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t0rturedangel · 3 months

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╭ . . . 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 ੭

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ; ♰ ৎ﹕𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴

Okay, before I start- i know that hazbin hotel has a lot of good ass songs, and I want to make own little custom songs but I cant write songs for shit however I can write poetry (not well but I'm trying) so instead of writing songs for you, I'll write shitty poetry that does not rhyme. Also sorry if my depictions of love aren't good- i have literally never been in love before, and if the ending is rushed, I'm not used to writing so much in one setting

➷ ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳＳＣＥＮＥ | ＮＥＸＴＳＣＥＮＥ

There once was an Cherubim angel,

so gentle and kind,

perched upon a cloud

You sat on a cloud, smiling to yourself as you watched over all the different angels talk to each other about their duties- heaven was perfect, no- no not just perfect, heaven was a utopia. No angel can do any wrong, it is only virtue that existed upon these clouds and you were among these creatures of purity, you were one of god's creations just as all the other's were.

The clouds around you were soft, almost as if they were made of the soft silk your robes were made of, they were formed to bring comfort to any angel that came in contact with them and while all angels were already joyful, the clouds merely helped them stary from sinful thoughts.

She waited for another angel,

a Seraphim named Lucifer,

a friend, so close to her

You wondered though, were was lucifer? He was always about yet you didn't have any idea on where or how to find him. In all honesty, you found Lucifer to be amazing- his ideas, imagination, creativity bought stars to your eyes (figuratively, you had no iris or pupil- your eyes, more specifically your sclera, were a soft yellow colour with white swirls decorating them), to you his words were so brilliant, other angels couldn't even begin to speak or think the way he does.

He always came up with new ideas, new creations him, you and the other angels can create- can look after and love. You couldn't help but indulge in his chats with you- adding onto his ideas in anyway you can and while you personally thought your ideas weren't as amazing as his, to Lucifer your ideas were flawless- he always said that.

Lucifer was brilliant, he truly was- you could never understand why the other angels despised his thoughts so much.

Perhaps, the cherubim was in love,

perhaps she enjoyed Lucifer's company

much more beyond just meer friendship.

Okay, you needed to slow down- you were always thinking how great he was, maybe you didn't just like him as a friend... just maybe you liked him a bit more. Though, that way of thinking should stop soon- after all you have angelic duties to do! there is no way you can just abandon them just because you adored Lucifer....'s ideas.

You took a breath and got on your feet, spreading your wings (you had four wings, two on each side) so you could take off and start your work, however when you were jus about to begin to fly a figure rushed to you- wrapping their arms around your torso.

The seraphim appeared,

all smiles and glee

he held his friend closely

with tender, with care

Lucifer came out of no where, though his presence was welcomed warmly by you : who held him back just as tight. " Luci! " you grinned letting go of him, he had gotten there just in time- it was almost like he knew you were about to fly off, " [name]! Ha ha! how are you? " he asked holding both of your hands- a dorky smile engraved onto his face " Where have you been? I was worried " that was half-true, there was no evil (what even was evil? you didn't know, it doesn't exist not yet ) but there was a high chance that Sera was telling him off again.

" How sweet, but don't worry I'm alright cherub " he brought your hands closer to him- something that grin he held could only grow as the seconds passed by, seeming like he wanted to say something " Luci- I know that look in your eye, you've being creating again! Tell me everything ", your own smile began to grow as you squeezed his hand.

" You know me too well! Okay, so i was thinking of trying to make [ creature ], sounds cool right? well guess what else! " and with that he began to ramble about his ideas once more, with you chirping in some of your own ideas which made Lucifer sound even happier.

The two angels were at peace,

within the company of each other-

did they love each other?

would they dare say it?

You flew around with Lucifer, laughing together while yelling out some nonsense that seemed to only make sense to you and him- just you and him. Though your fun was quick to end when the two of you reached the tallest cloud in all of heaven and the two of you- both out of breath- fell onto it. " That was fun! " you chuckled, still trying to catch your breath " yeah! I loved that " was the reply, then silence fell upon the two of you. Though it wasnt awkward silence, it never was when it came to [name] and Lucifer- it was comforting and peaceful.

Though this silence was broken quickly by you. Over the last few weeks, months you were coming to understand your feelings towards the seraphim, and while you could easily deny them- to avoid them and focus of everything but that but you just couldn't, you sucked with feelings especially hiding them! and plus, how could you live if you didn't tell Luci how you felt " Luci... I " love you, those words were suddenly lodged in your throat and you couldn't let them be said- be heard why did that happen, you were sure you could say them- hell you said them before to people who you see as family!, "sorry what i meant was I- " loved you for so long now, I love you and I don't think I can ever stop loving you " loved that too- it was so fun! "

She couldn't say it,

she was too scared to tell her dear Lucifer

of her true feelings... though did he feel the same?

What was wrong with you? You couldnt say it, why? You loved Lucifer- there you admitted it in your mind but you just cant say it to him. You sighed and stared at your mirror- looking over your face, your long hair (angels all had long hair, it was one of the things that they always cared for and almost showed off)

Of course he did,

how could he not?

he loved her more than anything

she listen to his ideas, she added onto them

she never hated them, never judged.

but then, the high order formed the earth-

Adam and Lilith.

" [name? " Lucifer walked over to you, a smile on his face- though he always smiled, this smile seemed different in a way but you couldn't place your finger on it however that did not stop you from returning his smile " Luci! hey! " you grinned as he stopped just in front of you " [name]? do you know the two humans? " " Adam and Lilith? " " yes! Me and Lilith... are in love!"

...

he.. he loved the human Lilith? The one who ran from Adam (you heard of this from Sera, and while you acted disappointed you agreed with Lilith's decision of leaving Adam, you would have too), he found her and fell for her? .. how? she hasn't even existed for that long! How could you possibly fall that quick? it was impossible right?

It took you a few seconds to compose yourself so you can smile for Lucifer, though it didnt feel right " That's... brilliant Luci! I'm so happy you found love- how does it feel like? " and with that question you bared the suffering of listening to Lucifer, the one you loved, gush about Lilith, and you were almost envious of Lilith- almost hated her, you never met her and now dear god you probably don't ever want to. You had lost your Lucifer to her, though... you suppose he was never yours.

and with that,

those confessions of requited love

would forever be sealed away,

locked behind their grinning lips

though the perish of love was not their only problem.

Lucifer went too far,

he created evil through the second bride,

she bit the apple, she took the fall

and Lucifer and his love was to blame

though you would not let him be punished alone.

You too were part of this.

" No! " You screamed as you ran to the shaking Lucifer's side, almost trying to shield him from the anger of the higher order of angels. " Leave him be! He has done nothing wrong! " you defended him, still caring over your friend. Nevertheless, the angels did not listen to your words in the way you intended- they saw this as a further act of aggression from you as you also had a part to play in coursing dear Eve into biting the apple from the tree of knowledge of good or evil, you lead her to the tree, plucked the apple with Lucifer in tow and let her bite it. Now you and Lucifer were being punished, Lucifer getting the harsher side of it.

The angel was thrown to the depths,

to a world name named Hell,

where the only side of humans Lucifer was granted to see,

was the side he created.

You were also punished to fall,

tho to hell was too much they said

so you fell the half way

now for ever trapped in a dead land-

forever banished to be alone.

𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 ⠆ ⸺ @reverse-soe @jellibean2018 @aliazy @sugarrush-blush @littledolly2345 @immahuman @marsilis

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saradika-graphics · 4 months

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Hey cherub!!! How are you doing? Was wondering if I could request some cherub/angel wing inspired dividers with a white and pink colour scheme? Thank you so much Jess! Love ya! Xxxxxxx 🪽🪽@cherubispunk

hi lucy! I would love to make some angel/cherub dividers for you 💕 I did some cute designs + clips of paintings with angels. Please let me know what you think! 🪽@cherubispunk

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

#if you want any changes please let me know!#dividers #fic dividers #tumblr dividers #aesthetic dividers #type: dividers #theme: angel #color: pink #color: white

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bradshawssugarbaby · 5 months

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Merry Christmas, Darlin' - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: A little Christmas morning fluff for our favourite WSO 🎄 This is my first of three entries for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge to celebrate the holidays with our favourite aviators.

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff. pregnancy. Bob as a dad.

word count: 1.5k

“Mommy! Daddy!”

The sound of little voices filled the bedroom as your twin daughters, Lucy and Clara jumped onto the bed. You grumbled as your eyelashes fluttered open, a loud grunt coming from your husband as one of the girls inevitably dive bombed on top of his body. You rolled over in bed, turning to face your husband, who was lifting up Clara and pulling her into bed with you, him and Lucy. Bob blindly stuck his arm out to the right, feeling around on the nightstand for his glasses. He put them on and blinked a couple of times to allow his eyes to adjust before laughing softly and kissing both Lucy and Clara on the forehead, playing softly with their hair as he held his girls close.

“Daddy, guess what!” The girls voices rang out in unison as they spoke excitedly. Lucy’s blonde curls bounced around her little face as she jumped up and down on the bed between you and Bob, her cherubic cheeks rosy and pink as she beamed at him.

“What is it, my little sweet peas?” Bob chuckled as he smiled at them both, leaning in to listen intently to what they had to say.

“Santa came to visit!” Clara exclaimed as Lucy squealed in delight.

Both girls nodded their heads quickly, giggling in perfect harmony with each other as they bounced on the bed, trying to wake you and Bob from your half-asleep states, enticing you to come downstairs and see what Santa had brought for them. Bob shook his head as he feigned surprise for the girls, his mouth agape in mock disbelief.

“No way, Santa came here?! You mean, the cookies we baked are all gone?”

The girls nodded and giggled again, before Lucy piped up and pointed towards the hallway.

“He left presents too! Our stockings are full. He left stuff for me and Clara and Mommy and you too, Daddy!”

“Mommy and me too?” Bob shook his head as he beamed at the girls, “Tell you two what, if you guys go head downstairs and give Mommy and I five minutes to get up and brush our teeth, we’ll come right downstairs and open those presents, sound good?”

The twins nodded in unison before scrambling off the bed. They hurried out of the room, the sound of little feet hammering down the wooden flooring in the hallway before padding down the carpeted stairs to the living room. Bob shook his head, laughing before turning to you and smiling, his deep blue eyes meeting yours as he placed his hand lovingly on your cheek.

“Well, I bought us five minutes. Give or take, neither of the girls can tell time yet, thankfully.”

“What exactly are you planning on doing in those five minutes, Lieutenant Floyd?” You smirked as you turned on your side, leaning your head into your palm as you looked at him, his hand stroking your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well…” Bob playfully taps his chin as he thinks and laughs softly, “I’m sure I could give you an early Christmas gift in five minutes, but I’m not sure how enjoyable it’d be for you. I’d certainly enjoy it though, m’am”

A wide smirk forms on Bob’s lips, grinning at you as he leaned in, pressing his soft lips against yours. His nose brushed against yours as your tongues tangled together. A low grunt escaped from Bob’s mouth, falling against your lips with a vibration, his hand dragging down your side, snaking its way up the side of your pajama shirt, stroking your soft skin. He placed his hand on your back, pulling your body in as close to his as possible, his lips trailing slowly from your mouth to your jaw, before making their way down your neck. You drew in a sharp breath as his lips found your exposed collarbone. Your eyes darted over to the alarm clock on the nightstand before landing back on Bob, whose lips were now sucking and nibbling at your skin.

“Bobby, you have two minutes left, and we still have to actually leave the bed,” you laughed and shook your head slightly, almost regretting that Bob didn’t tell the kids to go back to sleep for another hour.

“Mhmm, I can’t help it, you’re irresistible, darlin’,” He smirked as he ran his finger along your jawline, tilting your head up before pressing his lips to yours again.

“Robert Floyd, you promised two four year old girls that we’d be downstairs in five minutes and all we were doing was getting up and brushing our teeth. We’ve done neither of those things in the last,” you frowned as you looked at the alarm clock again, “six minutes. You’re now late.”

“Alright, alright, I’m getting up,” He laughed softly, shaking his head as he threw the covers off of his long, lean body before swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. He looked to you and watched as you got yourself up, his lips curling up into another cheeky smirk as he took in your figure.

“God, you’re incredible. I hope my Christmas present is you later tonight,” He grinned before strolling towards the ensuite bathroom. You chucked a pillow his way as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Behave yourself, Lieutenant. We have all of Christmas Day to get through first.”

Bob shrugged his shoulders as he stood in the doorway to face you, brushing his teeth. He leaned over to spit in the sink before rinsing it down and wiping his mouth with his facecloth from the side of the sink.

“Well, guess I better get downstairs and tame those two before they start unwrapping their presents without us,”

Bob’s hand found its way to your behind as you switched places with him in the bathroom, his deep blue eyes flashing a mischievous grin to you as he whispered in your ear.

“You know, darlin’, I wouldn’t mind if we had another one. I mean, I love our girls, but think of how cute they’d be with a little brother or sister.”

You rolled your eyes as you put the toothpaste on your toothbrush before turning towards your husband with a grin.

“You know, it’s funny you say that,” You began, before being interrupted by the sound of two little voices ringing out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Mommy, Daddy, hurry up!” The girls whined, their voices growing impatient as they waited for you and Bob to get moving.

Bob sighed and shook his head before kissing your cheek gently, He headed off downstairs while you finished brushing your teeth. You stepped into your slippers and pulled on one of Bob’s old sweatshirts before heading downstairs to join your family, where Bob was waiting with a cup of coffee for you, your daughters happily eating some cereal at the table, their blue eyes gazing longingly at the presents under the tree. You took the mug from your husband, a smile on your lips as you sipped the warm liquid carefully. As the girls finished eating, Bob cleared their dishes away before returning to his spot in the comfortable lazy boy chair in the living room. He watched as the girls began tearing open their stockings, shaking his head as he smiled to himself.

“Hey, don’t forget Santa left you a stocking too, Bobby,” you nodded, passing him the fabric stocking. You watched as Bob started opening it, the usual gifts you’d get for his stocking every year being stacked neatly on the table as he went through everything you’d gotten him. He stopped as he pulled out the last item, his blonde eyebrows arching slightly as he looked at it, turning it over in his hands. His eyes looked at you curiously, and his voice was reduced to a soft whisper as his cheeks flushed a soft pink hue.

“Darlin’...are you?” His sapphire blue eyes were full of hope and excitement as he looked at you, as if he was praying his guess about the little plastic stick in his stocking was right.

“I am,” you nod your head in confirmation as Bob gets up and wraps his arms around you tightly, his lips pressing to your forehead gently.

“You’re serious? We’re having another baby?” he whispered, unsure if he should say it too loudly, in case the twins got their hopes up about a new sibling.

“We sure are, darlin’”, you smirked, imitating Bob’s signature pet name for you.

Bob pulled you in tightly for a hug, his lips pressed to your cheek in a gentle, loving kiss. He whispered softly into your ear, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand on end as he spoke.

"Honey, you've made this the best Christmas morning I could have ever dreamed of."

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fic #bob top gun fic #bob floyd fluff #fluff #robert bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you

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cherubispunk · 4 months

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BARK! BITE! BLEED! (PART I) - FWB!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

summary: being without is always easier when you don't know what it is to be 'with'.

a note from Lucy: heyyyy! hows it going? yes...im back with another series. Those of you waiting for cherub, its coming. I promise. hand over my heart and the other on the bible. but words have a funny habit of not wording so...tale please take the humble peace offering of slutty fwb!frankie and please dont bite my fingers off.

playlist | moodboard

wc: 5742 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n, slight noncon voyeurism, thin appartment walls, mentions of cheating, obsessive behaviour, frankie is obsessed and it is very unhealthy, toxic relationships, heavy religious imagry (come on, is this even a surpise when it comes to my writing?), age gap but not bombastic sorry chloe (reader is 21, Frankie is 27) - though not mentioned in this part, graphic smut, could be considered dubcon, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (do i need to spell it out to you not to do this?), creampie, biting, its not vore!!!! but there is something inherrently sexual in the themes of metaphorical consumption, softdom!frankie, scratching, gore imagry in the sense of a hunter prey type of thing? More of lu being dell, batshit insane, blurting words onto a google doc and praying ot makes ense when being blasted out into the void.

series m.list | m.list

“At the end of the day, a dog that’s all bark and no bite is merely a bitch. True power lies in those who don't just bare their teeth, but make you bleed when they sink in.”

Frankie was a quiet man. He would always keep to himself. Never usually stuck his nose in anyone's business unless it was for their own good. Stayed in the four walls of his own apartment he rented close to the barracks. He’d made one friend in the entire complex. You. His next-door neighbour. The only thing he knew before prying was your last name on the buzzer out front. From there it was waiting. And watching. Frankie had an obsession with observing you from his kitchen window every time you came home from work at the bar. Stood in the shroud of shadow and sheer curtain. He dug his claws in and clung to each passing conversation in the hallway, or the laundromat down the street whenever coincidence let you pop up there too. Stored each part of you that you trusted him with in his mind for safekeeping. Often caught himself staring at a particular pair of red lace panties whenever you did your laundry.

There was one small, tiny little problem in all of this, however. Lisa. He supposed he should thank her really, because without her, he would have never moved out of the barracks in the hope of starting a life for them. He would have never met you. It was convenient, reasonably priced and he could excuse poor plumbing and heating for the fact it was close enough to his work that he didn't have to wake up any earlier than 5:30. But Lisa…oh, Lisa was Machiavelian. A conniving woman, with her heart set in thick ice, and a cold, unforgiving grip over what was hers. It made him wonder what he saw in her in the first place. Maybe he was blinded to everything but the curve of her face, or the pout of her mouth and the pant of his name as it passed her parted lips. Or there was some morbid fascination he had with her teeth as they bared to his skin and bit down. Tearing him to shreds. Either way, there was something to live for when being ripped apart by her. Something to distract from the sounds of pleasure that seeped through paper thin walls at night. Your pleasure. At the hands of a man he felt nothing compared to and knew nothing about. So he’d roll over and fuck out his frustration on the woman he hated but chose to stay with until she left him for another.

Another day, another ache. Another pain cramping in his lower back as Frankie inched closer to thirty and still no happier. Twenty-seven, a stable-ish job…and what else in life to show for it? He was bitter. In no place to want the company of another unless only for the night. Except tonight he was alone again, pressing his key into the lock, twisting it open, closing the door behind him. And then waiting…listening. Anticipating the drag of his hand south over the plane of his abdomen to under his boxers where he’d tease himself to the sound of you with another man. The pretty whimpers you’d let slip under the weight of another man's skin and bone, and the pleasure flooding the gaps of your synapses.

Only this time there were no cries for more. No whimpers, or moans. No. These sounds were shouts. And anger ignited you as you rampaged through your apartment on the other side of the wall, getting dressed as Mark, the man you’d wasted months on, chased after you in pursuit of your forgiveness.

“Who do you think I am?’ Frankie heard through the wall, pressing his ear to cold plaster with bated breath. Your voice was shrill, seething with the intent to carve into Mark’s skin with an onslaught of verbal mutilation. Have the words mark him with bleeding, weeping shame. “No, really? You think I’d never figure it out, Mark? Am I naïve to you?”

He slipped out of bed with careful stealth: Followed the sound of your voice through the wall, walking with his ear pressed to it before the sound of your front door opening made him jump, stepping back for a second. He blinked, once, twice…then raised his hands to plaster again and leaned closer, ears straining to hear what was now distance shrieking from the hallway outside. Which he followed to his front door. Listening intently behind the wood.

As he held his breath until his lungs burned in his chest, something flared up in Frankie. A desperate, wanting, starving need to swoop in. Be your knight in shining armour. The words were stuck in his throat, and if he wasn’t careful, they would choke him blue. But if he knew even a shred about you, it was that you’d hate that just as much as whatever it was Mark had done to you to have you tossing him out in the early evening. You were a private person. A woman who never appreciated prying ears or eyes. You avoided all his questions about your past whenever he asked. Swerved him off topic and into the hedgerow before he had a chance to blink and realise he had the backhand of whiplash. And if he let it slip once that the walls were thin, there was no telling where your quick mind would jump to next. Frankie never knew why or what made you so guarded. But he imagined one day you bit the hand of god and he stopped feeding you.

Frankie’s heart was thumping to the beat of his anxiety in his throat, making it harder to swallow the lump it formed, clammy palms pressed to the cool wood with the rest of him.

“You’re a sick man!” He heard, followed by a thumping of something being thrown, then a yelp out of Mark as Frankie guessed he was dodging whatever it was you threw his way. Shoes, maybe? Something else? “A coward! So get out. Don't call. Don’t come knocking. And tell your fucking wife!”

A shuffling of ashamed feet. A slam of your front door. Clattering around behind shared walls. Then silence.

It was five minutes of silence. But it felt like the seconds within those intervals were put on the rack and stretched in torture. Five minutes that he should have used to step back from his door but didn't. He just prayed there was more of you to have to himself for a second.

Then the descent of knuckles came beating down on his door. Causing his heart to jolt out in his chest then plummet into his stomach. Twisting his insides into knots that made him sick with intrigue. He took a step back. And a breath. Then waited a second before opening the door to find you stood there in a silly little lace hemmed tank top and sleep shorts. Your hair dishevelled and cheeks flushed. He opened his mouth to speak, but found the words stuck to the backs of his teeth and the roof of his mouth like soggy, claggy toffee. So he shut up, grateful you cut him off first.

“We’re having a bonfire. So whatever shit Lisa left here, bring it with you. My door will be open. I’ll be on my balcony.” And you left him with nothing but that. Stomping back down the hall in a flurry of your anger.

Frankie stood there, feet practically glued to the floor, fingers curling in on his palms as his blunt nails pressed into already calloused flesh. And an image of you, teeth bared to him like Lisa’s once were, appeared in his mind. An apparition of hurt, torment and his own vulnerability. But it was too late. His feet moved before his mind could and he was already collecting the things of his ex-girlfriend who had wronged him time and time again, stuffing them into his arms in a bundle of broken memory, anguish and lingering hurt.

He found you standing by a metal bin of a man's belongings. The odd t-shirt, pictures of your face next to his, smiles happy and bright with the joy of a relationship you never expected to cave in. In your hand was a packet of cigarettes you'd told him in the passing of a hallway’s conversation that you’d quit, but evidently not. And a crumpled, misshapen box of matches. In the other was a bottle of Whiskey. The brand Mark insisted on liking and you’d bought him for a birthday present. A present he’d never receive because he was as dead to you as the day was long.

“I thought you quit.” He said, trying to start a conversation that hit a dead end pitifully quickly.

“Toss it on.” You mumbled dismissively with a jerk of your head to the pile, eyes glued to Mark’s belongings, washing down your bitter words with an even more bitter swig of drink.

Frankie complied wordlessly from there, dumping the contents of his arms on top of the photos and clothes, stepping back while you poured a generous amount of the liquor on top. A seasoning of fuck you not farewell to the people you’d shared your life with and would thankfully never cross paths with again. He took the bottle from you when you pressed it into his chest, taking a drink and grimacing at the taste. It wasn't smooth. It was almost sour, with a kickback that burned too much to be pleasurable as it passed down the column of his throat in a thick swallow. His thoughts trickled in from there as he read the label and glanced at you. He wanted to get you drunk. Get you to slip up. Let yourself be taken for once.

You both watched, deadfaced, as you struck a match, used it to light a cigarette and then tossed it in the bin as memories curled up under heat. The alcohol setting the blaze up in a satisfying roar of good riddance.

He thought it was a little strange. How you’d come to him. Yes, you were friends. But the type of friend that only ever conversed between life events. In the empty limbo of hallways and laundromats. Not burning things on your balcony in the hope the heat will melt your heart back together, It was a little late for that. Stone doesn’t melt. And the two of you had hearts of set concrete from the turn of events you’d experienced. Encased in the cage of bone that would no longer open to another unless broken in two and forced apart. So you slid down the brick wall, knees bent to your chest while you smoked. The flame flickering a violent xanthous, ochre and scarlet.

He joined you on the floor, passing back the bottle. The two of you side by side, and it only just occurred to Frankie how lonely he was now. But how terrified of intimacy he was. Intimacy of a level deeper than skin/ The both of you wordless, silent as the decaying dead of night. Only the crackle of fire between you and a sniff for your nose as the evening air nipped it and made it run. So to distract yourself, you condemned your tongue to bad liquor, chasing it with a drag of your cigarette and a grimace,

“God, this is shit.” You scoffed.

“Not a hard liquor gal?” He chuckled, turning his head to glance at you out the corner of his eyes before the flame had his eyes attention again.

“More of a wine person, really. But even I can tell this is shit.” And you gestured to the bottle in your hand, reading over the label and sighing.

“Yeah,” he sighed, inflicting another taste upon himself when he took it out of your grasp. “It is.”

Silence again. Not awkward for you who preferred your own company to others, but for him, who had been watching you begging for an in, it was clawing at his insides like a starved animal would at the walls of its enclosure.

“So…” He drew out, and you had to bite back an amused smile.

“What?”

Frankie found himself staring in trance at your side profile, with the same fascination you honed in on the flickering flame. He thought in silence for a second. Asking himself the same question.

"How long did you date Mark for?" He asked. The name made him grimace as if it tasted sour in his mouth. Like he had to spit it out with disgust in every syllable for fear of it burning.

"Six months." Another awkward, off beat pause followed as he nodded. Then asked again.

“Did you love him?”

"No." You said flat out. But your words were honest and brutal to the man you let in then kicked out.

Frankie found himself suffocating a sigh of relief in his own ribs. They pinched slightly with an attempt of something profound to be felt. Like a child who had stumbled upon a strangely twisted shell at the beach. "Have you ever loved anyone?"

You turned to him, tilting your head. But Frankie couldn't tell if it was annoyance or respect for the bravery he had on asking you such personal questions. "What is this? Keeping Up With The Kardashians?"He held up his hands in quick defence, backing down.

“I’m just trying to get to know you.”

"There isn't anything to know except for the fact I'm pissed off." You muttered. “And I figured you would be too, considering the argument I heard a couple nights ago through the wall of my kitchen."

Frankie felt his face go pale, then heat up in the apples of his cheeks. "Oh. So you heard that?" The way your cigarette smouldered as you spoke was the only movement on the narrow balcony. So you did know the walls were thin. It made him wonder what else you knew. If you knew how he strained to listen through plaster and drywall each night.

"Oh, I heard it alright.” You smirked, finding sick pleasure in the way he seemed to squirm. “Something about Lisa finding you...'dull behind the eyes'." Frankie watched as you rolled your eyes and doubled back on your standing in the argument, "If you're going to insult someone, at least be creative about it. ``Give them a good reason to cut it loose." You were like a pendulum to him. But one that spun in clockwise, then anticlockwise circles, instead of oscillating back and forth. Unpredictable in a way that both horrified and intrigued him.

"Dull?" He had to laugh in disbelief, "I am not dull."

You smiled to yourself at that, leaning your head back against the brickwork. Ready to shatter his lie with a flick of your sharp tongue. "You are dull, Frankie. You get up. Go to work. Come back. You do your laundry every Sunday— and I know that because so do I. Your car is always in the exact same spot next to mine. Without fail. Now, you can put all down to ‘strict military regime’, but the bitter truth is," You looked him in the eye, your cig hanging from your lips as you showed him the satisfied grin pulling at your mouth, "you are dull. We all are. We work, we grind, we cry because we work. You ache to the marrow and you get stabbed in the back. And you're begging on your damn knees to bite the hand that feeds you. But if you do, then you starve.”

Frankie had never had his own fear served to him by such a beautiful devil before. And he wished, with all he had left in him that Lisa hadn’t taken or ruined, that you were wrong. It made him want to cave into himself to protect what little he had left. Snarl like a wounded bitch as he held back from others to lick his wounds. Maybe offer it to you and beg you to take it off his hands. But how could he argue when you were practically holding up a mirror to his own eyes? "I hate that you're right." He said in solemn downcast bereavement. And watched the cloud of smoke float silently in front of your face to obscure the very mouth that let him have it in such careful, exact slicing words. The blade of your knife was sharpened to a paper thin point. Now stained with his body’s red.

"There are very few things I'm wrong about. Regardless of that, it's a simple formula and easy to understand.”

“And what is it?” He asked, but regretted it for he knew his heart might not be able to take much more. Not that he showed it. This whole exchange his brow hadn’t folded into a single crease.

“Two things in life are certain: Death. And taxes. You work to pay your taxes, and you die from working."

"That's a pretty pessimistic way of looking at things."

"Life is pessimistic." You shot back with amusement, intently staring in a fixed trance at the pile of burning memories. The last warmth it offered was metaphorically and literally its own destruction. Irony, as Frankie pointed out to himself in his crawling mind. "It crucifies you, and burns you...until you curl in on yourself at the corners and turn to ash."

The conversation had reached a level of solemnity he hadn’t expected, but he’d be a liar if he didn't admit to sinking his claws in yet again. His teeth might come next if you gave him the sweet chance.

You were quiet after that. Both of you were. The remnants of a fire that symbolised how Mark was no longer relevant in your life, and neither Lisa in his. If he thought Lisa was machiavellian, the word had new meaning now. But like with her, it drew him in and snared him into blissful trance. It was the type of blind faith you pin to a deity in the sky. The type that you never see but are forced and gaslit into believing because it's shoved down your throat from a young age. You were not his savour. He knew that in the pit of his very existence, the eye of the storm in his gut.

He would be crucified by you.

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”

"Aw." You pouted in mock appreciation, pressing a hand to your chest. "Thank you."

Frankie afforded himself the pleasure of laughing at that. As cynical as it all was, it was real. You had just dared to say the quiet hushed parts out loud for him to digest. Though he felt like he was choking on it more than swallowing it. Regardless, he pushed it down to find confidence in himself and prod further.

“You keep doing that.”

“What?” “That.” Frankie pointed to all of you with a gesture absent of any direction, as if it was obvious. He watched as you tilted your head and scrunched your face a little. That crease in your brow…how it would haunt him in future. He felt like the prey. He was torn between wanting you to hunt him slowly so he could feel something at your hand, agony or not. Or asking you to do it quickly so he doesn't have to pursue through the bitter aftertaste.

“I’m not following.”

“You do this thing…where you turn conversations on their head. I feel like I'm getting whiplash.” He forced out a chuckle to make it seem like he was playing through with humour. But his words were genuine under the lace disguise of jest. You really did confuse him. You had his string of thought in knots. Complicated ones. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed at the question. “You’re trying to figure me out.”

“Why shouldn’t i?”

"Because I'm not the distraction you need." You bit, almost like a warning. And Frankie would have listened if he wasn't so hellbent on breaking in. No matter how hostile, how feral, he'd take the time to tame the caged, battered, abused animal.

“Maybe not.” He agreed, twisting his upper body to face you. It’s important to understand that what Frankie felt wasn’t love. At least, not how he’d experienced it in the past. This was an infatuation birthed by the fruit of lust forbidden to act upon until now. “But you’re the one I want.” With those words came a darkness in his eyes. The kind that reminded you of floods and tempests in biblical art. You were that tempest, with swollen grey clouds and a hammering of thunder ringing in his ears. Laughing as you crashed him onto rocks while he swam helplessly with little energy to the shore. Only to be shoved back with another crushing wave that cut through flesh and met bone with a chill like ice. “Just because we’re sad and miserable, doesn’t mean we have to give up a good time.” His instincts were buried before. Rolling in their grave at the chance to touch you. So he pressed his palms to the lid of the coffin and pushed. Reaching out to trace a delicate line along the angle of your jaw. His eyes were drawn to the soft plush of your lips and how they parted ever so slightly. “I want a distraction, baby.”

He had you where he wanted you. And the liquor mixing thick with your blood had inhibition slipping through your fingers. His breath was hot on your lips. Needy to be paid attention to.

“Would it be worth my while?” You challenged, ignoring eye contact for now. Instead looking to his lips for the lies.

“You don’t think I could satisfy you?” He smirked, lifting your chin with a single thick finger curled underneath and the pad of his thumb swiping slowly over your bottom lip. “I’ll do better than anyone else could.”

“Sounds like an awful lot of confidence you have there. At the end of the day, a dog that’s all bark and no bite is just a bitch.”

Frankie chuckled at that. A deep rumble that rattled the bones that protect the hollow hole in his chest. “Come on…let me have a taste.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He took the silence and the glimmer of ‘i dare you’ in your eyes, pressing his lips to yours to consume you. Devour you whole. They took their time in sinking together and suctioning your lower lip into his mouth. Then his tongue dared to venture forward past parted lips to lick into your mouth and taste the backs of your teeth.

First, you let go of trepidation to take a hold of him. The roots of his hair and the back of his neck, fingers curled like talons. After, you let go of all else. The thoughts scratching the back of your skull, the headache that blistered before by the inferno calmed down and you were forced to focus on him alone as he took a handful of your hips and lifted you up to his lap to roll into him like a steady tide.

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt to your room, clothes left in a scattered flurry along the way. Breadcrumbs to pick up later and either regret or laugh at. He unhinged your jaw to let slip your airy moan as his hands travelled south to meet the seam of your cunt. All else fell into place when he circled your clit with two fingers to start the first loop of the knot in your belly. A warmup for the act of sin, and need, and wanting. Whatever god there was should have never been prayed to in the first place. And Frankie knew it now that he was damned to hell from the first parting of your thighs for his wandering hand. His teeth were ready for sinking as he gathered your legs and hooked them over his shoulders to walk open mouthed, spit decorated kisses down the trunk of your navel. Pressing his nose into your mound. The must of your cunt making his eyes light up as he stared at the bob of your throat when you swallowed sharply. Head rolled back to the pillow. His tongue glided into your folds for the first lick. Making a hot wet stripe of a path from your asshole to your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to circle it and glide lover to curl into your quivering hole. Drawing out the taste. The beckoning gesture of his tongue gathering your taste in his senses. A thumb following suit to roll the bud of your clit under it, his nose clumsy as it bumped into it too. Obsessing over the tang of your arousal, thick in shine over his lips the scruff of his chin.

Your thighs clamped over his ears that were red. The heat made your own skin burn. Dark curls of his hair whispering against their insides as he continued to devour you from the seam. And your orgasm– it burned bright after the first fizzle. Made your eyes scrunch closed as he pulled it from you with hand and tongue. What was used for his words had yours spilling from parted lips like a puppet. A vessel for him to carry pleasure through. It had you toppling over into oblivion. The abyss.

With bones brittle and hollowed like a bird you were fine to be dead weight as he ascended your body again. Folding you in half with your legs still bent over his shoulders. He traced the jut of your collarbone with the blunt edges of his teeth. How he wished they’d be sharp to sink deeper. But you were grateful as it would be easier for him to not draw blood and see the inside of you ran red like all the others. It was easy to not be human. It was easy to not show emotion and weakness.

“Feel that?’ he panted against your goosebump pebbled skin, and you nodded. You did. It was the promise to feel desired and not broken. And not maimed beyond repair by another person you let in. Another person you built yourself up to prepare to love, to only have the rug pulled from under your feet and the brickwork clatter to the ground. It was the same promise to him. And the desire that ran thick in his blood made his pulse thrum heavy under its weight. Its intrusion hot under his lust scorched skin.

“Yeah.”

“Imma make it go away for you, baby.” he promised with a kiss to the hollow of your throat below its column, between your clavicle. And it was anything but empty. It was full. And round, and swollen with something deeper in his ribs that ached to be let loose. Breathed to fill you too. “I’ll make it all go away.”

His hips pressed flush to yours and the drag of neatly groomed hair sent a shockwave through your clit and up your rattling spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae. Setting off blazing fireworks in your mind for just a second before he started a slow drag. It was a stretch that stung. But pain was comfort if it had pleasure hot on its heels like an obedient dog. Ironic how you feared men like him, who seemed so eager to please and let themselves in uninvited. But you took it willingly this time because you needed to forget for a single second about the heart that bled under flesh and bone in the cage of your ribs.

His cock was thick, full and curved up into the part of you that you couldn't have reached even if you tried. He slotted into your heat like he was meant to stay there. And that alone made you want to scream for him to give in and not relent so you could be ignorant to the way it seemed divine. The roll of his hips kicked up in pace and soon he was hunched over you. Strong arms rippled with muscle from brutal training since the age of eighteen bracing himself on either side of your head. The feeling of him curling his hips into you made you burn. It sent a tumble of a moan from your lips through the breathless pant of his name. A name he never thought you'd call in the tangle of your sheets. But the burning need to give you what he had wanted all this time ate at him. It ripped the flesh fresh off his bone and left him bleeding into you.

Frankie’s eyes misted over when the chain that hung from his neck slipped over your chin and you bought the metal of his dog tags between your teeth. Biting down. It feels better biting down anyway. And the cool of the metal on your hot tongue made your head swim. Looking him in his eyes and daring him deeper. So his lips pressed into a firm line, and your nails raked down his back to leave raised red lines in their wake. Tracing new paths over the old map of scar tissue. Marking new land and territory. The air between you hung heavy with the heat of exhales. And blew with the shared moan you indulged in when it coiled in your belly. The cradle of your hips accommodated his cock as it stretched the tightness of your walls. Your slick arousal giving way to fluidity of otherwise rabid motion. Starving.

When on his tongue, you were alive. Inside you he breathed again with the clutch of your cunt around him. Warm and beating, and thrumming quickly like a hummingbird's wings. A squatter temporarily camped up in the crack between two ribs. Where thick muscle shuddered with breath. You believed something in you was worth loving. But you also knew for it to be found you'd have to be flayed alive.

The crash of his hips into yours aided in the symphony of sex, and filled the four walls painted but void of personal belongings. If he were on the other side of them he'd be jealous. But now he was here, he was alive. Beating hearted and thriving. And any god, saint, angel or divinity could watch and weep as he finally had what he wanted. What he might have needed in order to restore his humanity that lay dormant for so long. He was trying to crack you open so he could lick up what lay inside you. Gather it up in his arms like the greedy wolf, lambs gore, blood and flesh, between fangs of his lower jaw. Have the muscle pulsing between his teeth. But he wouldn't. So for now he'd settle for the flesh on show. The mound of your panting breast that he pressed into his open mouth. The flat of his tongue pressing greedily to your nipple. Before his lips pinched together and pulled the left pert. Switching to do the same for the right. Not leaving an inch of you untouched. Because he had his chance now. And who knew when he'd get another. So he relished in what he was spared and he would take it with him to the grave. Dream of it on his deathbed if this killed him. Or if something else did. Regardless. This would run through his mind until his last heavy and troubled breath.

“That's it.” he murmured into your breast. “Take it. Take it, baby. Take me..”

Your back arched, strung tight like a bow ready to fire. Spine curled up into the heat of his mouth and he bit down again on the swell of your breast. Wanting to take its entire weight into his mouth and have it rot and smear into his tongue. The fizzle of nerve endings reached the tips of your curling toes. The heels of your feet digging into the planes of his scapula to press him closer in the burning of your young orgasm.

“Come on. Let me see you come.” Frankie demanded in a breathless growl as he stared you down with his eyes. The hue of his irises almost devoured by black of pupil. Your jaw unhinged to let rip a silent scream. Feeling that sharp coil snap, and a numbness fill your aching core before your toes curl in pleasure. He helped you ride it out with his cock fucking into your tight weeping cunt while you sang out his name in a chorus of moans, whimpers and cries. Letting go utterly as a rush filled you, lighting you up like dry kindling under your skin. The pulsating of your walls around his length had his hips faltering for just a moment, twitching within your sopping cunt. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he let out a deep guttural groan, closing in on skin with teeth again. Spilling inside you, the mix of your slick with his cum painting you white like the searing heat of pleasure between you. He leaves the last of his load with you by fucking it deeper. Three, sharp, punctuated thrusts.

He lay flat above you while he awaited the comedown from his catharsis. The tingle down his spine sputtered out in a haze of slowburn afterglow. Eyes closed and face buried into the crook of your perspiring neck. Panting together. Hit tongue forgot for a second to shape your name the way it sounded, but with a sharp inhale, the air surged his mind.

“I suppose this is the part where I leave?” He mumbled, pulling back from your skin. His time had come and ended. The two of you now sat back to the world of hallway and laundromat limbo. He sighed through his nose when you nodded. And he did the same, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Frankie gathered his clothes up, putting them on slowly one by one. Drawing out the ache of being alone again by lingering in your presence.

“Come back tomorrow.” You said. Not asked. He nodded, still facing the door. Then twisted the handle and left an empty space in your apartment where he had once been.

#pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie triple frontier #frankie morales fanfic #bark!bite!bleed!

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g1rld1ary · 3 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy ; anthony lockwood x reader (part 2)

➻ i'm a big valentine's fan can you tell... (also thank u sm for 20 followers?! in like a week or 2?!!!)

➻ word count: 2008

➻ synopsis: you're at Fittes' Valentine's Day ball with Lockwood but things don't go quite as you intend. maybe all that's needed for the both of you to confess is some good old-fashioned jealousy

➻ warnings: ooc + villain kipps, kissing without consent + implications of sexual assault (just kissing), swearing, angst + fluff

➻ (part one here)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Lockwood thought he’d never seen someone more stunning. He knew you were beautiful — he’d spent enough hours staring at you in Arif’s to deduce that fact, but this was the first time he’d ever seen you not in your work uniform and your practical tied-back hairstyles.

Now, though, you were on a whole new level. Your red dress was simple but classic, grazing the floor beneath your white heels. The red spaghetti straps were hidden by your hair, extending past your shoulders in gentle waves, a frilly white barrette keeping it out of your face. Lockwood was, very unusually, completely lost for words.

“You look…” He stuttered, grappling for any words that could encapsulate the feelings in his heart.

“You’re a total knockout,” Lucy interrupted, and Lockwood nodded, grateful for the words supplied. Even George looked mildly impressed, which you took over the exasperated expressions you got when you were serving him at work. Truthfully, the source of those looks was usually Lockwood and his habit of abandoning work the moment you entered his periphery, but George wasn’t above lightly blaming you for it.

You kept Lockwood & Co meeting your family to an absolute minimum, but still not short enough to avoid your mum giving you several pointed looks.

“He’s cute,” She mouthed and you flushed almost the same colour as your dress. You tried to shut her up before anyone noticed and you thought you’d succeeded, but Lucy’s teasing eyebrow raise had you burying your head in your hands.

Soon as you could you’d ushered Lockwood & Co out of your house, waving goodbye to your parents and trying to silence all their embarrassing conversation by talking louder to your friends. Lockwood, much to your chagrin, was extremely fond of them and had made premature plans to see them again, delighting in your embarrassment at their insistence of telling childhood stories.

Still, you arrived at the Fittes building far too quickly for your liking, and you subconsciously grabbed onto Lockwood’s arm to keep him close. He looked down at you, eyes soft as they searched yours. He gave a quick pat to the arm holding his, offering you silent support.

“It’ll be fun, hey? Promise if it sucks we can ditch whenever you like — I doubt George will last that long anyway.” You nodded in response, not trusting your voice not to waiver.

You looked around in wonder as you entered the great hall where the ball was being held. It was decked out in red and pink, hearts and cherubs tastefully adorning each surface. You were astounded by the opulence of not only the room but its inhabitants. All of the agents invited were similarly dressed up to the nines, though you personally didn’t think anybody compared to Lockwood in his perfectly tailored suit.

The four of you wandered around the party for a while, and you were admittedly shocked at Lockwood’s charm and easy conversation. You knew he was a good talker — you’d been told off a ridiculous amount of time at the store because Lockwood had kept you entranced with a story or a joke, but he could seemingly keep an endless conversation with anyone he came across regardless of their age or occupation. You followed him around like a lost puppy, smiling nicely when you made eye contact and giving your name when someone cared enough to ask. The moments you liked the most though were between the endless list of people to greet, where Lockwood would crane his neck down to whisper what he really thought about the previous acquaintances and you could make a joke in return.

You were surprised by someone calling your name. “You look stunning tonight.” The voice belonged to Quill Kipps. You smiled at him, paying him a compliment in return. You rather liked Kipps — you knew there was some rivalry between him and Lockwood but it was frankly none of your interest or business, and Kipps had always been perfectly lovely to you. You could feel Lockwood glowering beside you and sighed, hoping there wouldn’t be a confrontation in the middle of a ball. Though you couldn’t say you minded the protective — and maybe slightly possessive — arm he’d snaked around your waist, holding you closer to him and further from Kipps.

You made slight smalltalk with him, but the conversation was short lived since neither boy was prepared to speak any kindness to the other. You waved softly as Kipps promised to see you later, and you scolded Lockwood when you were out of his earshot.

“Today is a day all about love and you’re staring down Kipps! What is that all about?”

“I can tell you our tragic angsty backstory later, love, do you want to dance?” You thought Lockwood was smarter than he was sometimes given credit for as that was possibly the most effective redirection tactic he could have tried, and you were soon on the dance floor together, swaying softly to the cheesy, old fashioned love songs that had been playing all night.

You couldn’t believe what was happening to you. Firstly that Lockwood had asked you here at all; it was your first time seeing each other out of the confines of the cafe and it was all going so well — the two of you got on like a house on fire. Secondly, that you were then slow dancing with him. His hands sat on your waist, warm against the silky fabric of your dress. In turn, yours wrapped around his neck, and neither of you could contain your smiles. You thought in the back of your head, trying not to jinx it, that he might even try to kiss you — and you doubted you would say no to him.

You’d settled into a comfortable silence, dancing amongst the sea of couples, and you wondered if Lockwood was having the same thoughts you were. You didn’t get the opportunity to ask him, though, as George and Lucy were at your side, raving about some high level agency figure that they were desperate to meet. You saw the way Lockwood’s eyes lit up at the name drop and drew your hands back, not wanting to be the reason he gave up an important introduction.

He hesitated for a moment, looking at you. You gave him a soft smile, encouraging him to leave.

“C’mon, Lockwood! Your sappy slow dance can wait, when are we going to get this opportunity again?” George whined and you both flushed at that — any romance sucked out of the mood. Lucy smacked him in the side but the moment was gone, Lockwood holding back a groan.

“What about you go get us some drinks while we do this and we’ll be back before you know it,” Lockwood suggested and you nodded, trying to look cool and unaffected. You said a quick goodbye before you split away from the group, heading to the other side of the ridiculous foyer.

You went to the bathroom, taking full advantage of the luxurious facilities and making extremely awkward eye contact with a woman in the mirror as you washed your hands, shrinking as you noticed how much more glamorous she was.

With Lockwood you felt like you somewhat belonged, his touch grounding you and dissolving a large part of your nerves. But now he was gone, and you felt terribly alone and like everyone who looked at you could tell you weren’t supposed to be here.

Those were your musings as you made your way to the drinks table, intending to make one for Lockwood and yourself as you’d promised. A hand laid on your shoulder from behind you, making you jump slightly.

“I meant what I said before,” Kipps said, turning you gently to face him. “You really look amazing tonight, but you do every day.”

“Oh.” You blushed, “Thank you, Quill. That’s very kind of you.”

“Care for a dance?”

“Uh, I don’t know if—” Your protests were ignored as you were swept up in his arms, limbs stiff from your discomfort. He kept trying to make conversation but you weren’t much use, suddenly uncomfortable with someone you were used to calling a friend.

“I really like you,” Kipps said and your mouth dropped open.

“Have you been drinking?” You asked, trying to ease yourself out of his grip — unsuccessfully.

“Only a little. For confidence. Look, I want to be with you, for you to be mine. What do you think?” You could feel the colour drain from your face, your feet faltering beneath you.

“Quill, you’re really lovely and all but —” He was kissing you. Why was Kipps kissing you? And why couldn’t you get him to let go?

“Lockwood!” You heard Lucy call behind you, and you managed to wrench yourself away from Kipps long enough to see Lockwood storming out of the hall. Panicking, you shoved Kipps away, pushing through the crowd to try and find the boy you’d arrived with.

The winter air outside was aggressive and sent goosebumps up your uncovered arms but you disregarded it, catching up to Lockwood.

“It wasn’t what it looks like, Lockwood, I promise!” Lockwood whipped around to face you, coattails flying with the wind. For a moment he looked frightening and you faltered slightly, shrinking back from him.

“Wasn’t what it looks like? So you weren’t just making out with the only person I really hate? While you were here with me? Yeah, right,” He said, breathing ragged. You hated seeing him angry, you just wanted to hold his face and explain everything, but you figured he wouldn’t be very receptive to it right now. “And to think I really thought I had a chance.” You didn’t hear what was whispered under his breath, your own temper bubbling after being yelled at so unjustly.

“God, Lockwood, can you get your head out of your arse for one second? Do you really think this is how I wanted the evening to go? Being felt up by Kipps because he’s had too many drinks to realise he’s not the guy I like?” You could see Lockwood’s eyes soften a bit, his guilt flaring up. “Yeah, not plan A. All night I have felt stupid and out of place in this big fancy ball and I was fine with it because at least I was here with you, but now you’re yelling at me and acting like you’re the one that’s been hurt, all because you’re jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? I—” He spluttered, but you weren’t finished.

“Clearly you are jealous of something — why else would you be acting so childish?”

“Fine!” He yelled, “I am jealous! I’m jealous of Kipps because I’ve been trying to work up the courage to kiss you all night after pining for you for months. I’m jealous because I like you so much that I can’t stop thinking about you and George is sick of hearing about you and—”

“Lockwood?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” You cupped his cheeks, pressing your lips to his. What you meant as a quick show of affection and method of stopping Lockwood’s rambling quickly turned into something more, something hungrier as Lockwood brought you into him. Whilst Kipp’s arms around you were threatening, restricting, Lockwood’s were warm, comforting, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, adding as much intensity as the both of you could handle.

Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of a salt bomb and pulled away enough to laugh against Lockwood’s lips.

“You did not just fight a ghost while we were making out,” You giggled, pressing another peck which he chased after hungrily.

“Can’t have you getting ghost-touched when I’ve finally got you in my arms.” You both smiled, lacing your hands together as you prepared to go sort out the mess that had been left behind.

You supposed your Valentine’s Day had turned out alright after all.

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melon4brian · 3 months

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I'm sorry if I redesigned Alastor I had to do the same at less to Lucifer... like don't get me wrong but the fact that Luci is dress like every other sinner is so weird to me all the men are dress the same just different colors😭

In my redesign I made a biblically accurate cherub, which are the highest ranking angels with 4 face, a human face, a lion, a ox, and a duck (in the Bible it eagle but I made it a ducky)

I want to make his outfit look lil more royalty, and classy. I wanted his horns to be visible to represent his ox, and I made his hair long to and wavy to look almost like a lion's mane and of course his wings being duck wings :3

I keep him being shorter than the whole cast cuz ngl... that was my favorite part of him and we love a short king

(Bones lil Charlie design)

#redesign hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #redesign lucifer #lucifer redesign

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prof-ramses · 2 months

Note

I’ve been compiling a bunch of random headcanons & theories regarding the Sins. Just a heads up, it’s going to be kind of a long list:

Like Lucifer and his family, the Sins have surnames. The only exception is Mammon, whose legal name is ‘Mammon TM’, for branding purposes.

I don’t know if it’s been confirmed if the Sins are Hellborn or not, but I like to think that the Hellaverse sort of draws from Paradise Lost in that they were originally angels loyal to Lucifer before getting the boot after the stunt Luci and Lilith pulled in Eden. This would effectively make them the first sinner demons, which could be used to explain why sinners rank so high on Hell’s hierarchy.

Working off of the above, I thought it would be funny if Leviathan was originally a cherub prior to falling, either looking like some form of small fish or maybe even a prawn. Over the course of thousands of years living in Hell, he slowly grew into the titan of the deep he is in the present.

Speaking of Levi, I’ve mulled over what we discussed the other day, and I can picture him being the designated “creepy one” of the group. After all, still waters often have terrible and dangerous things lurking just below the surface. Given there is a lot of talk of Levi being a surfer dude, I feel like the thin veneer of a beach bum barely conceals something much darker. Everything he says and does just has this edge to it, which is just reinforced given he’s a massive sea serpent. Is his personality and use of surfer slang an act? Is it genuine? No one knows.

I like to think all of the Sins can naturally fly, regardless of whether or not they have wings. The only reason they (barring Luci and Bee) don’t regularly use this particular ability is a matter of practicality. Continuing this thought, I like the idea of them leaving trails when they fly, sort of like the Night Entities from Orion and the Dark. Like, Mammon leaves a trail of currency symbols, Bee’s trail resembles honey being applied by a bony wand, Satan leaves a trail of smoke and volcanic ash, etc.

Mammon is ridiculously agile, acrobatic, and can scale walls like Spider-Man. Most people don’t realize this given how he prefers to just teleport everywhere to get around.

While Wrath’s culture (when not geared towards agriculture) is centered around conflict, specifically martial conflict, I can easily picture Satan as trying to create conflict of all kinds. I mean, just imagine this giant, draconic demon cowboy/gym rat hopping on an internet forum or comment section just to start a flame war and watch the chaos unfold. This even extends to the other Sins, as he’ll just say or do minor shit to rile the others up.

I was thinking about your interpretation of how Belphagor and Baphomet could pan out and how Bel is fixated on efficiency. I feel that an outsider looking in would wonder why a laidback (and morally questionable) woman of science like Bel would go for a peppy and inviting guy like Baph, the answer being he’s efficient. Very efficient. The guy runs the ring and likely does far more behind the scenes, all the while finding time to keep a stable relationship with his wife, maintaining the Sloth ring’s facade of being a placid vacay spot, and being something of a large scale host and possible tour guide to people that come to Sloth to relax and likely roping them into/abducting some of them for his wife’s sketchy practices. Bel finds this workaholic level of efficiency very attractive.

When Charlie was little and the Sins took turns babysitting her, Satan and Belphagor were the only ones to actually dislike the duty. Satan didn’t want a kid around cramping his style & cutting into his workout regimen and Bel felt taking care of a child wouldn’t be conductive to her research & refused to let Baph watch her because it would cut into his carefully planned work schedule. This isn’t to say they don’t love their niece, they just aren’t the kind of people that want to deal with kids.

I’ve seen a lot of people joke about what’s under Mammon’s jester cap and my theory is that he basically has a bunch of spider legs growing out of his head like this:

Mammon’s “head legs” are probably one of the few things he’s actually self conscious about.

Given it’s been confirmed Bee’s stomach basically digests everything she eats almost immediately, I like to think that her weight and build actually fluctuates based on how much collective ambient gluttony is in a given area. In places/times where the majority of people feel gluttonous, she starts gaining weight, while gluttony being at its lowest causes her to start wasting away.

I remember you once suggested Andrealphus was incapable of having kids, hence Stella was born to keep the bloodline going and possibly try and climb the social ladder. It actually gave me the idea that Mammon is incapable of having kids of his own, hence his fixation on becoming a step-dad. With this in mind, I can picture his clown pageant being his way, through the lens of greed, of getting his own step-child, with the added bonus of getting a face for his brand. It’s debatable whether or not the thought of just adopting a kid ever crossed his mind.

The above point could also cause some Golden Goose angst.

I get the show kinda debunked the fanon idea of Lucifer playing the accordion, but I’m just going to ignore that in favor of a long-standing headcanon I’ve had. In essence, I thought it would be funny if Luci was a fan of polka to the point he actually made the other Sins learn how to play instruments traditionally used to play polka so they could all perform together. The others all hated it, but after Lilith left and they tried to get Luci out of his funk, they repeatedly offered to perform with him to no avail.

Continuing the music ideas, I can picture Bel being a fan of EDM.

As a testament to the Sins sheer level of power, if sufficiently motivated to do so they can actually reshape and restructure their respective domains. This naturally causes near incalculable damage and upheaval, while taking a lot out of them.

At some point early into Hell’s existence, Lucifer just kinda… snapped. He became a cruel tyrant that lined up more closely to traditional depictions of the devil, while Lilith and the Sins were at their all time worst as people. After several thousands of years of unspeakable evil, Lucifer and the others eventually grew out of their “tyrant phase”, eventually becoming who they are in canon. The event that got Lucifer, Lilith and the Sins to change (to varying degrees) for the better? Charlie’s birth.

I get that this is a lot and that your schedule has been thrown out of wack, but inspiration hit me like a speeding truck. Hope you like some of these.

Oh, I have a TON of thoughts about these! So, I'll spread out me responses in a 1 to 1 pattern

I always liked the idea of the Sins having full names, and the TM is perfect to Mammon

While I don't know if we'll ever get confirmation one way or the other, the Sins will, to me, always be found siblings who were once Heavens greatest circus before they were outcast for standing by their leader.

My design idea for Levi range from having transparent skin, to being partial rotted (like those videos of bottom feeders picking apart whale bodies). I'll be talking more about Levi's appearance in it's own post

At this point I'm starting to think the surfer thing is something the fandom gaslight itself with, because I can't find anyone genuinely claiming any such content was leaked. Personally, I see Levi as more of a sleazy editor/publisher, running the non-Pride news channels and most of Hell's print media. So basically, J. Jonnah, but he's a giant glowing eel.

I also think all the Sins have magical flight, but I also think that, like how Ozzie can manifest as a flame, Mam can manifest and move around as a lightning bolt.

YES! I love acrobatic Mam headcanons! My idea of him having needle like feet and his curly shoes being padded actually works really well with that. He can be very graceful when he wants to be.

Yeah, I think Satan would likely have a formalized way of doing this too, like, at some point personally declaring one side of a flame war the winners.

Yep, that's Bel and Baph in a nutshell. A lot of the mannerisms I envision for Baphomet come from the gag of Captain Fun and Activity Boy from the Jack Frost 2. (Look it up)

Again, I totally agree, I actually have a lot to say about Charlie and Bel's relationship, but that's for another time.

I like to think Mam has hair made of static electricity, it tingles to the touch, much like his webs.

Bee's consumption of emotions being what actually affects her body is a new idea to me, but one I love. Also kind of gives the impression she eats actual food mostly for the sensation of eating, which works pretty well.

My idea is that Mam can have kids, but always wanted it to be with someone he was absolutely sure about. However, Stella's trauma with essentially being forced to have Via gives him pause, it's a touchy subject for both of them.

Hah, nice. Also, I just leave this here, before rock existed, Mam was mostly into and performed opera.

Yeah, EDM is a good fit for Bel.

Oh, that's a new one for me. It's great! Might actually have a somewhat similar idea in the works....

This one I don't really jive with. I don't really like the idea of Charlie sparking all the Sins' character growth, but I do think they've all gone through a lot of "phases".

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daughter-of-melpomene · 1 month

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𝐑𝐄-𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈𝐕𝐘 𝐊𝐄𝐊𝐎𝐀

❝ Ivy was well aware that she wasn't the only victim of bullying at McKinley High, but she was also well aware that, unlike most of her fellow victims, she'd never exactly done much to try to blend in. An outspoken feminist who frequently swore in Hawaiian, dressed in a style that was entirely unusual for such a small town as Lima, Ohio, and spent most of her time writing songs and dreaming of being on the Broadway stage, she was prime fodder for cutting words from McKinley's famous Cheerios and facefulls of slushies from the knuckle-dragging jocks, but she always did her best to try and ignore all that. Someday, she knew, she'd get out of this small-minded little town, land a starring role on the Great White Way, and then none of those future gas station attendants would ever have the right to sneer at her again.

And then one day, she'd spied a sign-up sheet that would forever alter her life. After being persuaded by her best friend Mercedes to join Mr. Schuester's new glee club, Ivy had been determined to finally prove to McKinley High's assholes that she was destined for greater things than any of them - and, hopefully, show up her longtime rival Rachel Berry along the way. Instead, she'd gained a few friends, her relationship with Rachel had mellowed if it hadn't exactly turned friendly, and she found she no longer cared half as much about proving herself.

But that was sophomore year. Now a junior, Ivy, along with the rest of the New Directions, is right back to being at the bottom of McKinley's food chain, ridiculed and slushied as often as she's looked at. But there is something different about this year. This year, McKinley has a new student, Sam Evans, who, in addition to being infuriatingly good-looking and sweet, can sing like the stupid blond cherub he is. And, perhaps most surprisingly, he seems interested in Ivy.

Ivy has always sworn, to herself and anybody who would listen, that she'll never date a jock or cheerleader as long as she lives. But Sam really is sweet... and maybe the two of them just might be able to make a perfect harmony. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @manyfandomocs.)

#my ocs #reintroducing my ocs #ch: ivy kekoa #oc: ivy kekoa #fic: let me be your star #queerocs #ocapp #ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fyeahgleeocs #glee oc

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haystarlight · 18 days

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I think it was obvious from the start the issue was never overpopulation in the first place.

If it was about overpopulation, the angels would be doing way more than just exterminating sinners. They'd be trying to take action to stop humans from dying (or "falling to temptation") so new sinners wouldn't arrive in Hell. They'd be regulating the amount of children hellborns (imps, succubi, hellhounds, etc.) are allowed to have.

You know all that stuff real world countries do when they deal with overpopulation? Stop new people from immigrating in and regulate the amount of new babies being born? Because obviously in the real world an "extermination" like the kind Heaven does in Hazbin Hotel is not a thing you're supposed to do. It's literally a genocide, that's a word that Charlie herself uses. It's fucked up.

Anyway, also. If overpopulation was the real issue, then Charlie's plan of sending sinners to heaven would be a short term solution anyway. Cause eventually if people keep dying and dying then Heaven would become overpopulated too and now both places are overpopulated and everyone is mad. It's not a long term solution.

Also, I guess maybe they could've said that only the Pride Ring suffers from overpopulation and that's why they only attack Pride? But then just open up the other Rings so sinners are allowed to live in the other Rings and Pride has less citizens!!

(I did think the fact that sinners are restricted to only one Ring to be stupid anyway but I think it's cause Lucifer is only king of Pride and the sinners are Lucifer's subjects and the other 6 deadly sins don't rule over sinners, they rule over the hellborn. And yes, in Helluva Boss, I see that the characters don't really seem to care about Heaven as much as in Hazbin Hotel. Like the CHERUBS are a thing but the imps do not give a shit about the stupid CHERUBS so they must not care about Heaven in general either)

So maybe Heaven's just using the extermination as another punishment for Luci and Lili. Or, well , to stop sinners from rebelling against Heaven. And obviously, now that the extermination is a thing, they can't allow sinners into Heaven because they fear that if a sinner goes to Heaven they'll tell the Heaven citizens about the extermination. Which yeah, I'm sure we'll see that happen in season 2.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel discussion #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss theory #helluva boss thoughts #long post #sorry for the long post #hellaverse

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sassykattery · 2 years

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What would the Obey Me characters have you or your OC/MC listed as your contact name? Feel free to play along!

Contact names for Altaira (my oc):

Lucifer: My Love💝

Mammon: Bestie

Levi: Player 2

Satan: LOML

Asmo: 💄🛍

Beel: Salty Alty

Belphie: Pillow Pet

Diavolo: My Wife❤😍🥰

Barbatos: Miss A

Simeon: Sweetness

Solomon: Experiment 666

Luke: Smarties

My OC's contact names for the OM! Characters:

Lucifer: Luci Baby❤️‍🔥

Mammon: Bestie

Levi: Player 1

Satan: Sherlock Holmes

Asmo: Fashionista

Beel: Teddy Bear

Belphie: Blanket Stealer

Diavolo: SUGAR DADDY😍😘🤑🥵💖💫

Barbatos: Chef Barb

Simeon: Sweet Angel

Solomon: Mad Scientist

Luke: Cherub

@pandasfoxes05 let's see what you got! And anyone else who wants to try, go for it!

#obey me #obey me memes #obey me crack #obey me imagine #obey me contact names

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keets-writing-corner · 2 months

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YOOO IT'S HERE THE FIC i MADE at least chapter 1 anyways

read it on A03

here's a smol preview

“Sera! Sera! Sera!” Lucifer flew circles around the sleeping seraphim. “It’s today! Come on come onnnnn!” he tugged at her. The cloud she was laying on fluttered with his commotion.

“Luci…” she groaned, “it’s not for another few hours.”

“Don’t you want to get good seats?”

Sera glared at him playfully through her locks, “Lucifer, we’re literally the highest ranking angels, nobody is going to take our seats.”

“Alriiiiiight…” Lucifer landed on the floor and started taking extremely slow steps towards an archway. “I’m going to go get some cloudflakes by myself then.”

Sera’s eyes shot open.

“Maybe they’ll even run out, I am really excited after all. I could probably eat the whole stock.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sera finally sat up in the bed now.

Lucifer grinned at her, and flared his wings open to take off as fast as he could.

Sera opened her wings and took off first, rushing past him.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Lucifer jumped in the air after her, pumping his wings as fast as he could to catch up to her.

The two rushed through and around heaven, disturbing the cloud formations, and making some other angels stumble as they rushed past. The morning breeze was fresh and crisp on their faces. As Lucifer got closer to Sera, she started doing corkscrews to throw him off. He quickly followed suit, not being deterred at all.

The two danced around each other as they raced towards the stall with the flakes that Sera loved.

Sera could see it in the distance, the two were closing in.

“You know, Sera,” Lucifer showed up next to her, laying on his back in the air, hands behind his head as if flying this fast was effortless even though his wings were flapping so fast they were all but a blur, “you would fly faster if you were closer to my size,” he teased.

“Hey!” Sera exclaimed as he took off in front of her and she tried flapping her wings harder to catch up, but it was in vain. In spite of her best efforts he beat her to the stall, and the cherub there handed him the largest tray of the cloud flakes.

Lucifer took a handful, and then passed the tray over to her, “Hey, second place isn’t so bad,” he winked at her.

Sera was out of breath, “You stinker!” she took the tray from him, “I knew you weren’t going to eat all of them, you would never!”

Lucifer shrugged, and ate one of the flakes he had, “But I couUuld!” he said singsong. He then flapped his wings in order to fly up and kiss her forehead.

“Cheeky,” Sera rolled her eyes at him before reaching with her hand, cupping the back of his head and pulling him into a full on kiss. “There was literally no reason for us to get up this early.”

Arms still wrapped around her shoulders, Lucifer raised an eyebrow at her, “I refuse to believe that you could sleep in and not even be the least bit excited,”

Gadreel, the cherub, looked up from his stall, “Gee golly, is today the day you’re going to put the humans you’ve worked so hard on into Eden?”

Lucifer nodded enthusiastically while Sera quite calmly affirmed, “Yes it is.”

Lucifer flew down to Gadreel, “It’s going to be so amazing! I can’t wait for the humans to see it! I hope they love it!”

Gadreel nodded, “I can’t wait to see it! You all created so many cool things for Eden.”

“Can you imagine all the things that could happen?” Lucifer gushed, “They’re going to grow and learn and love and see the world and-,” out of sheer excitement his wings started fluttering so fast he nearly shot straight into the sky.

Sera caught him by the leg, “Tone it down, Luci,” she laughed, “You’re going to launch yourself into space again.”

He took a breath and calmed his flapping before turning to defend himself, “That only happened once!”

“Because now I catch you before it can happen again,” Sera booped his nose.

“Pfft, I had it under control.” He denied, returning to the floor.

Sera rolled her eyes.

A trumpet fanfare played suddenly, and golden rays of light peeked over a few clouds overhead and danced in the sky. All the angels stopped to look at it. They were relaying messages and announcements.

“Looks like we’re being summoned,” Sera noted.

“MmHmm,” Lucifer was hovering next to her face, wiggling his eyebrows smugly at her. “I knew we needed to get up early. I told you-,”

Sera shoved his face to the side, “You had no idea they were going to call for a last minute meeting.”

“It’s in thirty minutes though, you would have missed it if you were still sleeping,” he rubbed it in. “Most likely it’s just last minute resource checking.”

Gadreel just laughed at their antics, “I’ll see you both later at the grand introduction.”

Lucifer spun around, “Absolutely!”

“We’ll see you there, Gadreel,” Sera waved. She looked at Lucifer, “We should get going.”

He flared his wings excitedly, “Race?”

“No.”

Lucifer pouted, “You’re no fun.”

Sera patted down her hair and began walking towards the council hall, “I’m in no rush to mess up my hair again before an important meeting.” She told him. “We’re the seraphim! Don’t we have to make a good impression?”

Walking after her, Lucifer waved her off, “We can do what we want. Our wings do all the impressing for us,” he flapped his to make a point. He was then immediately proven correct.

There were gasps over to Sera’s right and she saw some angels gasping and pointing at them. They must have been new and were just seeing them for the first time. Sera bowed her head at them politely and then elbowed Lucifer and gestured her head towards them.

The second Lucifer turned his head to see, the new angels blushed, turned away and immediately started giggling, stealing glances at him every few seconds.

“Hello!” he greeted, waving his whole arm instead of just his hand. Before Sera could even think to stop him, he immediately flew over to them.

“Lucifer,” Sera followed after him.

“Ahhhhah so you ARE Lucifer and Sera!” one of them squealed.

Lucifer squinted at them for a second. His eyes grew big and round when he realized these were new angels. “Holy heaven! Are you new?!” He flew around them, giving them, looking them over. “You’re both so cute!”

Sera rolled her eyes. Lucifer always did have a soft spot for the cherubs.

The two little cherubs both squealed in delight, “Thank youuuu.”

“Has anyone shown you around yet?” Lucifer asked them.

“Luci,” Sera put a hand on his shoulder.

“No not yet,” another one of them answered.

“Well hey! Let me give you a quick tour!”

Both of them squealed again.

“Luci, we’ve got somewhere to be,” Sera reminded him.

He jumped up into the air, gesturing for the cherubs to follow him, “Relax Sera! We’ve still got,” he paused to count really fast, “Twenty-eight minutes!”

“We’ve got to be there before that…”

“It’s fine!” he waved it off, “The tour will be ten minutes max!”

Sera crossed her arms, “For you maybe, don’t forget no one else can fly as fast as you.”

“Fine, fifteen to twenty, it’s fine!” Lucifer was entirely unconcerned, “I’ll see you there!” he took off with the two cherubs in tow.

Sera shook her head exasperated. She couldn’t believe he was supposed to be the high seraphim. His bubbly, bouncy, energetic personality wasn’t bad per say but it was very unprofessional most of the time. She knew he could hold it together in court meetings, having been the defacto overseer and announcer several times, but whenever they were out of meetings…

“I’ll go make sure the doors don’t close on you…” Sera muttered, knowing full well he couldn’t hear her.

She knew Lucifer preferred flying through heaven as fast as he could, as if he was always in a hurry. She quite enjoyed walking through at her leisure, taking in the sights, watching the sun’s rays dance on the clouds and bounce off different colors, seeing the other angels go about their days… Part of her was worried that once she started taking more of the seraphim duties to lighten Lucifer’s load, she wouldn’t be able to see this more.

Lighten the load… heh. Maybe that’s why Lucifer always rushed everywhere. To get everything done and still have time for himself.

Arriving at the courthouse, she spotted another angel there. This one was a member of the court, albeit a bit more animalistic with his bug head, one of the more lower ranking members.

“Greetings Hutriel,” she called out to him.

Hutriel turned to look at her. “Hello, Sera,” he said politely before raising an eyebrow, “Where’s your little boy toy?”

Sera glared at him and even opened some extra eyes for emphasis, “You forget your place Hutriel.”

He raised up his hands innocently, “I know I know, you’re both the same rank, and he’s actually older than you even though he acts like a child... Just never seen the two of you separate is all. He didn’t get lost again did he?”

Sera kept her glaring, “He’s on his way and you better watch your attitude. His compassion and wonder are great qualities of his that quite frankly you seem to lack.”

It was Hutriel’s turn to glare at Sera. “Remind me, didn’t he get taken off the Eden project, demoted to exclusively overseeing it and not allowed to make anything for it because of his behavior?” he retaliated.

“And how exactly did you come across this information? As far as I was aware, it wasn’t disclosed to anyone lower than seraphim. Did you eavesdrop?” Sera asked him innocently.

Hutriel shifted his gaze.

The doors behind Sera began to slowly close. Time had run out. Was Lucifer going to be late again or-

A white/silver/blonde blur suddenly rushed through the door and past Sera. The speed was such that it spun Hutriel around at least three times. She turned to look and saw none other than Lucifer wobbling, trying to stick the landing. Once he regained his balance, he slicked back his hair and did some finger guns at her, “ON TIME!” he grinned wildly.

_____

The first chapter is 18k words I'm not putting all of it here