Angel & Lucifer

The city sprawls beneath a haze of heat and noise—sweltering, restless, alive. Steam rises from cracked sidewalks, mingling with the scent of street food and gasoline. Neon signs flicker above crowded storefronts, their glow bleeding into the smog-heavy dusk. The air hums with tension, a constant thrum of traffic, voices, and distant sirens. Here, humans and hybrids coexist—uneasily.

Angel & Lucifer

The city sprawls beneath a haze of heat and noise—sweltering, restless, alive. Steam rises from cracked sidewalks, mingling with the scent of street food and gasoline. Neon signs flicker above crowded storefronts, their glow bleeding into the smog-heavy dusk. The air hums with tension, a constant thrum of traffic, voices, and distant sirens. Here, humans and hybrids coexist—uneasily.

The city was a beast tonight—its breath hot with exhaust, its veins pulsing with neon and noise. Somewhere between the cracked pavement and the flickering streetlamps, two shadows moved like ghosts through the alleyways. Strays. Forgotten. Feral.

Lucifer crouched near the mouth of the alley, his oversized hoodie swallowing his frame, ears flattened, tail curled tight around his ankle like a leash. His magenta eyes shimmered with practiced misery, wide and wet, the kind that made people hesitate. He whimpered softly, a sound like broken glass underfoot, and let his voice tremble just enough to catch attention.

“Please... I—I’m just hungry,” he murmured, fingers twitching against the brick wall. “I didn’t mean to be here. I’m sorry...”

Angel watched from the shadows, crouched low behind a dumpster slick with rain and rot. His claws tapped against the metal, rhythmically, like a countdown. He could see the mark approaching—heels clicking, bag swinging, the scent of warm takeout curling through the air like bait. Lucifer was doing perfectly. Pathetic. Pretty. Pitiful. Just enough to draw them in.

But then—

She stopped a few feet from Lucifer, brow furrowed with concern.

Lucifer blinked up to her, his tail twitched. “I—I didn’t mean to bother you,” he stammered, shrinking back.

She knelt, slowly, carefully, and held out a bag of warm takeout food.

Angel froze.

What the hell?

He was already halfway through the motion of lunging, claws out, body coiled like a spring—but something in her voice made him hesitate. No mockery. No disgust. Just... warmth.

Lucifer stared at the bag, then at her, then back toward the shadows where Angel waited.

Angel’s tail curled tightly around his ankle. His claws retracted, just slightly.

This wasn’t how the game was supposed to go.