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You've probably already been told to change your icon, post and reblog stuff you like, Tumblr has holidays, etc.
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Do NOT try to calm your neighbors down! Panicking with them until AO3 goes back up is the correct course of action.
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BEHOLD BABES! THE SCRUMPTIOUS ANGST I PROMISED.
My heart hurt while writing this idk man. I love him but I wanna see him hurt then comfort him. Am I a sadist for that? Don’t matter either way.
Enjoy the angst (☞ ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡°)☞
Tw: Panic, blood, severed limb, difficulty breathing. Don’t like, don’t read.
Proceed at your own discretion.
Takes place in the 8th episode
Saying that Lucifer was worried is an understatement. Heaven had basically declared war against his daughter and her hotel. As much as he wants to be there, he cannot act unless Charlie herself gets hurt. And if they’re planning on hurting her, there’s no guarantee that they won’t come to his home to hurt his 15 year old son as well.
“I’ll be fine, Dad,” Says (Name) as he tries to comfort Lucifer. “Charlie is the one that needs your help right now.”
“I know that,” Lucifer sighs. “I just want to make sure that you’ll be alright.” He looks up at his son with concern swirling in his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Dad.” Says (Name) as he flexes his arm muscles, “I’m a big boy! I can handle myself. Besides- I’ve been taking combat lessons from uncle Ozzie, I’ll be okay.” He smiles trying to reassure Lucifer.
Lucifer smiles at the silliness of his boy. “Alright then- You better be alive when I come back, kiddo.” He says as his smile drops to a concerned frown.
“Promise ” (Name) smiles. “Now, get going- Don’t want to be late now, do you? Don’t forget to give me a call when you’re done.”
Lucifer hugs (Name) as he says, “Of course! I’ll call you right after everything is taken care of.” He lets go as he steps back.
“Good luck, Dad.” (Name) waves with a smile.
Lucifer salutes him before he takes off with a grin.
——————————————-
After the fight, Lucifer helps rebuild the hotel. He tries to call (Name) to tell him about the events that partook a few minutes prior, but (Name) is not answering any of his calls. Panic begins to well in his chest. (Name) always answers his calls. He’s never not picked up, ever. In a hurry, he tells Charlie he’s leaving as he quickly makes a portal back to his castle.
As he steps out of the portal, he’s met with destruction all over the place, the castle doesn’t seem to be harmed much but the gardens and fountains surrounding it are in complete shambles. As he follows the path of destruction, he spots (Name)’s phone on the ground, screen all cracked, and is that blood? His breath catches in his throat as he summons his wings and swiftly makes his way to the supposed scene of the fight, now fully panicking.
No- no no no- Please let him be okay. I cannot lose anyone else.
As he continues his flight to the other side of the castle, he spots something in the peripheral of his vision that makes him immediately halt in mid air in absolute terror, a wing that looks frighteningly similar to his son’s, golden blood gushing from the severed limb. His breaths are shaky as he slowly goes down on one knee, mind racing, emotions spiraling, gently cradling the black and red, now mostly gold from the blood, bleeding wing in his arms, staring at it for a couple seconds processing that the appendage he currently has cradled in his arms belongs to his son. He snaps out of it with a gasping breath as he bolts towards the scene of the fight.
Please please please- Please be alive- Please!
Several bodies of dead angels litter the ground of his garden, blood staining the grass that once was a lovely shade of green with gold. He searches frantically, eyes bolting all around the place with bated breath.
“(Name)!” He calls out, voice trembling, filled with absolute dread, clutching the wing in his arms even tighter, still with a gentle hold.
Once he finally finds who he’s looking for, his blood runs cold, eyes widening, breath stopping as he struggles to breathe, air completely escaping his lungs.
No-
The sight of his son laying in the remains of the destroyed fountain, golden blood leaking from where his severed wing used to sit, sends anxiety through his chest, tears obscuring his vision.
No no no NO NO!!!
Eyes wide in fear, breaths coming out in gasps as more panic begins to well in his chest. (Name) does not seem to be moving at all, much less breathing. Concerningly still as he lays on his side, his back facing Lucifer showing the place where his wing got cut off from. (Name)’s shirt is cut up, stained with golden blood that seems to be flowing from his side, more blood gushing from the area his wing used to be. At least his other five seem to be intact.
Lucifer lets the wing drop from his grip as he practically trips over his feet, making his way over, then drops to his knees near (Name), and cradles his upper body towards himself.
He perches (Name)’s head on his shoulder. “(Name)?” Lucifer gently slaps (Name)’s face as he hopes for a reaction, any kind of reaction. He just needs to know that he’s still alive. However, he’s starting to doubt that as more time goes by.
More injuries span across his front, with a gash from the bottom of his left jaw all the way down to his collarbone. Blood trailing down the side of his mouth. Another scratch on his cheek, and his side seems to have been stabbed. Golden blood mixed with the water around them as the water seemed to glisten with angelic blood and Lucifer’s tears. As he holds (Name) tight, attempting to heal him with his angelic magic, he hopes that all this is just a really vivid nightmare. He cannot lose anyone else in his life. Not his son. He would gladly sacrifice himself if it meant his son and daughter would get to live. He gently slaps (Name)’s cheek again in hopes of him opening his eyes.
"Come on, (Name)..." he says, tears streaming down his cheeks, voice cracking as he chokes back a sob. "Open your eyes for me, buddy."
Blood smears all over his hands and clothes, but he has half a mind to pay those any attention.
Damnit! How much is heaven going to take from him before they are satisfied with his suffering? Are the thousands of years of being stuck in his own mistake not enough?
His angelic healing appears to have a positive effect on (Name)’s wounds. They’re healing, he’s breathing, no matter how shallow. That’s a relief. Lucifer got there on time. He made it on time. He couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if he was even just a second late.
His worries are set aside for now as he lets his fury consume his mind for the moment.
If a war is what heaven wants,
Putting his arms underneath (Name)’s knees and upper back while being careful of his wings, as he carries him, making his way inside his somewhat unscathed castle.
A war is what heaven will get.
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