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─ ⋅ Forgive me Yahweh, for I am a Sinner ⋅ ─

Summary; The Priest who bound Abaddon is now struggling with 'sin' as he begins to have a relapse into un-holy thoughts as he begins to become a little too fond of the Undervale's new Owner, Nathan, who has taken to caring for the demon who once possessed the priests own son. Meanwhile, Abaddon is forced to come to terms with the idea of sharing his father with the very man who bound him to the mortal plane, and stripped his first (and only) of his humanity by permanently binding them together || AKA: The Priest is having gay thoughts for Nathan, and Abaddon co-piolets his only friends body while trying to fend off the priest from "courting" his dad.

| Cut offs and dividers are morse code - Enjoy decoding :)

⋅ ─ Prologue; Father

Summary; A look into how the Priest has been living, just as a short exposition/transition into the fic…

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Abram was growing tired as he spent his time wandering the forest, he’d found that the Undervale had taken up a new, more living, residence he however had yet to see the actual man - he’d only heard the voice, and seen the lights bright up in the dusk. He’d been listening to the voice, it was almost a guilty pleasure at this point as his, admittedly very dead, body warmed at the soft tone…

It was strange, he’d felt something similar to this when he met a man at the parish all those years ago, back when he was alive, the man’s name was Ezekiel and while they couldn’t say the words, their eyes did it for them as they gazed for moments too long and stayed behind at the church for hours over time. He’d once grazed the lips of the younger man with his own, and for the first time he felt truly understanding of why the action was in fact one of warmth, and love rather than something he’d forever find to be a custom foreign to his mind and body.

Now, here he was while his body may be less corporal, and his corpse being cold to the touch the warmth he felt was like no other, a strong sense of longing over to the voice that beckoned out…

“Abaddon, Bud, where are you?”

Yet here he was frozen, longing now for a voice he had not know to be beckoning out for the foul demon who was once his son, the evil engulfing over the sweetness that was, now making Abram only see red. As he may not be the holiest of men, he was one to know he was much holier than the demon that he held a grudge to, he was holy enough to know the torment demon’s cause…

Fic Playlist - Spotify

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⋅ ─ Chapter 1; Cain, and Abel

Summary; Abaddon, and Isaiah have some fun colouring while Nathan makes Dinner when an unexpected guest arrives…

Abaddon had been bored for the last few hours, Nathan was busy with ‘hotel things’ and now was making dinner which Abaddon knew he couldn’t interrupt as the dinner was for him too. Isaiah was asleep in the back of their mindscape leaving Abaddon truly on his own…

Luckily, he remembered that the week prior dad had gifted him some art supplies, and said that any good works that he does the boy should show off to him and it would go on the fridge. The whole idea reminded Abaddon of the war trophies people had back in hell - and how he had been so close to getting one before he was trapped into this form.

Isaiah woke up around half an hour later as Abaddon was onto his second drawing, the demon doodling his ‘true form’ as a practice due to the 'recently' developed awareness of his inability to see colour despite the act that Isaiah could see them just fine - Abaddon rightfully declared this to be very unfair.

“What are you doing?” Isaiah’s voice echoed through their mind,

“Practicing my drawing, now may you assist me with the colours that I apparently can not see” Abaddon said, point blank, clearly still a little annoyed at the idea of him being unable to see colours the way Isaiah and dad could.

“OK, what are we drawing?”

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Nathan’s voice hummed through the walls of the Undervale, the gentle tone of a song being mumbled and hummed reverberated against the kitchen’s cold walls, as the man began to cut up some tomatoes making homemade pasta sauce. Nathan normally wouldn’t be making things from scratch, however with the shops being far away, and it being too late to haul Abaddon into his coat and shoes Nathan figured he would just do so. It wasn’t like he would be making the entire dish from scratch, just the pasta sauce as he neglected to get some the day prior while out.

As he turned on the blender, he couldn’t help but feel as if eyes were on him… was Abaddon in the vents again? Once the blender had finished its job, he went out to the main living area to check on his son, it was nice to be able to call Abaddon his son - the demon had only just begun to call him ‘father’ two or so months prior, and it’d given Nathan a boost of life he wasn’t consciously aware he needed.

“Abaddon?” he questioned, wondering where the boy may have been - until he locked his eyes on the sight of the small boy doodling something as he sat on the floor, his paper laid flat on the coffee table while the TV played the kids channel Nathan had left on for him.

“Yes, Father?”

“Nothing, bud, just making sure you were ok,” Nathan couldn’t help but smile, shaking the feeling of eyes on him as he looked at the simple sight in front of him, it was heart-warming to see Abaddon let his guard down and just be a kid.

As much as the little demon protested against the notion when Nathan first found him, a small error in a spell Abaddon was using to try and regain a small portion of his powers back Nathan actually spoke with an elder demon who told him all about the fact that Abaddon was not just trapped in the body of a child - he was a child. The demon even kindly explained a demon to human years ratio once they realised how embarrassed Abaddon was (Nathan was pretty sure the demon fed off of embarrassment with how much he was spilling about younger demons).

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Abram had finally worked up the courage, he was going to the hotel, he was going to put a face to the voice, and he was going to try and get his son back. He walked through the door (literally), and made his way over to the desk - waiting as he didn’t want to be rude.

The first to find him was Abaddon who had gone into the main area to look for a crayon he may have dropped in there earlier… the young boy paused, froze, and yelled.

“DAD” he called out, and Abram began to worry - was the demon gone, and this was his son calling for him or was the demon calling for the owner… Had he manipulated the man into believing he was a normal child?

“Abaddon? What is it? What is wrong?”

“The- he,” Abaddon was unable to verbalise it, he didn’t know what to do. For the love of hell, he was a demon, a powerful prince of the cobras, why couldn’t this stupid body just work…

“Oh! Is that…” Nathan asked, making a face, and Abaddon just nodded,

“Ok, hello sir, I’m aware you, and Abaddon have a… past so to speak”

“Yes, that demon corrupted and tried to kill my son”

“I did not! Isaiah is a friend; we have an alliance I would not kill him!” Abaddon yelled, Isaiah’s eyes welling with tears from Abaddon’s anger,

“Ok, please calm down, Abby, it’s ok, please” Nathan tried to comfort his son, “can you please not antagonise him, I know that Abby isn’t the most… normal but he is still a kid, and this is a lot for him, ok? I will try explain but first I need to plate dinner,”

“I apologies for making you stressed, sir, however I will not apologise to the demon”

“Ok, that’s fair, Abaddon lets go sit down, ok?”

“Ok…”

At the dinner table, Nathan plated out the food, giving Abaddon a large portion to help the boy feel better as he did so, and he sat next to his son with the priest across from them…

“Ok, now, I am going to speak, and explain things - Abaddon correct me if I get any demon parts wrong, and Father, you just listen, please?”

Both of them nodded, and Nathan began…

He explained how Abaddon is actually just a kid, and tried his best to explain demonic deals and possession while Abaddon added in small details Nathan had missed. The priest began to slightly understand as he saw how much Nathan cared for the boy - for his boy, and for the boy that possessed his son.

Afterwards, Abaddon decided that it was probably time to explain how Isaiah is actually still here, and how they just co-piloted the body…

“Thank you for sharing that, Abaddon, can you make sure to say who is piloting and when…”

“Yes, it is I at the moment, however, Isaiah is the one who refers to you as ‘Papa’”

“Yeah, I did think that it was strange that you changed up whenever you changed what you refered to me as, but I just put it down to trauma…”

“Hm, that is half true”

Abram just sat there, stunned, this man had been taking care of his son for however long and he had no idea… and he had hurt what was really just a child. Sure, the child was a demon however he was even younger than his son. The demon was only around 6 or 7… his son was nearly 8 when he was possessed, the demon was… younger? And he had been almost, tamed by the man his own son was now calling ‘Papa’.

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⋅ ─ Chapter 2; And for Eve's children

Summary; Isaiah speaks with his father 

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Day’s pass, and Abram is yet to return to his usual cave-like area that he tends to occupy by himself, despite saying each passing day that he’d return there… soon, he was yet to. Nathan seemed to enjoy the company, and Abram did as well so who was he to leave when they had a decent thing going…?

He fails to look into the eyes of the demon - and subsequently fails to recognise his son still ‘trapped’ within, he was engulfed in a grief he felt for a boy that had not died, a boy who had not even left. His son was right there, yet he couldn’t see that thing as his son - not anymore.

The whole experience felt surreal as he glided through the past few days keeping Nathan company, comforting the man when he cried alone after Abaddon was at rest in his own room - Nathan telling him that this was the real reason as to why he made Abaddon have a, as he put it, ‘bedtime’. It saddened the priest as he could not do anything to help - his flesh was long gone, and his bones buried under the hotel… He prayed each night, after Nathan fell to sleep, that he may help, and that Nathan may begin to see the worlds beauty - the way he used to.

Nathan had begun taking some strange small things - he’d called them ‘pills’, and Abram found out that they were a from of medication, yet Nathan had not specified what the ailment was and why he neglected to take them until now. Abram worried for the man, and wished he could look it up - the hotel had an extensive library, there must be a medicinal section, or at the very least a singular book.

Abram began his search, if he found the medical books, he could ask Nathan to turn the pages… or as Isaiah, they used to read together, it was a nice thing they did together. Abram truly missed his son, he missed reading by candle light before they returned to their respective chambers, he missed how the boy always smiled up at him - even on the days where the world seemed dim.

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Nathan’s box device had been making noise for the past five minuets now, and the man seemed to be almost humming along - the noise itself did sound like a melody, yet was nothing like the melodies that Abram was used to…

“I am not the only traveller who has not repaid his debt”

Nathan hummed as the voice sung from the box, Nathan himself was mumbling lyrics as he cut strawberries up into small pieces.

“I've been searching for a trail to follow again; Take me back to the night we met”

The song was slow, and soft as Nathan began to slightly sway as he moved between cutting the strawberries and carefully sliding them into the large pot… Abram couldn’t help but stare, unable to take his eyes off the sight - holding his non-existent breath, and then Nathan began to sing. Ever so quietly, his voice began to sing alongside the melody.

“I had all and then most of you - Some and now none of you”

It was soothing…

“Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met”

He began to hum again, as the melody slowed, and finished.

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Isaiah was torn, he didn’t know what to do… should be approach his father or wait for his father to approach him? He didn’t want to cause any upset, because that would also make papa sad if his father were to leave, and their papa had just started to seem happier, he didn’t want to be the one to ruin that. Yet, he didn’t want to feel like a bad son to his father, but would that make him a bad son to papa if it went wrong…

Then he’d be a bad son to both. He couldn’t do that - he needed to stay with papa, he didn’t want to be alone, not again… even if Abaddon was here now it wasn’t the same. He needed one of his parents, and right now, he just wanted his papa.

He left for the kitchen, not wanting to think of this any further, and now just craving some food - Abaddon was asleep, so being alone meant stuck in his own thoughts and that was bad. Especially now… he couldn’t start this again, he couldn’t go back to being weak - it was unbecoming of him, and he was stronger than that.

“Papa” he asked, yawning, before realising both his papa and father were there, talking.

“Hey kiddo, what up? Hungry?” Nathan asked, his tone was his usually sweet one - not as happy as it had been the past few days, just his usual, which made Isaiah wonder what the two were talking about.

“Mhm, may I have some of the- the… I don’t know the word” he admitted with a mumble, annoyed at himself for forgetting, “the nice thing in the pot, with a spoon” he tried to describe as Nathan scrunched up his face before realising,

“Oh! Yogurt?”

“Yes!” Isaiah smiled, glad that his papa always seemed to know what he meant,

“Alrighty, sit down I’ll grab some”

“Ok, thank thee” he smiled, “oh, no, erm… thank you” he corrected, Nathan had been teaching both him and Abaddon more modern English as to not reveal themselves to the guests or the towns people when Nathan had to take a trip into the local town for more yogurt and fruit loops.

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Abram, after his talk with Nathan, decided it was time to actually speak with his son, he needed to. He was a father, that didn’t stop at death, and it shouldn’t stop at demonic possession either… maybe. Abram was still very unsure of this but after a thumbs up from Nathan he folded - now or never (as Nathan had said more than once when trying to convince him).

“Isaiah…” he began as Nathan left the room to feed Jessica… who that was Abram had no idea, but Isaiah seemed to buy the excuse as normal.

“…Yes, father” the boy in front of him hesitated, and stopped eating for a moment as Abram began to think of the right words,

“I believe that I- no that you are in need of an apology, and that I am the one who is needing to express such a gesture to you. However, I must admit that this is hard, and that I don’t really understand why such an apology is necessary, but I would like to learn as to why you have done this… or did do it…” he sighed, hoping that would suffice for an opener, and Isaiah seemed to be shocked - he wasn’t sure what he should say, however he did know that his father was speaking truthfully, from the heart.

“I…” he sighed again, “I do truly care for you, son, and I” his voice broke as tears began to threaten his tear ducts, while he previously thought it to be impossible to cry as a ghost - here he was, showing that very weakness to his son.

“I just wish I understood… I just- I want… the best” the tears now flowed down his un-dead form, coming from what was once his eyes in a flood-like front, “for you, I don’t want you to fall, I don’t- I don’t want you to suffer… not like I”  

The night we met - SPOTIFY

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⋅ ─ Chapter 3; Baby my body… constantly betrays me

Summary; Abram has a less than holy dream about Nathan…

Calloused, steady hands lifted Nathan’s jumper, Abram slowly felt the soft skin underneath the layers, the feeling intoxicating as he slowly let his head down to kiss the man’s torso - needy kisses slowly escalating to slight nibbles onto Nathan’s chest.

Abram buried his face into Nathan’s neck as he slowly begins to further grip the man’s waist while kissing his neck; he slowly ran his tongue over the bite mark he’d created a moment prior as Nathan cried out his name… Nathan’s hand finding his way to the large hole in Abram’s own torso, feeling the inside of the man, caressing, as the innards of Abram twitched, making the man himself shiver.

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Abram awoke in a jolt, a cold sweat falling down his forehead as he realised his trousers felt tight, as he remembered the breathy tone of Nathan in the dream… he swallowed, a salty taste manifesting on his lips as he thought back to the dream as a whole.

His eyes began to well, for all of his years as a ghost he’d never cried until the conversation with Isaiah, and now here he was crying once more - it was the most he’d shown any form for emotion at all since his son was taken from him…

Tears began to truly stream down his face as he wiped them away, telling himself it was just sweat from the heat… it’s only sweat; its sweat now. He’d felt this before… the guilt, the betrayal from himself - how he’d felt as if he’d been possessed by a spirit. How he’d tried to convince himself that’s what was the truth, not wanting to confess how he’d done so on his own volition - the guilt felt all consuming; sinful. He’d, yet again, done this to himself…

The metallic taste on his tongue that never truly leaves begins to feel overpowered by the salty taste of tears flooding down his face uncontrollably, dripping onto his lips like tiny flicks of assault on enemy lines.

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After that Abram left.
He retreated back to the under-cave of the cliffside he fell from, and began to pray for forgiveness, and to forget - forget about Nathan, forget about everything, just live in the delusion of his boy being safe in heaven, and he to be punished by [+++] down here stuck between planes of existence, waiting for something. Anything.

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…

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The struggle, and tussle of the two men fighting against the clothes on their selves. Perfectly in contrast with the way each of their bodies surrender themselves; pure reconciliation of their souls to their being as they merge themselves together. Nathan’s body trembling under the others as both move in sync, groaning into the others mouth as they pull each other closer - daring to merge into one.

“Please” a small breath came from Nathans lips, a silent prayer - perfection taken human form, and Abram realises that this couldn’t possibly be a sin… not when it felt so perfect. Not when the man holding onto him looked so gorgeous; how could this be a sin when desire merged into worship.

The man underneath him looking as if he was sculpted by [+++]’s own hands, and as the priest himself taught - perfection was to be worshiped, and if worshiping Nathan involved some heavier petting, then who was he to argue...