I know Sandalphon is mad as fuck that Lucifer based him off of the person Lucifer was close with, even if it was one sided (Belial).
Sandalphon is Metatron’s delinquent brother.
While Metatron is very loving and caring 😇 —> Sandalphon’s delusional and cruel 😈 (and he listens to ⚠️hardbass⚠️)
Sandalphon listens to hardbass
[ @cxffexngel || royalty AU because Lucifer defs needs a treat - aka the sight of a pretty ang- knight! ]
Sundown called in for the birds song fade, even those that linger with their melodies leave after seeds depleted and the lone young man only could watch with a melancholic fondness their temporary part. Lucifer had been gone for a while, something about a meeting with other royals and the villages below to enact new changes and simply forge stronger the bond he’s got with neighbor cities - this and that, and yet with the vague knowledge Sandalphon, the now claimed knight that had laid low for the time being, serves much to give a headache when trying to make sense of just what the other was going on about. So he simply did not partake on the political sides, never has tried; it was much better to go on and clean rooms where maids and others wouldn’t dare touch in fears piles of papers would completely crush them. Just like how once Lucifer’s room had been once a sea of papers, quills and many, many things the king had thought long gone miraculously unearthed from the mess the place it once had been. No longer a test of wills to step around without accidentally ripping the city’s pacts with other kingdoms, no more dread of a single drop of coffee falling on just newly written drafts as the ink dried — it had taken a while, and the knight remembers it with some sort of amused fondness; many apologies murmured from the man who might arrive anytime now, where Sandalphon has simply lost himself to working out as no more places needed, for now, any attention from the miraculous thing, apparently as some murmur, that is his tendency to space out in a fit of tidying spree for the sake of it. It was easy to sneak and borrow discreetly things from one of the many rooms to raise new knights. Never having taken any of Uriel’s suggestions about enrolling in them due to the obvious that somehow did not drill into the man’s skull, nor it did help at all easing off how the other three simply did not help at all without somehow enabling him and drag the groggy knight around despise the clear protests - all bark but never a bite, and most duels always ending in a tie no matter who was against him between Sandalphon and the four knights. At least it helped sharpen his abilities, where he lacked the rather intimidating strength both Uriel and Michael had, he was quick, a quick learner and with sharpened senses that helped always avoiding the worst blows aimed. Even when swords were sheathed and tied so the blades never would come out and hurt any - bruises would simply sting if any of those connected, and while they did not do more than tickle, to Sandalphon, the looks of worry on Lucifer somehow had managed to persuade the reckless behavior to fade. Just a bit. Right now Sandalphon only tests stamina, with heavy lifts made pf rock and embeded in steel to hold them certain amount of time, and then lean forth to place them down when it was enough. A simple self imposed task, and one the young man enjoyed as it had greatly given back, along the unfortunate sparring sessions, the strength once wielded in the past. Perhaps it was greater even, yet still it’d yet to come and match Lucifer’s frame, not that he cared much thought. It’s when echoes of steps and voices greeting the one who also lived here, longer than Sandalphon’s had when he knows the other is back, which makes his heart lighter somehow. Yet another of those rather embarrassing emotions that were immediately buried as soon as they sprout - shoved forcefully just like the harsh intake of air inhaled when he’s forgotten the basics of his exercised needed. Focus! But it was easier said than done, and completely out his hands now that a greeting and those insufferably kind eyes could stare back with a smile at the sharpness of his own. Sandalphon tells himself that he’s ready, that this time the facade pf some sternness will work and finally, Lucifer will tire of him - but that was yet another lie that’s hardly convincing at all. So the immaculate door frame moves, and from where the knight has made the makeshift training ground is, his back meets the king - taut fabric and flexed muscles of his back all for him to see as glistering shine of sweat clings dampening the dark skin tight clothes, only sparing, for now a look from over his shoulder. “ ... Welcome back, Kin- …Lucifer” It still feels wrong, but to drop the formalities was something he’s promised the other ever since that day under the beautiful snow. Even then habits die hard and his tongue ties within itself at the bitter taste the name upholds somehow, too close - too tight of a string tying his soul for the other yet there’s still that fog in between. Something the other had promised to dispel if he ever asked to, yet Sandalphon wanted to discover in his own. “ I suppose it went well - Don’t feel too obligated to spare details, I doubt to really understand most of it. ” But there’s not edge in the sincere exasperation that his words have, only then allowing his arms to rest and put the lifts down with a soft shift of pillows when they crush the soft surface but never completely touch the marveling floor devoid of a single speckle of dust - but droplets linger of the silent self imposed training, vestiges of how much it had been by now the small knight had ever since finished dwelling around and stayed within the only place comfort was absolute, despise never admiring it beyond how his body would relax the very moment heels clicked past the doorframe in especially long days and gross arguments against annoying individuals he’s thrown hands more than he was proud to count. Not that Sandalphon regrets it, too. Taut chest heaves in and out when the weights have left his hands, which now flex and relax to ease pff the soreness that always remain for some time, turning to properly face the other. “ Made the bed this time, and found… some of your lost tomes. I suppose even the crown gets lost sometimes? — D-Don’t respond that one thought. Just… Go rest if you’re tired. ” Ah, somehow even now it felt awkward - to somehow be this close to the one he once had tried to kill, to now slowly discover that there was just more than that. Too deep for a friendship but the heaviness betrayals dig and press it’s fangs it was too difficult to truly feel a complete bond. But this was not the time for such trivial things, and pursed lips relax as his gaze peels away towards where remnants of his silent plight coaxing the birds silently frame the only one resident left about his actions. A few scattered feathers having been pushed by the breeze inside the room, and it was the perfect excuse to pace and take it within rough hands. Clean, and with small speckles pf dusted gold against it’s aurburn hue as he observes it - and it’s great to forget about the constant ringing in his brain, and simply keep the peace of the room.
A sigh slips past his pale lips as he waves off the group of soldiers trailing after him - excitement carrying their voices down the hall, and well past his chambers despite Raphael’s grunts in an attempt to hush them, Michael having already been made Gabriel’s prisoner upon their return so she could relay the results of the meeting to the others. He was sympathetic to their eagerness, they were mere foot soldiers; the children of farmers that he had given shelter within the palace in exchange for serving him. Unlike the army Lucilius had left behind, the soldiers of noble birth who despised him, they were friendly towards him, and held him in high regard. And the meeting today had been directly related to sustaining crop growth during the drier seasons, and expanding the overall supply of food they had available within the country in an attempt to help curb the scarcity that had become commonplace during the other’s rule. So, it was something they had a vested interest in, but exhaustion was already plaguing him - as much respect as he harbored for the kings and queens of the countries that bordered Canaan, he had never been good with social gatherings or prolonged conversations with those outside of the ones he was closest to. It was draining, and despite how much he cared for them, he found his smile faltering ever so slightly when they didn’t seem to understand Raphael was attempting to dismiss them. It made the relief he felt palpable when he reached the ornate doors that lead into his room, and the message finally came across as he offered them a soft, and apologetic farewell for the time being, with the reassurance that he would update them after a night’s rest. One was sorely in need of given that he didn’t sleep at all while they had been away - every image that crossed his mind when his eyes would close twisting into a nightmare in a matter of seconds. He’d hardly eaten, as well, despite Michael’s best efforts - too concerned about a certain knight’s well-being to care much for his own. With a shake of his head, he dismisses the thoughts, and slips inside of his room before someone else tries to catch his attention. The door falling shut behind him with no more interruptions, a welcomed mercy given the sheer number of times he had been stopped since setting foot in the courtyard.
It’s only after confirms the others have left that he tears his gaze away from the door, hazy irises dancing across the immaculate floor - not a single paper or tome that he had left strewn about remains upon the lush carpet. At this point, it no longer catches him off guard, but he finds himself admiring Sandalphon’s handiwork regardless. But it only holds his attention for a moment when he catches sight of the knight in the corner, eyes lifting and lips parting to greet him, though the words are firmly lodged in his throat upon actually seeing him. Long lashes flutter upwards in surprise as his mouth swiftly snaps shut. The thin fabric of the other’s bodysuit is taut over his lean muscles, and the dampness from his sweat plasters it against his skin, making every curve of his shoulders and back painfully apparent. His auburn locks tousled even more than usual from moving about, and there’s a distinct sheen to them that makes them shimmer gold against the gentle light of the sun pouring in through the open windows leading out onto his balcony. He finds himself, for once, struck utterly speechless in the other’s presence, and he’s aware his gaze is lingering on the knight’s shoulder blades for an exceedingly impressive amount of time - to the point where he hardly notices that Sandalphon had tilted his head to look at him. His trance only broken by the sound of the other’s voice, and he blinks harshly before meeting those scarlet eyes while swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “Ah – Thank you, Sandalphon,” he clears his throat in an attempt to hide how his voice cracks when it manages to escape his throat, and just how hoarse it is when he forms actual words. A hand lifts to cover his mouth, in an attempt to hide the wave of emotions threatening to drown him, and to shelter the faint dusting of rose that speckles his doll-like features at the joy he feels by being called his name. “I am home,” he adds on after a moment, the soft sound of his deep voice muffled slightly by the warm skin of his palm. Another thick swallow to curb the drum of his rapidly beating heart is forced down before he walks over to where the other is standing.
“It did, yes. Things appear promis–” he promptly cut himself off when Sandalphon sets the weights down, memorized by the way the other’s muscles flex beneath his shirt with the motion, and how his skin glistens as it catches the warmth pouring into the room. His gaze once more trailing downwards from the other’s visage to his body. A mixture of relief and awe swimming in eyes that seem just slightly more alive than they had been when he had first entered. Compared to the first few weeks following the now knight’s release, Sandalphon’s body had been worn and weary - he had lost weight, and a decent amount of his strength from being chained for so long, and it was a welcomed sight to see him regain it. His skin no longer looked ghastly pale, and the bruises that had covered his ankles and wrists from where shackles had held him in place were gone. He looked alive again, at least a bit, and it was enough to make Lucifer’s heart cease beating where it was lodged painfully against his rip cage. But, for as much relief as he feels seeing the other so well off, he feels just as much admiration for him. For his strength, of course, but for how wonderful he looks. He always did. He had always thought Sandalphon beautiful, but when he’s faced with it so painfully it takes every last drop of oxygen from his lungs. His own chest heaving beneath his robes at the same moment he watches the knight’s do the same - his eyes unable to resist trailing over the other’s arms as he stretches them out. And it’s really only when he accidentally makes eye contact again that he recalls he had been in the middle of speaking. “Right, things appear promising,” he repeats himself as he coughs weakly into his hand to clear his throat again before allowing it to drop back down to his side. The fond smile that had been hidden behind it now allowed to, finally, grace as the other as he closes the distance he had left behind them to give the knight room to continue with his work out. “You have my thanks, I would be lost without you.” And so would everything else in this castle, but he doesn’t feel the need to admit that much out loud when it had been clear from the moment Sandalphon had joined their ranks. “And my gratitude for all of your hard work.”
A faint chuckle ripples through his lungs as he pushes aside the raspiness that still clings to his voice, and reaches out to gingerly push the other’s damp bangs from his eyes. “It has, yes, though I am happy to inform you it has been some since I last misplaced it.” While there is a certain amount of playfulness to his voice, it’s clear he’s quite serious - not that it’s difficult to believe when he loses nearly everything he touches, and he has a habit of not wearing it given his dislike for doing so. Needless to say, he’s lost it…quite a number of times. He shakes his head lightly at the other’s words. “No, I am all right.” He’s tired. Exhausted even, but he’s longed to see the knight the entire time they had been away, and he can’t stand the idea of closing his eyes now that he’s finally reunited with him. “Relieved, truly, to see you doing well. I pray the others have treated you well in my absence.” There’s worry in his voice despite his best effort to hide it. So, instead, he retracts his hand only to allow his palm to fall upon Sandalphon’s forearm instead. And it’s strange to him how simply being in the other’s presence is enough to chase away just a bit of the numbness and fear and dread that had been clinging to him the entire time he had been away. How he yearns for the day Sandalphon might be able to accompany him - ah, that’s right. The other isn’t a knight of his own will. The day he’s able to accompany him beyond the castle walls, he imagines, the same day he will leave this place, and Lucifer can’t blame him - even if the thought tears his heart to pieces. Subconsciously, he squeezes the other’s arm gently, gaze lowering to where their skin touches as he forces the thought away. “I can heat up water for a bath if you would like, or brew you a cup of coffee in a moment. For now, though, sit down; allow me to massage your shoulders. I believe you have done far more work than I have while I have been away.”
Hᴏᴡ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sɪᴍᴘɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ?
Lucifer, after searching our simp database, we found that you are basically some sort of simp magnet... tell me your secrets...
“I see...forgive me, but what is a ‘simp database’ and a ‘simp magnet’? I am afraid I have not come across those terms in my research thus far.”
Finally, Chapter 4 of Heaven's Light Hell's Fire. Good omens/hunchback of notre dame human au.
This chapter is the end of the festival of fools when Aziraphale stops the cruelty towards Crowley against the judge's orders. He pisses off the judge and he and Crowley flee to notre dame and claim sanctuary.
Aziraphale follows crowley to the bell tower and they get to know each other before Crowley helps Aziraphale escape.
Abuse from crowd to Crowley
Abuse from guardians to Crowley
Word g¥p$¥ is used then immediately called out.
Word fat is used when immediately reassured.
After the angst there is soft parts, hair brushing, bonding etc.
(っ◔◡◔)っ ❤ I present to you, my hazubando and son
I grinded non stop during the last “rise of the beasts” just to get enough gold nuggets to buy them rings ಥ_ಥ it was worth it!
Basic color palettes for an original character of mine I plan on putting in a novel series sometime in the future. The first is his regular colors for his design, the second is his theme scent (blueberry), and the last is his theme color (blue).
His name is Sandalphon and he is the archangel of Vengeance and the other half of the Archangel Raguel. He is one of two lesser archangels.
Sandalphon belongs to me.
A family photo.
Sandalphon loving his Demon Queen.