god in the corner, all ceased in a single breath.
Only two beings moved—barely. Kiyoshi, on his knees, shaking. Zanalaeth, slumped against a pillar, growling through gritted teeth.
Then two sparks burst from the center. One shimmered like sun on seawater, radiant and sharp. The other burned like the embers of a wrathful storm, twisting in on itself. They shot down from the sigil, twin comets, curving perfectly straight into their chests.
A new sigil formed on the skin above the heart. It etched and burned into the skin, twisting from form to form like a celestial seal and demonic glyph, until it settled on the same sigil that was on the floor.
Kiyoshi flinched the moment it touched his skin, tears rolling down his cheeks from the pain. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel every little line of the sigil searing into him.
He heard something.
A voice, filled with rage and agony.
“—What the fuck is going on?!”
Zanalaeth’s voice echoed through Kiyoshi’s mind.
Zanalaeth, in return, heard Kiyoshi.
“P-please make it stop…”
BOOM. The sigil exploded in a blinding light. Time resumed, Kiyoshi slumped and Zanalaeth collapsed.