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belladonazeppole · 1 month

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The Many Suitors of Miss Fortune

"I fucking knew it!" Adam yelled while pointing at Husk, this asshole reborn as a sinner and didn't took him long enough to come to the hotel asking for a place to stay since it look that lot of sinners could recognizr him and they weren't happy.

Charlie, the bleeding heart that she had, accept him even if she wasn't excited of him be here but she believe that everybody deserve redemption even if that person was Adam who took a liking on Husk.

"You almost convince me that you were a dude!" For some reason Adam believe that Husk is a woman. Maybe it was his chest fur since Angel gave him a shampo that gave Husk more volume or maybe Adam is into woman with deep voices or he's just a fucking moron. "You look so hot that I can get over you having the bitchest personality in this dump."

"I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD YOU CAN'T BE THIS FUCKING STUPID! " Husk yelled angrily at Adam, he has this argument to many times and just fially he succed in making him see reason in that thick skull of his."I'M JUST IN DRAG!"

The fact that he comes from Adam just makes him lose hope.

Sadly he can't make this moron see reason but he was right in one thing, he look really good. Husk has to congratulate Angel for making his grumpy old ass look this great. Husk was wearing a golden-yellow backless dress with a slip on the side, golden heels to match, a short wig that was the same color that his fur. It make Husk remember his youth when he do some drag as "Lady Luck" but that was when he was alive.

"As crude and imbecile Adam can be, he is right for once, you look quite wonderful tonight, my dear Husker." Said Alastor while spawning out nowhere in the stool of the bar while glaring at Husk. That was actually kinda sweet from Alastor since after their deal was broken their relationship was.... weird. Alastor sometimes tried to treat still like his pet but now Husk could actually refuse.

Alastor still was a bitch in deer clothing but maybe they can move on from their owner/pet relationship, maybe even making Alastor see Husk as an actual person and not his cat.

"Thanks, Al. That—

"Your welcome! But I do have a problem while the dress fits you like a glove the color just don't see like the right one." He squints his eyes while looking at him up and down to then snapping his fingers making the dress changing from golden-yellow to red, "There! It isn't better? Red was always a color that look better on you, my friend."

Or maybe not.

"No thanks. This color fits me way better than red." He said with a smug smile while snaping his fingers and, return the dress from Alastor signature red to his original golden-yellow, which make one of Alastor's ears twitch.

"Just ignore them you can't deal with stupid or batshit crazy." Said Angel while not giving Adam or Alastor much of a thought, the first just flip him in return while the latter strains his smile, "Now give me a spin! I want to see all my hard work before your date ravish you!"

"DATE WITH FUCKING WHO?" Adam yelled now angry knowing that the hottie that he was trying to bang was gonna be bang for somebody else.

"Husker!?" Alastor was shocked that his former (pet) associate was having date he believe that he and Angel were going to one of their silly "going out" but that somebody was having interest in his oldest... friend. It make Alastor feel angry and possesive. Meanwhile, Husk just rolls his eyes and ignore the outburst of these dumbass but still does what his friend ask him, after all Angel did help him and looking like this-

"This is just a first date, Angel."

"Just do what I'll do."

"I won't do anal in the first date." He cringes at bit at the sound of radio interference but refuse to giving Alastor the attention, "Buuh you whore!" Angel said jokingly while Husk just snorted at him.

"There you are!" A new voice make himself know, that was coming from the TV, it was Vox, who succed in coming out of the TV before Alastor could destroy it. "Fuck you old fossil!!" He yell while giving the finger to the radio demon.

Ever since Vox saw Alastor defeat agaisnt Adam he become more bold in entering to the hotel to mock the other overlord and old rival much to everybody else annoyance. Even fake dating Husk to have more info but the dumbass become more invested in Husk.

He may become Husk unofficial sugar daddy.

They don't even fuck.

Vox just gaves Husk money like an idiot for doing nothing.

Again Vox is a moron.

"Are you gonna fuck a fucking TV instead of having me? The Dickmaster?" Adam asked in disbelieve, fuck he fall really hard in this one. "He looks soo desperate."

"Inded and needy." Alastor glare harder at Vox, "I would expect that you have a better taste than this, Husker." At hint of dissapointment was in Alastor voice. Vox, for the first time, didn't put a lot of mind on them, "And you two are better?" He asked while crossing his arms to them point to Adam, "You! A broke fallen angel that is so fucking desperate that come to the place that tried to destroy in the first place!" Now pointing at Alastor, "And you! A coward who escape in battle and treat him like a pet at best!"

Now looking smug, "While I'm a powerful overlord that has tons of money and can make any of his whishes reality."

"I mean he isn't wrong."

"True, but Husk has a date with somebody waaayy better than any of you guys."

"WHO?" The three of them ask in anger.

"Hoo Mama!"

The three sinners slowly begin to turn around to see Lucifer the King of Hell with a bottle of apple cider and his mouth wide open at the sight of Husk, so he was the date.

That motherfucker.

Lucifer seeing that there were more people watching him pulled himself together as best he could, failure of course, "I mean…uh- You look beautiful tonight Hu- I mean Miss Fortune, yes, that color suits you excellently." He said hurriedly as he handed the bottle of apple cider to Husk who only smiled at his reaction.

He hands the bottle to Angel, "Thanks, Duckie." He laughs a little as the redness in his cheeks appears, "But you have Angel to thank, he's the one who made my geezer self look this awesome."

"Uuhhh, thank you Angel." He said a little awkward as with the use of his magic made another bottle appear, "A thank you for making Husk look amazing…I mean more! More amazing than you normally look, you always look good but now? I almost fainted…"

He really was Charlie's father.

The same verbal diarrhea when they're nervous.

It was adorable if he was honest.

"I understand you look amazing today too, Duckie." He said once again using Lucifer's nickname which only made him smile more and more relaxed, "I'll wait for you outside."

"Thanks, Short King" Said Angel with the bottle in his hand and leaving to his room, "Have a good fuck you two!" He just waves his hand a bit awkwardly, "Don't worry I'll make sure Husk has a night he won't forget."

He was ready to leave until he sees the three sinners looking at him with daggers in their eyes, his awkward posture changes to an arrogant one while he flashes them the finger, "You three want to be me so badly right now."

"Adam, looks like third time's the charm after all. Alfred I'm sorry for not being able to stay for a conversation but I have date right now…. and who are you?" He said the last while pointing at Vox but shakes his head nonchalantly, "It doesn't matter if I'm honest. I have go to my date with Miss Fortune and if I'm lucky it will soon be Mrs Fortune." He said while sticking his tongue out between his fingers.

"Toodles!" He cheerfully as he leaves the three of them alone.

The King had a date and felt really lucky if he is honest!

(This takes inspiration by a small convo that @adyophene and I had it was too good for me not write.)

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inamindfarfaraway · 3 months

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The Exorcists’ Masks of Virtue

The vast majority of Exorcists in Hazbin Hotel have a notable design element that other angels don’t: their masks are missing an eye. Specifically, the right eye.

I believe this is a reference to the Bible, Matthew 5:29. Jesus says, “If your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.”

He’s being hyperbolic. Mr Free Healthcare was not pro-mutilation. What he means is that you have to be willing to make sacrifices to prevent sin. The context of the eye metaphor is him condemning adultery and warning that even something as easy, casual and small as a look full of lustful intent can lead to further, worse sin if you don’t notice your sin, hold yourself accountable for it and do the work to not let it influence your decisions. This will probably be hard. It could be very, very painful. Changing your perspective can feel as horrible as plucking out your eye, so many people can’t bring themselves to do it. But although it won’t feel that way in the moment, it’s healthier for our general wellbeing in the long run to abandon traits and behaviours that damage ourselves and/or others.

(You may notice that Jesus’s teaching that you can have sinned, redeem yourself by giving up sin and thus escape damnation is the founding principle of the Hazbin Hotel. You may also notice that it contradicts everything the Exorcists believe.)

The Exorcists seem to follow this idea of painfully excising badness for the sake of the greater good devoutly to the point of placing it above teachings like ‘Thou shalt not kill’, with their job being to remove sin, in the form of sinners, to protect Heaven. Hence the missing right eyes. They’re a declaration of moral righteousness and inability to stumble.

But the truth is that the Exorcists all have their right eyes. Their flawlessness is a facade. Underneath, they are untouched, think themselves morally untouchable and, as shown by their horror and outrage when even one of them is killed, would much rather be physically untouchable too. This perfectly represents their complete unwillingness to acknowledge their own faults, let alone improve. They are never the ones who sacrifice. They force the sinners to sacrifice and don’t compensate it with any salvation. They metaphorically rip out the sinners’ eyes, but still condemn their entire bodies as inherently, permanently sinful. So they’ll just have to do another Extermination to get the other eyes! And another one to cut off their right hands! And so on until there’s nothing left.

The only exception to the rule is Vaggie, both in appearance and character. Her mask has the left eye crossed out instead. Even before her expulsion, she’s set apart to the audience as an Exorcist who has the capacity to, shall we say, see a different side of things. Her mask having its ‘sinful’ right eye reflects her understanding that the Exorcist worldview is wrong.

When she almost kills a demon child, her hateful vision clears. She discards the part of herself that’s an unquestioning, merciless agent of death, terror and grief… and as punishment for what Lute perceives as treacherous weakness, gets her eye plucked out.

Of course Lute leaves her with only the ‘sinful’ eye. It brands Vaggie forever as the inversion, a perversion, of what the Exorcists are meant to be.

You know, all this talk of eye removal in the Bible reminds of another line - ‘an eye for an eye’. Adam directly quotes it in “Hell is Forever”. He uses it to frame the Exterminations as Old Testament-style punitive justice; the sinners did harm and so they receive it. But putting aside the debate about how ethical the concept of revenge is, the entire point of taking an eye for an eye is that it’s proportional. The punishment fits the crime. If someone cuts your eye out, you shouldn’t murder their whole family in front of them and then slowly disembowel them to death. That would be the sin of wrath. You should just make them pay without excessive pain or collateral damage. This is the fairest form of revenge.

The Exorcists don’t do that! The Exterminations aren’t proportional to the wrongs of all they hurt, nor was Vaggie’s brutal punishment equivalent to her extremely mild insubordination. Lute literally takes Vaggie’s eye, and more, after Vaggie does nothing to her! That’s the opposite of the phrase! Adam and his soldiers are wrathful and cruel, deriving satisfaction from others’ suffering. But they just can’t stop going on and on about how disgustingly evil the sinners are, in total hypocrisy… despite some of the sinners being far better people than the genocidal Exorcists are… it’s like they’re obsessed with specks of dust in the sinners’ eyes when they have massive logs stuck in their own. Oh hey, that’s in the Bible too!

#both emotionally and symbolically i am rooting for vaggie or charlie to take out one of lute’s eyes #i was like ‘cool vaggie’s missing the opposite eye to her former mask!’#and then i went back and saw that her mask was also different #and then i went down a rabbit hole of biblical mentions of bad things happening to eyes #i know god and jesus (and the holy spirit) probably won’t appear in the show #at least not in person #but i do cherish the mental image of adam and his genocidal army hanging out #when jesus christ bursts in with a whip #and gets all ‘you have made my father’s house into a den of thieves’ on them but an order of magnitude more intense #because HE SAID LOVE ONE ANOTHER #WHERE IS THE LOVE #HE SPECIFICALLY REQUESTED IT #i’m not christian! i’m a hardcore atheist!#religion is just as fictious to me as egyptian mythology #however i am also autistic and have major special interests in mythology and folklore #so here i am fervently writing analysis of the sermon on the mount #hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie #hazbin hotel exorcists #hazbin exorcists #hazbin hotel analysis #hazbin analysis

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itspileofgoodthings · 11 months

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one of my favorite things about pride and prejudice is that in the last third of the book Elizabeth’s internal monologue about Darcy is her admitting that she’s in love with him but also putting all sorts of qualifications around that statement that kind of ...tamp down the level of emotion (the “feelings, if not as tender as Jane’s for Bingley, at least as just” line, even the whole thing about her and Darcy being well-matched objectively speaking) and as soon as she’s engaged you get the unbridled joy in the narrative about her own joy, cc: “I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh.”

#pride and prejudice #jane austen #this is very obvious but it's in the narration itself #that she's trying to sort of distance herself from the depths of her own feelings in case this DOESN'T work out #i also think the rational stuff is totally true and she would say that after as well but she would say it in a different way #idk i just love it. it's so subtle and it's so true #also very obvious?? i feel like i'm making a very obvious point #but anyway 'elizabeth's feelings soon rising to playfulness etc. etc.'#also this is why i hated the end of a civil contract actually #i felt like she was tamping it all down and for some reason it just made me SO mad #like no. it's supposed to OVERFLOW NOW #adam being like 'and in the end the rational choice was jenny' sir i will FIGHT YOU IN THE PARKING LOT #idk i was student teaching and very emotional at the time maybe i missed something and read it wrong #but my entire spirit REBELED #like. how honestly DARE #i'm avoiding grading can you tell #yes you can I will go now

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lotus-pear · 5 months

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i'd like to think chuuya knows bits of french to some extent bc rimbaud would often randomly exclaim smth or mumble to himself in his native tongue and chuuya would overhear and pick up the little phrases and store it in the back of his mind unconsciously bc of his intrinsically observant nature, only for those phrases to resurface again when he's fighting verlaine and verlaine goes "sacre bleu!" or some shit and chuuya's like "Oh. OH. IVE HEARD THAT BEFORE...WASNT THAT WHAT SUB EXEC RANDOU ALWAYS USED TO SAY...." and verlaine completely halts with a nebulous expression on his face before going "who?????"

#yeah maybe i just said this bc i want to hear chuuya speak french. what of it? shut up.#do you think when verlaine approached chuuya as a mailman and told him to get in the car #his undeniable subtle french accent faintly registered in the back of chuuya's mind as the same tone rimbaud would speak in #and when adam yelled “THATS VERLAINE” the dots simultaneously connected as chuuya realized who the driver was #having stormbringer thoughts again... i miss this sad gay european family sm #hope chuuya brings verlaine a baguette back from france since they're in meursault still #maybe he'll move his ass out of the basement then #bsd

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swagveryswagamazinf · 5 months

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ok take charlie slimecicle holding my ponysona

#IMPORTANT : based on @/p0nyplanet's tweet and drawing #posting this here as well because I didn't put sweat and tears on this for not posting it #though it was a gift for me I just wanted to be happy really #also I saw this with adam from the great inspiring movie sa.w (2004) holding fluttershy and I needed to draw tjis #I have not mentioned hwo much I loev Adam I miss him everyday... BUT WERE GETTING OUT OF THE TOPIC MY BAD #slimecicle #my art #fanart #charlie slimecicle #ponysona #????

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evilkaeya · 5 months

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If Chuuya doesn't meet Adam in Europe what even is the point of sending him there

#'to save Dazai-' no one cares abt that roach #I need Adam to come pick them up from the prison #I need Chuuya to jump into Adam's arms and Dazai to laugh and follow behind him #I need Adam to look at them fondly bcz these boys were once 16. he fought by their side when they were 16. look at them all grown up now #I also need shirase to make a cameo and not remember dazai at all #like he knows who he is yk he just can't remember the name #and dazai to be PISSED as hell #bcz how DARE shirase doesn’t remember his name when dazai spent months wishing torment and suffering upon him #I NEED SIGMA TO MEET ADAM #'you... look pretty normal' 'we androids are designed to perform in ways that would be considered normal by humans' 'what'#icb i went on a rant in the tags again #it's missing Adam hours tonight

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curseanon · 24 days

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idk where else to ramble about this so im just gonna scream it into the void: nobody give me the “eve cheated on adam” or “eve is roo” or “eve is the main villain” shit, the justifications behind all of that is paper thin with just 8 episodes to draw from where eves name isn’t even mentioned once

instead i need vivzie to slap some dimension onto adam for once and give him an actual meaningful relationship and someone he actually cares about instead of making him one dimensional misogynist white bro character #85729

give me adam choosing exterminations as his revenge for Lucifer and Lilith doing something awful to his family. give me eve not showing up in heaven and adam shows up expecting to be in paradise with the woman he spent a thousand years of life with, only to be left alone and reasoning that she must be trapped in hell out of his reach, fueling his anger. yet another thing taken from him as a result of lucifer and liliths actions, and it’s the straw that breaks the camels back

give me adams eyes scanning the crowds of terrified sinners as he prepares to wipe them out, seeing if he can catch a glimpse of those eyes once more. give me adam always subtly looking around in search of something whenever he’s down there.

give me adam and liliths deal relating to information about eve

eve was literally made FROM him, u CANNOT tell me she is not and has not ALWAYS been His Girl. whether they’re together or physically parted. chalk it up to his narcissism or call it soulmates but please-

let this dumbass evil wannabe rocker boy have his cottage core wife who acts as his one connection to humanity in the face of all that he’s suffered through with lucifer and lilith

thank you for coming to my Ted talk, in this 20 part series i will-

(also if someone wants to send me some fics relating to this id appreciate that-)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x eve #hazbin adam #hazbin eve #eve hazbin hotel #this is my new Roman Empire #yes im a hopeless romantic #just pls i want adam being stupid for his wife #who is also missing and he genuinely loses control without her #hazbin hotel eve

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greatalastoraltruist · 3 months

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So we know Alastor and Lilith disappeared at the same time 7 years ago. And we know that Lucifer had a meeting with Heaven which began the exterminations. We don't know when that happened though. Either they're not mentioning when the exterminations started because they've always happened or because revealing when they started would give too much away and make it too easy to guess things. All Charlie knows is that Lucifer went to the meeting and she assumes he gave the go ahead for exterminations. But the exterminations haven't always happened. They only started after the angels, or specifically Sera I think considering no other angels knew about it, became afraid of the power and influence Lilith had over the demons.

My current theory is that that meeting was called between Sera, Adam, and Lucifer because Alastor and Lilith were planning on working together with him broadcasting her voice on his radio station to inspire the other demons to rise to war against the angels. I think Sera demanded that Lilith and Alastor be separated with Lilith making a deal with Adam to stay in heaven where she can't empower any other demons with her voice or even contact anyone in hell and that Sera demanded the exterminations happen as well in order to not only lessen the demons' power but also instill fear in them in an attempt to prevent future uprisings. I think Alastor was given the options of either be killed or sign a contract limiting his power and requiring him to stay away for a while so that their little idea of rebellion is forgotten amongst the masses. I especially think that because of Zestial's comment about folks thinking Alastor had fallen to holy arms. Maybe Sera is his contract holder. That or they tried to straight up kill him and he somehow escaped barely alive and it's taken this long for him to heal and regain enough power for him to feel comfortable revealing himself to society. But trying to kill him wouldn't explain the contact or his need to 'unclip his wings'.

#idk this is my current theory #i could end up being wrong but i feel like thats the direction all the foreshadowing is pointing towards #its way too much a coincidence for lilith and Alastor to have been gone the same amount of time esp with her in heaven after trying to #incite an uprising #considering Lilith has no wings it seems like the obv answer is Sera is his contract holder #and i see no reason for her to have ever met let alone make a contract with a demon outside of trying to stop a rebellion #one thing i don't understand tho is why didnt Sera and Adam just kill them? why are they still allowed to live? unless Lilith is somehow #unkillable but then still why didnt they just kill Alastor?#there has to be another factor im missing #ughhhhhhhhh who knows how many more years itll be before the next season #at least theyre already recording lines for it but its the animation thats gonna kill us #as much as i wish the next season was comin next year i doubt it and i def dont want any animators to be put through anymore crunch time #broadcasting across hell #alastor theory #hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #sera hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #lilth theory #radio demon #hazbin theory

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ediblesglue · 2 months

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I CANT WITH THE ANGST GUYS PLEASE

IT PHYSICALLY HURTS MY CHEST TO SEE

#saw 2004 #saw franchise #sawposting #saw #saw 4 #saw 5 #saw movies #saw x #i just miss adam #adam faulkner stanheight #saw ships

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hezuart · 7 months

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Something I was curious about is that you say Hazbin and Helluva don’t follow religious or biblical accuracy, but you seem to forget that it’s not supposed too. It’s Viv’s own spin on biblical things so of course it won’t be biblically accurate.

I’m not trying to be mean or degrade you in anyway I just don’t get why you think it needs to be accurate to religion.)

Because Viv's spin on the religion and its figures is like this

#the entire show's plot is based around religion #Hell- angels- devils- sinning- god #and yet viv says its also ....not based on religion? what?#Adam.. the first human? His design and his entire character plot... absolutely wacky. he talks like a 14 yr old incel and he loves guitar..#7 layers of hell but humans can only be stuck to the top pride layer? That's missing the point of the rings in the first place #Lucifer king of hell is just a wacky goof who wants to entertain people who is super into rubber duckies? i dont even know what to say #charlie wants to try and get Angel redeemed and into heaven #without acknowledging Heaven's homophobia and sexism that could prevent him from doing so #regardless of changed behavior #if viv wants to establish heaven is corrupted theres plenty of material to use...#but imagine if i said jesus christ was a bi saxophone player who wore a suit and tie and was super into collecting teddy bears #a lot of people would find it offensive #but truly its just so detached from the original material and i cant take it seriously #helluva boss critical

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ironbatpaperturtle · 4 days

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PT 4: Time travel AU

Adam smirked watching as Eve held the staff with confidence. The supposed callouses on her hand from wielding the weapon remains undetected. Adam would have to thank Eden for the immediate regeneration and the 'no concept of pain'.

It helped when they'd spare and Adam accidentally gets carried away, resulting in cuts and bruises littering Eve's freckled skin. Adam thinks that he should feel guilty. But honestly? Earth was unforgiving.

The animals that used snuggle up to them in Eden turned bloodthirsty, illneses everyday, fuck-ass vicious weather, poisonous food. Point is . You won't get out of it unscratched.

He'll make it that if she ever chooses free will over him then she'd thrive. Even if she ends up hating him for leaving her. It doesn't matter. Adam deserves to live a lavish life. Everyone else are just piles of shit Adam needs to overcome.

Speaking of shit, Adam can feel the gaze of a specific piece of shit from the trees. He's been extra sticky today, really, genuinely, like a pile of hardened shit that got stuck in between the cracks of a shoe.

How many times has he said shit?

"Eve, sweetie, come here" Adam hummed, Eve, ever the submissive wife, placed the staff down and stood next to Adam. The cuts she recently developed quickly fading away.

"You go get us some pears and berries, I'll clean up" Eve nodded at the order, walking away, but not before kissing Adam on the cheek. He watched as she went through the trees.

Once out of sight Adam's gaze shifted, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto the hiding snake. There it was, coiled in the shadows, with its slithering, slimy presence. Nasty

What Adam would trade for a day of normalicy. Fucking cunt has been on their necks for a while, 3 times he'd try to tattle on Adam, none obviously succesful since he's still in Eden kicking ass with Eve.

____

"Fuck" Adam silently cursed watching as Eve played with the lion instead of hitting its weak spots like Adam's taught her. The other lion Adam used as an example layed immobalized beneath his feet.

He sighed and crouched down to hit the lion's pressure spots. The lion, Lyah, shook herself out of the trance, pacing in circles to move her limbs before climbing on top of Adam to lick his face.

Adam crouched down, barely stopping the lion from licking him "Sorry, girl," his face was practically covered in sticky lion saliva.

Lyah, seemed utterly unfazed by the mess and instead, continued to loll her tongue out happily.

"Okay okay I get it" Adam giggled, well not giggled, snorted. Wiping the excess saliva from his face, he gently pat Lyah's head. Despite the unexpected shower of affection, Adam's really glad that the animals aren't jumping on him for the sole prospect of eating him.

"Adam"

Show time bitch. Adam turned to Michael, presenting a grin, behind Michael was a bunch of citrus trees. Adam could spot a cockatiel sitting ontop them. And Adam would bet his balls that it's Lucifer.

"Michael I've discovered something about lions!" Adam waved him over waiting for Michael to crouch down, shamelessly he took Michael's ungloved (thank god) hand using it to rub Lyah's stomach

"It's so soft and smooth but a different kind of smooth" Adam didn't forget to make his voice high pitched, like a kid making an obvious observation.

Adam noted at how Eve watched them in wonder. Manipulation at its finest babe

"And now touch me" okay well . . . just ignore that

He led Michael's hand to his chest, intently watcing as the angels poker face cracked, barely, still a win. Good, Lucifer probably said something abput Adam paralyzing the lion, he could work with this, he could fake this.

"Do you feel the difference?" Adam hummed keeping his voice low, dragging the hands that were directly on his chest to the underside, the angels thumb almost in-contact with the first mans nipple.

". . .Yes"

"Good" Adam directed Michaels hand back to Lyah, this time he made it go from the stomach to her head

"Her hair's completely different from mine and Eve's!" from the corner of his eye he could see Eve twiddling with her hair, following the observations.

"Feel me again!" again ignore that

The angels left hand was back too pressing itself on Adam's chest, his right hand was on Adam's hair, their hands intertwined.

"Feel the difference again?" hushed and low, added with a tilted head. At such a small distance Adam could see how the stars below the angels eye and forehead glowed blue, weird wasnt it usually yellow? Is that how they blush?

". . . Yes"

Adam grinned, well internally grinned, an evil one too. He knows how much angels get flustered over basic hand holding. The Lucifer he knew certainly was. And it seems like this one was no different.

Silently he made the hands go back to Lyah, sorry girl, hands still interwined he used the angels hands into pressing the pressure points. Lyah, who was basking from the affection froze, immobalized.

"And when I press here they also go like this!" Eugh, how long does Adam have to keep pretending, shits turning stale real fast.

Michael didn't react to the lion he immobalized. The stars dotted on his face were still blue, eyes intently where Adams hands were.

Now Adam wasn't a psychic, he can't read peoples mind, totally cool if he could though. But he knows that Lucifer's 'accusations' were already squashed, he also knows that behind him, where the citrus trees lay, was Lucifer shit talking him.

And Adam's proffecient in shit talking. A whole PhD or whatever the humans coined in the future, err, past. Again whatever

The point is, Lucifers ruffling up his already fucked up feathers, shit talking him. And its because Adam's playing buddy buddy with the better brother.

____

Lucifer couldn't believe it, instead of Adam denying the fact that he paralyzed the lion he made it into an accident. A 'happy' accident at that.

His anger was short lived as Adam's new wife, which he totally did not forget about, shouted. Asking for Adam to let her touch his chest too. Something Lucifer choose to ignore in favor of glaring at how Adam gently smiled at her.

____

Lucifer, with a tired sigh and a roll of his shoulder, shifted back to his form. He'd rather go back outside Eden before he gets another look of dissapointment from Michael, or a scolding from Sera.

Banishment from Eden wasn't bad, Lucifer could still sneak in. His access to Heaven was still granted. And well, he still has

"Lucifer"

"Lilith" Lucifer called out with sigh flying towards Lilith, using his arms and wings to hold her.

"Were you able to expose Adam?"

"Ah. . . no he keeps" outsmarting me "he's charming my brother and Sera"

Liliths hold on Lucifer tigthened "I see, well, its not your fault. Sooner or later Adam would crack, especially if he doesn't have a companion"

Oh right, Lucifer was so distracted by Adam that he completely forgot. Shifting his wings he carefully let go of Lilith.

"Actually, Adam has a new wife"

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#hastagCringe #me: I thought you said you'll work extra hard to the point you get flustered?#Also me: I said that?#no but genuinely I wanted them to be soo sweet or well unintentionally sweet but now it's just mehh #Maybe its just my standards but how I wrote it was lowkey mid #I was never much of a fluff person anyways #I tend to read those instead #Adam's Time travel era #guitarhero #did I like this? no but do I hate it? also no #so its a win-win #okay so you guys wont be able to see me for atleast a couple of days #or a week since I need to study dont miss me too much

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kazbiter · 3 months

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"adam parrish was a miracle of moving parts, a study in survival" in case u forgot!!!! "what do you want adam to feel awake when my eyes are open" let's consider!!! "who has he ever had to love him, ever?" even!!! "I know you are not the same as him but in my head everything is always so tangled I am such a damaged thing" as well!!! "he was not robert parrish but he forgave past adam for being afraid of the possibility" in fact!! "rags to riches isn't a story anyone wants to hear until after it's done" if you'll remember!!! "it was only because he believed he had saved himself that he could imagine saving someone else" if u even care!!!

#i actually did this first with ronan quotes and then when I was consulting my trc quote masterdoc (color coded excel sheet) i was like hmmmm #wait actually I miss adam so bad I need to do adam #it's a wonder that maggie was never hospitalized for burns the way her pen was ON FIRE writing these books #i might still post the ronan one later anyways why not!!!!#also the wrong devil and magician card scene live inside the walls of my mind I just didn't have a good line to use for them in this format #adam parrish #the raven cycle

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plush-rabbit · 1 month

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part two to the unnamed chapter from like a few days ago!! honestly, im suprised people liked it. like i didnt think it would get good stuff. like i dindt think it was bad, but im like the hype has died down anyways!! we meet the man, the myth, the devil himself!!

Word Count: 4.8K

You can hardly keep your eyes open. Even with the soft yellow glow of the light, it's far too bright for you. Shutting your eyes only brings you a bit of solace. You're somewhere soft, something light and feathery pulled over you, and you shift your shoulder blades to pull your wings closer to your body, and instead you sob, the pain sharp and unforgiving to your frail body.

Did you fall? No, maybe you slept on them wrong. You don’t have to think about stretching your wings, it was always second nature, as easy as blinking and as easy as moving your arm. You’d stretch your wings, and you’d ask Adam to help you preen your wings. You shift, and something feels empty, it feels light, lighter than air. You can’t remember your wings feeling so light, not unless you were flying. You’d hate to have messed up your wings over something as frivolous as falling.

Memories rush in, fragmented, only the beginning pieces clear enough for you to remember. Your eyes snap, and you’re met with harsh lighting. You see nothing but wood and stone, and a home that is not yours, and you groan into something soft under you. Moving your arm is painful, it feels bent and sore, and you reach for feathers, and find nothing. Your cries bury themselves into something plush, something that soaks your tears and drool and leaves only a patch behind. A hand pats softly against your arm, and you flinch.

A voice shushes out to calm you. “It's okay. You're safe. I'm not here to hurt you,” they whisper. “Just relax, and try not to move. You still haven't recovered.”

Even if they speak softly to you, it's far too loud. The words echo in your head, and attempting to think about where you are and who you're with is making you nauseous. Or perhaps it's the sickly honeyed scent that is thick in the air.

“‘S too sweet,” you slur, clawing at fabric beneath you. You regret speaking, the movement making your already sore jaw ache further, the joints pushing into your splitting skull. Your head pulses and your mouth is cotton filled, thick and impossible to speak. “Where?” You hope that someone will give you an answer to where you are. Or at least what you're on.

“Oh, thank you,” a voice chirps.

“Don't think it was a compliment Bee,” a thick accent says in a hushed voice.

“Well I'm taking it as one,” the voice huffs.

“You're at my home,” the gentle voice is back. “You're in a spare bed. Just try to relax.” You can’t relax with all the sound, and when you try to tell him that, you only murmur, slurring letters together. “I know, I know.” He doesn’t, but you can’t correct him. “Just try not to move so much.” It's quiet again, a silence that stretches and fills the void with nothingness. The smell and the shuffling of bodies is the only indication that you aren’t alone, that you haven’t been left yet.

“Luci, mate, you sure it's a good idea to have an angel laying around?” You hear the chime of bells, and you want everything to stop.

“They aren't an angel,” a voice retorts. A hand places itself over your bicep, and squeezes you softly.

“Yeah, but like, it’s still a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” The voice is much more feminine, and you can hear a buzz when they speak, a low hum that doesn’t stop. “Having one of them just on your bed.”

“A spare bed,” the voice corrects. The bed dips beside you, your fingers tap against the mattress. “It was dangerous when we were first here,” snapping at the other, before sighing. “It’s been a long time since another angel has fallen.”

“Lucifer, honey,” this voice is smoother than the others, and you wish they would all stop talking. “What’s the plan here?” Someone makes a noise of confusion. “They aren’t an angel anymore, if anything, they’re a walking target. We don’t even know if they’re an Exorcist.”

“Heaven hasn’t cast out an Angel in so long,” the voice says softly, a finger tracing shapes onto your arm. “And I highly doubt they’re an Exorcist. I can almost- I’m positive that they aren’t.”

An Exorcist. That’s what they think. Lute flashes in your mind, and Adam follows, weapons ready, and thinking hurts far too much. You groan, nuzzling into the pillow, trying to tune out the sounds. You need them to stop talking.

A hand pats at your arm, and soon you feel fingers tangle themselves into your hair. Fingertips ghost alongside the tender part of your scalp. The voice hushes you, lulling you back into a state of unconsciousness. “I’m sorry,” they whisper, “we must be too loud for you.”

“Lucifer, I know you’re still-” the person pauses- “upset-” they sound unsure of the word they’re using- “about the last few years, but you can’t take on a pity project.”

Lucifer. They keep saying- oh shit. You let out a whimper. You don’t know if you’re thankful for being found by him, or if it’s a curse to be found by him. He shushes you once more, massaging gently at your scalp.

“Yeah-” the buzzing is louder this time- “you know, if you were lonely, you could have just said something. I got some cute little hounds that need loving homes, ya know? And uh, they’re cute-” they hiss that word and you furrow your brows- “and practically housebroken.”

“Luci, it’s not like they’re worth much. I mean look at ‘em. I don’t even think I remember seein’ them back up when we were there, so they gotta be new or somethin’.”

The hands still, fingertips pressing into the tenderness of your head. You let out a low sound, and give a soft nudge of your head for the person- Lucifer you presume, to let go. He apologizes, soothing over the spot where he’s touched. “It’s not- They aren’t a pity project. This isn’t that. Don’t you remember how bad it was. How painful it was to fall. At least we had each other. We were stronger than most angels.” You wish they would all stop talking. Especially when they refer to falling, you can't stand to hear it. “They have no one. This is- I just want them to feel safe.” His words come to a slow stand, and if it didn’t hurt to cry, you’d sob at the reminder of your punishment. “Their wings were ripped from them, they weren’t even allowed to heal.”

“Well it ain’t like Heaven is known for their leniency.”

“Listen, Lucifer, we’re just saying that you’ve been having a lot of big emotions recently, and maybe nursing someone back to health isn’t what you need right now.” Lucifer- at least you’re assuming- makes a noise in protest at what the other voice is stating. “What’s the long-term plan, hm? You fix them and then what? Do they live here? Do you kick them out? Take them over to Charlie?”

The room is still, the buzzing has quieted down to a hum, and you feel sleep grasp onto you once more. “You should all go.” The group protests immediately, voices overlapping one another, the buzzing higher, and scent of sweets and leather grows and irritates you further. Your head pounds, banging against your skull. You shift, pulling at the wounds, and a cry muffles itself into your pillow. “It’s okay, you’re okay” the voice says in a hushed voice, palms pressed flat against you, cooling your feverish body. “I’ll give you something right now to help the pain.” He clears his throat away from you. “I have to think about things. I’ll make sure to give you updates as they come along, but for now, I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He pauses. “You should return back to your rings.”

The buzzing quiets down, and footsteps shuffle out. It's a mess of steps, puttering and pattering along the floor, and the sound is [welcomed] by silence. A door clicks shut, and you hear no lock.

Thinking if you're a prisoner or not is too much of a task right now. The strength of the saccharine scent has left with its owner, and instead now gently wafts in the air. Somewhere on the other side of the room, you hear a sigh.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have been having that conversation with you in the room.” You let out a short huff in response. “It won’t happen again, okay? We must have been loud for you, huh?” With all the strength that you can muster, you give a short nod. “Let me go get you something for the pain, okay?” You feel a soft hand over your bicep, giving you a soft squeeze. The hand lingers with fingertips that kiss over your skin in feather light touches as they pull away.

You drift between consciousness and unconsciousness, unable to fully sleep, but you don’t register anything that happens. All that you’re aware of is that someone is back in the room with you. He’s beside you, something plastic touching against your lips and the thick taste of medicine is bitter on your tongue.

“I’m going to light some incense, okay?” You’d rather he give you water or anything else to wash the taste off. “You just let me know if it’s too much.” The scent is much calmer compared to the sickly sweet one from earlier. “I had Belphegor send me some sleeping aids. I believe it’s the only reason you’re able to get some actual rest.” Your lips mouth the words “thank you”. Something soft and warm covers you, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress. “I don’t know how much of your power was stripped, or how much you even had to begin with. Mammon was right about that, you are a newer angel, you might not even be able to do much other than heal.” His voice is growing harder to understand, it’s fading into the back, and sleep pulls you further in. “However, I wouldn’t ask you to even attempt to heal yourself- not in this state,” he whispers.

“Taste bad,” is all that you can mutter. Your head pounds, and it feels like it’s swelling. Each word that you speak is laid thick and slurred together. Every syllable only brings you sickness and an ache in your skull.

“I know,” he sighs. “The medicine here doesn’t taste good, but there’s not much that I can do about it.” A cloth dabs at your mouth. “Hell is supposed to be a punishment after all,” he says with a humorless laugh. “I’m- I’m sure that Heaven’s medicine is still divine as ever,” they mumble with a heavy weight on the words.

“Like nectar,” you speak softly, the memory of it faint on your tongue.

Something brushes along your face, and you feel the pull of sleep. “Yeah,” he breathes out, “like nectar.”

Knocking on the door disrupts your sleep. Something gargles sounds on the other side of the door. In your mind, it’s too faint to make anything out. You hear the squeak of the door open, and through bleary eyes, you make out two tall figures. Again, they speak to you, and you nod back to sleep.

You feel the latex of gloves touch your body, knuckles the brush against the nape of your neck and hands that grab your arms, ready to still you as you tense. “We’re just changing your bandages.” You shake your head. “It’ll be quick, just stay still.” You’d rather deal with an infection than with how the doctors treat you. You recall a voice making an argument that you’re not welcomed here, that you're an angel in a land of sin.

“No, no,” you mutter, tears staining your face and wetting the pillow. You feel the cold breeze on your back, whispering over your wounds. The stickiness of the gauze peels away from you, and you can smell the stench of it- metallic, rich and earthy. Something so sweet, and it disgusts you and the doctors.

Their hands grip tighter onto you, holding you down and you yelp. “Stay still.” You recall many moons ago how Lute told you something similar. How her words were laced with sorrow and false bravado. These doctors, these demons, spit the words at you, and hold you down.

Your hands claw at the mattress, your screams echoing against the wall, bouncing and ringing in your ears. Light blinds you immediately as your eyes flash open, and your head is head, pushed down onto the mattress, as curses are spit onto you. You’re in Hell. Your teeth find themselves tearing into the pillow, drool pooling into a puddle and tears slipping down.

“Just,” they grunt, and press firmly down on your back, “stay still.” You gasp for breath, kicking and digging your knees into the bed. “Please,” they beg, and you fall, your body limp and heavy on the bed.

As quick as it started, it ends just as quick. You’re left sobbing, gasping for breath, and despite the pain, and tearing open the wound, you hug yourself, your nails scratching against the cloth. They’ve placed it far too tight for you.

Only a few weeks pass when you’re finally cognitive. When your head isn’t splitting at every noise, and you can move somewhat without risking any pain or even your fear of opening the wounds back open. You stay as still as possible, and try not to do any sudden movement that would stretch your back. Lucifer has attempted to reassure you that you’re fine now, that combined with Hell’s magic and his own blessing, you should be fit to move around. Of course, you will be sore, that can only go away with time.

“You’ll be left with scars. That can’t be helped,” he told you, his eyes focused on how your hands fist the blanket, “but you’ll be okay.” He gives you a tender smile, and you cling to it in the night.

Once you were in a proper headspace, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised to know that it was him taking care of you. From what you can faintly recall in one of the many conversations that he’s had in the room as you recovered, he knows what it’s like to be cast out.

However, you are surprised at how caring and patient he is. That despite you being able to do most things on your own without stumbling, he is still beside you, keeping you company and comforting you when he has to change the bandages. He hardly lets anyone else do it after you complained about doctors accidentally wrapping the bandages too tight. His gentleness is a mask for his pity, and he can never meet your eyes without looking away.

You’re laid on your stomach, and your only entertainment is wondering what could be inside the bedside drawers. While moving does not cause as much discomfort as it once did, you don’t risk stretching. You sit straight, and you look at the wall, and dare not to stretch your arms. Pillows have been fluffed and placed to create a soft barrier between you and the headboard of the bed. Knuckles rap against the door in a rhythm, and you stare at the wall in front of you. You wait for a second, and with a breath, you allow for the person to enter.

“Hello,” Lucifer calls. “I’ve brought you some fruit. I’m sure that you must have been feeling peckish.” You give no reply. “I uh- I also brought some books.” The bowl of fruit is balanced above the small stack of books. “I was thinking that I’ll get you a television or something soon. But maybe some literature would be good for you.” He rests the tower on the dresser, and grabs the bowl between his hands.

You should reply to him. You should tell him thank you- not just for the books and the bowl of fruit, but for housing you, for caring for you. But you cannot. Not when he’s a constant reminder of where you are.

“I was wondering if there was any type of genre that you might like.” He sounds hopeful, wanting to continue a conversation with the husk in front of him. “It would be no trouble to get them to you.”

His smile is stretched thin, and it looks painful. All of this is painful. Your eyes flitter over to the fruit bowl, and you wonder how you’d feed yourself when stretching your arms still pulls at the scars.

“Would you like some?” He leans towards you, and you have the mental image of being some hurt bird being nursed back to health. “I had some demons go over to Earth and get some for you. I thought you’d prefer this over the food that we have here. Since you aren’t accustomed to Hell’s food, yet.” You stay silent, and after a moment he sighs. His heels click against the floor, and the bowl is placed on your lap. “You know,” he starts, “it would help if you talked. I know what you’re going through, and you can’t- you shouldn’t isolate yourself.” When you refuse to answer, he sighs. “Well, if you need something, just let me know.”

Despite not wanting to be here, of not having any need to want to continue your existence, you have grown a strong dislike of being alone in this room. You have no idea if he’s isolating for your own safety, or for some other nefarious reason. He clasps the door knob around his hand, and twists it. You wet your lips, and you need someone to talk to.

“Lucifer?” You croak out, and you surprise yourself with your voice. You hadn’t heard it in so long, past the screaming and the tears. He turns to you, taking a step closer, and his hand returns the door knob to its closed position. “Can you stay?” You feel sick looking at the fruit. “Please?”

With a gentle smile, he nods his head. “Of course.” He grabs a chain from the corner of the room and carries it to sit beside you. It’s a deep wooden color, intricate designs carved into the legs of the chair, and a deep red cushion that is stitched into the seat and the back.

The silence between the two of you is broken by the crunch of the fruit. You pierce a grape with the silver tines of the fork, and your body aches with the movement to bring it up to your mouth. The sweet juice does nothing to aide in your brooding and the awkward silence.

He’s right, and you know that. You have to try. He’s the only contact that you have. Adam always hated how you’d hide your emotions, how you rather shut the world off, and at least that hasn’t changed since your falling. You need to talk to him. You can see the attempt that Lucifer has been making in order to keep you happy, to make your time here just a bit more bearable. You suck in your lower lip, and let your tongue brush over where your teeth have grazed.

“I was promised a trial,” you start. His eyes are on you, and you see him fiddle with his tie. “They promised it would have been fair.” You frown, and shake your head, an ache heavy in your chest. “I was so hopeful that it would have been.” The fruit is bitter on your tongue and you force yourself to swallow it.

After a moment’s silence, he speaks. “Who would have been the judge?”

The apple is pierced between your teeth, the skin ripping from the flesh of the apple. It was cute with care, no hint of the core tarnishing the fruit, ripe and perfect, only to be mauled by your teeth. “Father.” You swallow the fruit. “Or perhaps one of the Virtues.” Oranges are peeled, torn apart from the other slices, the piths of white removed. “I was worried that I would have fallen, even before I was given my verdict. My-” you look at Lucifer, and you remember who he has stolen- “I feared that I would have fallen, because I didn't matter. No one questions Heaven’s beliefs, not since-” you glance at him, and he turns his head- “I was sure I would have met the same fate.” The sweetness of the strawberries make your jaw tingle and ache. “And I did.”

“I’m sorry.” You hold the fork tightly, the silver pressing into the flesh of your palms. “The fear you had must have been,” he pauses, “intense.”

There is no one better who understands, other than Lucifer himself. You nod, and let the fork ding against the glass of the bowl. “I was good. I did what was needed of me, I didn’t dare speak out of turn.” You think of how Adam would run his mouth, how every other word would be a curse, would be of anything lewd. “Perhaps I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. Not if a question were enough to have me expelled from Heaven.”

A gloved hand reaches, and falls just before your thigh. A gold band hugs at his finger, and you’re surprised to have yet seen his wife. Feeling your stare, he turns his hand, and lets the other fingers hide the symbol of matrimony.

“Sometimes, that’s all it takes,” he says quietly, his tone soft, and wistful. “But, if it makes you feel any better, Hell has some redeeming qualities. It’s not all pain and suffering.” You look at him, and he gives you a smile. “We have an amusement park. There’s a uh-” he scratches the back of his neck, his gaze pointed elsewhere and checks flushing- “ride modeled after me.”

The corners of your lips turn, and you narrow your eyes at him. “After you?” You ask, an elfish tinge laced into your words.

“Shaped like my head.” A finger makes a circle in front of his face.

You scoff out a laugh, and the sound surprises you. You attempt to hide the smile, but when the corners still turn upwards, you look at your lap. “You are the Avatar of Pride after all,” you tell him, the lilt faint on your words.

“It’s actually very impressive,” he points out. “A whole ride dedicated to my likeness.”

“The line for it must be awful.” The juice of the fruit is thin on your tongue. “Heaven has zoos. There’s an area where you get to feed the birds out of the palm of your hand.” You push the fork upwards with the knuckle of your index. “They hardly ever peck your palm, but when they do, we call them kisses from one of Father’s creations.”

He snorts, and shakes his head. His smile is soft, and there's a lingering sadness to it before it falls. “Down in the Wrath ring, there are livestock shows where you’ll find horse bucking and catching the flamed greased pig.” You give him a look, and he smiles. “It’s not as nice as the zoo, I’m sure, but it’s just as entertaining.” He leans back on his chair. “Sometimes I would take my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” You knew of his wife, but you hadn’t realized that they had a child. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

He winces, and nods sheepishly. “Charlie,” he tells you her name. “I think you’d like her- she’s peppy.” He gives you a tense smile, and looks away. “We don’t talk as much as we used to.”

You frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, and lets out a sigh. He sits straighter, and pulls his shoulders back. “How are the bandages?” You roll your ankles, unsure what to make of the sudden shift in conversation. “They’re not too tight are they?” It’s not your place to pry, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable when he’s the one caring for you.

“No, Lucifer,” you answer. “They’re fine. Thank you.”

He nods, and you can tell he’s grown uncomfortable now. You don’t blame him. “Of course. I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. As much as possible.”

A silence befalls between the two of you. You bite into the fruit, and force yourself to swallow it. The nectar is sweet and makes your jaw ache. Beside you, Lucifer clears his throat, and you turn to him.He looks away, his eyes trained on the walls.

“If I may ask, I- Well you see, you know my name-” he looks at you again, and you tap your nails against the glass- “and I don’t know yours.” Your eyes widen, and you try to think back on when you might have whispered your name to him, but you can’t recall it. “I just- I was thinking since you’re here, and I’ve changed your bandages, I thought, that I should be calling you by your name.”

“My name?” You whisper, and you feel silly for keeping it close to you. For just a fraction of a second, for some far away thought to be held, that you didn’t want to share the last thing that ties you to Heaven.

“If only that’s okay. If not, we can come up with a nickname or something.”

You shake your head. You’ve kept your name to yourself, and you wonder if your pain-induced haze, if he’s ever asked you for it. You stretch your lips, and wet your tongue. “Did you ever ask for it,” you hold the words on your tongue, and they are heavy like wine, “when I was in and out?”

“Yes,” he confesses. “You wouldn’t answer.”

A name given by Heaven; whispered to you gently in the arms of Father, as sunlight shined down upon you and warmth surrounded you in your creation. It’s silly, and childish to cling to it, to hold onto it like a child holds onto their blanket, but it’s all that you have left. Everything else was stripped from you, taken and tossed aside, and you wonder if your name even holds any significance back home.

You turn to Lucifer, and your name is heavy on your tongue, bitter like wine, and it’s your name, fitting you like a glove that will fit no other.

Lucifer repeats your name, whispering it under his breath, tasting it between his canines and tongue, and you watch him. Chills run down your spine, and the feeling is not unpleasant. He catches your eyes, and his cheeks flush, the red spots darkening, under your gaze. He calls your name once more, louder and clearer, want held between the vowels, as if to savor your name, to savor what you’ve given to him.

You nod, your chest aflame, as if you’ve done something scandalous. You can’t trust your voice, not when he's looking at you. Your knuckles feel as if it’s on pins, tingling and having you scratch against the bowl.

He glances at your lap. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” you breathe out rather quickly.

He reaches for the bowl, grabbing it by the rim and stands from his chair. You watch in silence as he pushes the chair back, letting it block one of the drawers from the nightstand. The bowl clinks against the mahogany of the dresser, and he grabs the books, flush against his chest.

“I hadn’t meant to leave the books so far from you,” he says, placing them on the nightstand. “They’ll be closer within your reach.” You nod, and peek over, reading the title of the first book. “I’ll be back in a few hours, if you need anything, feel free to call out. I’ll make sure to hear it.”

He walks away, his heels clicking against the floor, and you don’t want to be alone anymore. “Lucifer,” you call out, fisting the blankets in your hand. He turns around, pressing the bowl against his body, his hand wrapped tight around the doorknob, already opening it and stepping into the rest of his domain. You swallow nothing, and try not to think of anything other than gratitude. “Thank you for everything,” you tell him, sending him a thinned smile.

“Of course,” he calls your name in a sweet tone. “Whatever you need, just let me know.”

The door closes shut, and you let out a breath. Your hands fist at your shirt, grasping and you bite the inner corners of your lips, feeling the soft flesh of it be pierced by your teeth. It’s been far too long since you’ve had a gentle hand, since you’ve had someone be gentle with you. A hand reaches out and scratches along your bicep, pulling the skin and leaving soft arches across.

You hadn’t realized how much you would miss Adam.

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