slhbsfhastwe



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    Hell is other people. Purgatory is being a twenty something weatherman with the memories of a being a media overlord who had the entirety of Hell wrapped around his finger.

    Sent back to his mortal life with a chance to "do it right this time", Vox has a problem. The Angels have installed a patch in his soul: the Pacifist Protocol. If he tries to kill a rival, poison a boss, or throw a punch, he is paralyzed by blinding agony.

    He cannot claw his way to the top if he can't use his claws. He needs a loophole.

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    29 Apr 2026

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    “I don’t know, it kinda makes sense?” Hunk suggested carefully, picking Lance’s legs up just enough to sit down beneath them and then allowing them to fall onto his lap. Hunk rubbed soothingly at Lance’s calves, the blue paladin having gone back to hiding his face in the cushions. “The witch wanted to teach Lance a lesson in truthfulness and if there’s anyone that Lance lies to the most, it’s Keith. I mean, he acts like he hates the guy when in reality he-”

    “Doesn’t.” Lance grit out, word slightly distorted and muffled from where his face currently was. He lifted his head, looking back at Hunk with a glare. “We don’t need to go into detail about it, Hunk.”

     

    (AKA that one fic where Lance is cursed to be honest to and about the person he lies to more than anyone else. Hijinks ensue.)

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    21 Apr 2026