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dw-writes · 2 months

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Angelic Rip Off - Chapter One

Summary: It didn't take much for you to be kicked from Heaven. Ask the wrong question, see the wrong person, bad place, bad time, etc. Heaven as a paradise sounded like a scam when you factored in how easy it was to fall. What a rip. Word Count: 9,649 Chapter Summary: You're booted from Heaven because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Genre: Fantasy, Romance. Slow Burn. Eventual Lucifer x Reader Warnings: Angst, swearing, mild body horror, screaming, violence. A/N: I'm actually really excited for this story!! And I'm really hoping that you guys are going to enjoy it :) Tag list at the end. Using a read more because it's very long and i dont like cluttering the tag :) Enjoy.

Chapter One

There weren’t rules about being out so late in Heaven, but it wasn’t common.

You always were a weird one.

You brushed off the thought as you walked, wings tucked close, following the winding road through the center of Humility Square. It wasn’t silent, far from it – the hum of the elevator in the distance, the quiet chatter in the Prayer Palace, the buzz of electricity, and the few people that always walked during the night.

It almost didn’t surprise you to see Adam and Lute out walking, either. They often did – claimed that it was to ‘patrol’ and ‘keep Heaven safe’ but you had a feeling it was a weird kind of date for the two of them. You almost waved but stopped yourself at the sight of Sera walking with them. The three of them were making a beeline for the Angelic Council building behind you, whispering amongst themselves.

You waved for Sera’s attention and flew to close the distance.

“Shit,” Adam muttered. Lute stiffened.

Man cannot school his features for anything.

“Is there an emergency council meeting?” you asked Sera as you approached, pulling your phone from your pocket to check. The only thing you saw was a notification from FaithBook, and no text about a council meeting.

Sera waved for the two Exorcists to go ahead, and they left with uncharacteristically little preamble. She waited until they were inside, and you watched them push the doors open. Inside the building were two figures, one drastically taller than the other, who turned when the doors opened. You tilted your head, hoping to see more details, but the doors closed before you could.

“What are you doing out so late?” Sera asked.

You frowned. “I normally take a walk this late,” you replied, crossing your arms, “It’s nice. It’s relaxing.” You glanced at the Council building again. “Should I ring the Council? Do you need anything?”

“I need you to go home,” she firmly stated.

You paused, laughed a little, frowned. “I’m a senior member of the Council, same as you. If there’s a meeting, I should be informed of it,” you said. You squeezed your arms, watching her as her eyes darted for the doors. “Not Adam, certainly not Lute. You know as well as I do that the leniency he’s gotten with his ragtag para-military group is getting dangerous, and allowing him—”

“It doesn’t involve you,” Sera cut in, holding up a hand.

You reeled back.

She flew past you, positioning herself between you and the door. “You need to leave.” You watched her turn and head inside, and she was quick to shut the doors behind her. But you could have sworn you saw two familiar faces inside.

Impossible. They can’t ever come home.

Your nightmares started that night and continued for weeks: of the brightest star in creation falling from the Heavens and taking a third of the sky with him. Lucifer’s fall was a real nightmare for you; a friend from the start, someone you made the universe with, who told you all his dreams and things he could change; who told you about Lilith, and Eve, and the apple, and what he did in a flurry of fearful tears when talks of “expulsion” first started.

Lucifer, whose brothers dragged him down silent streets in the middle of the night for an emergency council, who you followed with promises that you would help him, that you’d make sure nothing happened to him.

Lucifer, who fell from Heaven and past Earth with the woman he loved wrapped in his arms. You remembered the smell of his flesh burning as he kept her safe through the fall. You remembered your stars clinging to the edges of his feathers as he dragged them out of sight.

The whole ordeal plagued you, and it had taken centuries for the nightmares to stop.

And then, as if out of nowhere…

You walked the streets while attempting to rid the remnants of your most recent nightmare from your mind. You passed peaceful homes, the Prayer Palace, and the empty Angelic Council building, trying to rid Lucifer’s pained face from your eyes.

You turned a corner and almost ran right into Sera. You swallowed a swear, apologizing profusely, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you—”

“Why are you out?” she demanded, her voice sharp, uneven, the eyes of her hair cracking open, “Again.”

“Just out for a walk,” you slowly replied. Familiar faces walked around the corner behind her, heading back the way you’d come from, towards the Heavenly Elevator – Adam, Lilith, Lute, then Sera following behind them.

You turned around, eyes wide, staring at the familiar tall blonde.

“Lilith?” you weakly asked. She turned, her eyes flat and blank as she met your gaze. She had to have known who you were, right? You stepped closer, feeling the panic rising in your throat like sticky acid. “Lilith, what’re you—”

“Go home,” demanded Sera.

The first woman still watched you, her eyes darting over your face, familiarity slowly rising from the depths of her irises. She closed the gap between you both, grasping your hands tight between hers, pleading, “Take care of them.”

Lute’s hand pressed flat against your chest and shoved you back. Hands were torn from yours, and the four of them were gone. You stared down the road where they disappeared, your lungs seeming to shrink in your chest until your vision tunneled at the edges.

Abandoned.

You couldn’t remember how you got home, or when you fell asleep, but you were shaken away by the Exorcists breaking down your door. They dragged you out of bed with little warning and flew down the busy morning streets with you locked between their arms until they kicked down the doors of the Angelic Council and threw you inside.

You remembered being on the other end of your situation – when you stormed in after Lucifer, watching them sling accusations that had no merit – and you trembled when the same words were shouted down at you from the Council.

“Traitor!”

“Snake!”

“Liar!”

You rose to your feet, holding your hands out in front of you as your wings lifted you to be level with the Council. “Wait, what’s going on!” you demanded, “What are my charges?! Why am I here!?” You tilted your head back to look up at Sera in the top bench. “Sera?”

She folded her hands in front of her, declaring your name for the Council to hear. “You’ve been accused of treason, and of conspiring with Hell to lead a rebellion against Heaven,” she stated, “How do you plea?”

You dropped your arms, watching her, your chest tightening all over again as you whimpered out a faint, “What?” Your eyes darted across the familiar faces of the Council as your face tingled with adrenaline.

“How do you plea?” Sera demanded again.

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. Your ears rang. You couldn’t think. You shook your head. “Not guilty, you know that!”

“Do we?” hissed a voice on your left, one pushed through an Exorcist mask you couldn’t recognize.

“There’s evidence,” came another voice on your right, from another mask and another nameless Exorcist.

You’ve failed.

You couldn’t argue as the evidence was read. Weeks and weeks of incidents, of things you know you never did, would never do, could never do, and yet there was evidence being read and being played and being presented that made you out to be the next Great Rebel of Heaven.

Weeks of them.

What a coincidence.

You looked up at Sera, your eyes pricking with tears. “Is this because of who I saw?” you whispered.

She didn’t move.

“Are you framing me?” you rasped.

“Hard to frame you when there’s so much evidence, babe,” Adam commented from his box seat.

Sera rose from her seat. “Is this all you have to say in your defense?” she asked, “That this is a ‘frame job’?”

You swallowed, then nodded.

She waved her hand. “Then this court finds you guilty and moves for immediate exile.”

It was a blur – the streets were cleared as you were dragged from the Council building, limp in the arms of the Exorcists, trembling harder as the gate grew closer and closer.

“Sera, you know this isn’t true!” you begged as you were led to the expulsion point of Heaven. You glanced down through the hole, your throat closing at the distance between you and Earth and the pinpoint that would be Hell further past it. You turned back to Sera, your eyes burning. “Sera, please—”

“Shut your mouth, traitor!” the familiar voice of Lute cut through Sera’s loud silence. Her hand shoved hard against your chest and sent you over the edge. Gravity sucked you through and sent you careening through existence.

It hurt. The heat against your back, the yanking of your feathers from your wings, the cutting of the wind and the dirt and ice as you passed Earth and entered the atmosphere of Hell.

The last thing you saw before you hit the ground were the few stars that you dragged from the skies with you.

Stolas thought the light that flashed in the sky was just those pesky Exorcists leaving Hell again, after their most recent attack on the Sinners of the Pride ring. It was enough for him to consider moving – it would be safer for Octavia, at the very least.

However, his feathers ruffled as the light grew closer and closer to his manor, and he threw his hand in front of his face as it became too blinding to look at.

The ground rumbled, and he lost his footing. He was quick to stand, running from the room and peaking in on an equally startled Octavia to ensure she was alright. A screeching from the upper floors informed him that Stella was, at the very least, unharmed. The Prince slowed his travels through the manor until he opened the front door.

His yard was destroyed – it would take months of work to get it back to its pristine landscaping – by the massive crater that sat in the middle. It smoldered, and something sharp assaulted his senses as he crept closer.

Wings peeked out at odd angles from the crater.

“Octavia?” he called as he quickly descended upon the crater, “Call for a medic!”

Word spread, and quickly, once a private medical team had been dispatched to the manor. Asmodeus was the first to arrive – a concerned friend, of course, but one who couldn’t stop talking when he had rung Satan up. He called Bee, who called Mammon, who bribed Bel to show up at the gates of the manor.

“Why’re we here?” asked the sin of Sloth, who yawned and stretched, smacking his lips together, “Woke me from a nap.”

“Like you have anything better to do,” Mammon argued, leaning over the smaller man. He leaned back after a moment. “Actually, you have any outstanding bills? Anything from your patients that I can kindly take care of?” he asked with a slimy grin.

Bel eyed him for a moment, then pulled out his phone. “Yeah. We’ve got a list. You pay ‘em, I can help more people, and you can do as you please to get your money back,” he said with a sigh, “If you want.”

“Why’re we here, Ozzie?” Bee asked.

Asmodeus waved to a van parked inside of the manor gate. “Heard from F—” He coughed, thumping his chest with his fist, “Heard from a friend of a friend that there was private doctor called.”

Bee arched an eyebrow. “Friend of a friend?” she questioned.

“Yes,” Ozzie hissed back. He turned, waving at an approaching figure, “Anyone call Levi?”

“She can’t make it, apparently,” replied the last sin, Satan, causing Mammon to jump. He grinned a familiar pointed grin, tilting his head. “What? Scare you?”

“Fuckin’ hate that you look like Lucifer, you know,” swore Greed, scooting away from him, “You might not be blonde, but doesn’t make a fuckin’ difference from the side.”

“Speaking of, is he comin’?’ asked Satan.

“Sent me to voice mail,” replied Bee, “Twice.”

“So, why we here?” asked Bel, rubbing his neck, “Seriously.”

“Well—”

“Why,” cut in the high screech of the Lady Stella, “Are there people LINGERING at my GATE?”

The door of the manor opened not one moment later, a frazzled Prince looking out, and making eye contact with the Sins at his stoop. He stepped out, rubbing his hands together, frowning. “Not that I don’t mind visitors,” he said, “But you’ve impeccable timing with something fragile.”

“Ozzie called us here,” Bee tattled, pointing to the mammoth man closest to the gates, “Said a friend told him that a doctor was called?”

Stolas stopped short of the gate, closing his eyes to an ache that grew behind them. He’d hung up on Blitzø when the doctors had arrived, and he’d said as much. He wasn’t surprised that the news somehow made its way back to Ozzie. Most probably through a one-off frantic phone call to Fizz. Or an attempt one.

While it warmed him from beak to talon, it caused too many issues.

“Well?” asked Mammon, stepping closer to the gates, craning his neck to and fro, “What happened? You finally kill the bitch?”

“Really?” sighed Bel.

Stolas pulled open a smaller door to the side of the grandiose wrought iron entrance. “Well, since you’re here,” he tittered, “I could use advice.”

Advice appeared in the form of being ushered through the winding halls of the Goetia manor, to a small back room meant to serve as servant’s quarters.

And to you.

Carefully laid upon a threadbare mattress was you. You were face down on a series of already stained towels, your leg set in a hasty cast, and your arms wrapped in splotchy bandages. The biggest concern, which made the Sins fall silent, were the six wings that the paramedics were quickly working to stabilize and bandage. One of them, a siren, would occasionally stop and rub your shoulder, whispering a song in his low bass that quieted your whimpers. The second paramedic, a lanky spider demon with needle sharp fingers, expertly wove your bandages in place with medical grade silk slung over her shoulder.

“What happened?” murmured Satan, shoving his hands deep into his pockets to hide his tightening fists.

“A star fell from Heaven, could you believe it?” Stolas sighed. He rubbed his temple, his eyes following the intricate webbing of your bandages.

“Cut the shit with the metaphors, Stolas,” huffed Bel, “What happened?” He stepped closer to keep an eye on the medics.

“Would you believe me if I said I was serious?” Stolas replied. He turned to them, blocking your form with a lift of his caped shoulders. “An angel fell in my front yard,” he hissed.

He blinked when a flash went off next to his face, squeezing them shut and rubbing them with his fists. “Wha—”

“We need to tell Lucifer,” Satan said as he stepped away, sending the picture he’d taken through a message that Stolas couldn’t see.

“Wait a moment, this is a delicate situation,” Stolas argued.

Ozzie held up a hand, hesitated, then gently placed it on the Prince’s shoulder. “How many fallen angels have you heard of landing in Hell?” he asked.

“O-One, Ozzie, but—”

“Augh, fuck!” Satan snapped, dropping his head back, “Fuckin’ message won’t go through. Can someone’s inbox be full? I haven’t ever heard of that!”

“Someone’s gotta go over there,” Bel sighed, rubbing his neck.

The Sins exchanged looks. Bee raised a hand. “I vote Levi,” she said.

“I also vote Levi,” seconded Mammon, “Bitch avoids us, she gets to go meet with the big guy.”

“First thing is the angel needs to heal,” cut in the siren medic, wandering over as his partner finished with your wings, “Anyone attempts to move our patient, and I will personally come after them, do you understand?”

Bee tilted her head, nodding, then patted Ozzie’s shoulder and headed for the door.

Mammon sneered at the siren, “Are you threatening a Sin?”

“Protecting a patient,” Bel argued absently, trailing after Bee.

“Calm down, Mammon, it’s not that deep,” interrupted Ozzie. He ushered the King of Greed out of the room and after the rest of the Sins. “Stolas,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What do you need?”

Stolas looked between him and the medics that were finishing aligning your wings in a way that would allow them to heal properly, then at the Sin he could almost call a friend. “Would you like to explain to my wife what’s happening?” he drawled.

Ozzie clapped the Prince’s shoulder so hard he stumbled forward. “Perks of marriage, my feathered friend!” Ozzie crowed, grinning as he turned away, “Anything else, though, and you know how to find me.”

Stolas sighed, turning back to watch the medics finish their job. “If you manage to get a meeting with the King of Pride, Asmodeous,” Stolas called over his shoulder.

The door leading out into the hall creaked. Stolas squeezed his elbows and turned, watching Ozzie’s shoulders sag with a sigh. “You’ll be the first I call,” replied the King of Lust. He nodded to Stolas and left the room.

Taking a breath, the Prince turned back to the medics for information on your condition. They explained that you would need assistance with everything while you were healing, until they returned in a few weeks to check the base of your wings for stability. After that, you could move on your own, then they’d remove your casts and you could work on getting your wings in order.

“I trust that silence is something we could trust on this matter?” Stolas asked, eyeing your prone body as the medics shuffled past him.

“Of course,” replied the spider demon, “Boss would kill us if we breeched oath.”

Stolas felt a thread unravel in his back as he sighed. “Thank you.” Then, he turned before they left. “I’ll ensure payment is sent to you before day’s out.”

As the weeks passed, you slept, dreaming of the fall, of the trial, of the memories of creation that came before.

You had all of that, and you let it go.

A memory swam up to meet the voice of doubt, as though summoned from the depths.

You pulled yourself up to the edge of the gate surrounding Eden, eyes darting around the trees in search of movement that wasn’t an animal. “Did Michael say what a human was?” you asked, setting your chin on your arms.

You folded your wings against your back as your partner in crime hauled himself up next to you, grunting as he leaned on the top of the gate. “No,” Lucifer answered, huffing, “Just that Dad was making them soon. Two, he said, so they wouldn’t be alone.”

“Wonder if they’ll have tails?” you asked, “Or, wings!”

Lucifer snorted, burying his mouth in his arms to muffle his laughter. “He said they were like the monkeys,” he said, setting his chin on his fist, watching you with a smile, “But he didn’t say anything else beside that.”

“That doesn’t mean much, there’s so many monkeys and monkey adjacent creatures. Michael even made a few, you know, so I don’t trust his opinion on this,” you muttered, “You convince him to let you add the ducks?”

“It’s so difficult!” Lucifer hissed, dropping his hand, “He said Dad has to approve of them being added to the Garden!”

“And?”

“And I haven’t seen him in a while, so I can’t ask,” he huffed.

You kicked your feet behind you, setting your cheek on your arms as you watched him. “Is that why you wanted to come with me? To see if you could ask him yourself?” you asked.

He pursed his lips, looking anywhere but you, and finally smiled. “Maybe.”

“Luci, you used me!” you gasped, pushing away from the gate, your wings fluttering behind you. “I’m wounded! My heart is broken!” He laughed at your dramatics, catching your arms as you drifted past him.

“Stop that, you know that’s not the only reason why,” he said, pulling you back up to the top of the gate, “You gotta be quiet. If the guard catches us, we’ll be in trouble with Michael.”

You leaned on the gate as you watched him. “Because we’re not supposed to be spying on the little Earth project, right?” you muttered. You returned to your previous position, staring out into the vast array of trees that creaked and groaned as they grew. “I’m making a new constellation today. Do you wanna help?”

“Of course.” A hand slapped against your shoulder, pointing through the trees to a familiar tall figure near the center of the garden. He molded the dirt at his feet, building it up and up and up, sculpting features into it until, once satisfied, he breathed into the figure’s molded mouth.

Lilith.

You opened your eyes.

Wide red eyes were inches from your face, partially hidden beneath a dark fringe of styled feathers. The owner choked on a squawk and scrambled back, knocking over a tray that clattered noisily in the silent room.

“Via? Are you alright?” came a voice from somewhere past your feet. The young owlet scrambled away and disappeared out of sight, leaving you alone for a moment to regain your boundaries.

“Angel’s awake,” replied a smaller voice.

You shifted your arm beneath you and pushed yourself up, gasping as weight pressed against your back unkindly. Your eyes pricked with tears as you dropped back onto the bed. The skin around your wings seared with white hot pain.

Thin arms looped around your front and readjusted you. “Careful, my dear, you’ve suffered terrible injuries,” whispered the first voice. A cool rag dabbed your face and neck and trailed down to sooth the burn between your wings. “Octavia! Call the medics please. Inform them our patient is awake.”

“Where am I?” you rasped.

A hand brushed over your face and fixed a straw against your lips. “Drink. You’ve been unconscious for a long time, you need to drink properly,” he said.

You did as you were told. The first few swallows hurt, but you quickly finished the glass and waited for him to fetch you another. “Who are you?”

You watched the tall owl man hesitate as he refilled your glass at the edge of your vision. He stirred the ice in the glass with the straw as he moved back to your side. “My name is Stolas,” he said slowly as he sat again, “I am a Prince of the Ars Goetia, and you are in my manor in Hell.” He held the straw up to your lips again. “Specifically, the Pride Ring,” he added.

Your eyes burned for another reason. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your cheek against the pillow.

“I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear,” Stolas whispered as he smoothed a hand over your hair and down your neck.

Fell all the way to Hell. Broken. Rock bottom. You deserve it.

He set the glass aside and picked up a tissue from the table, dabbing your eyes. “You’re alright. I know the best doctors – they’ve been keeping an eye on you and they’re on their way now that you’re awake,” he murmured.

“I don’t understand,” you hiccupped, shifting to rub your tears on the pillow, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Stolas squeezed your neck lightly, leaning back out of your view for a moment. “Oh,” he gasped, a smile in his voice, “Here, this is my daughter, Octavia.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you looked up. The owlet from before stood next to Stolas, fidgeting with her sleeves. You tried to keep the burning tears from crowding your eyes as you gave her a smile. “Hi.”

It wasn’t long before the medics arrived, and they ushered Stolas and Octavia out of the room to tend to you. They carefully removed your wings from the contraption they’d set up to let them heal, then removed the bandages to check your burns and injuries. They dressed your wounds in freshly spun wraps and gave you instructions on how to stretch your wings and gain strength back in all your limbs. Stolas lingered, being sure to listen to any instructions.

“If you need anything, give us a call,” said the siren demon, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“There’s medication left with the Prince, to assist with your pain,” added the spider demon as she tied the last of your bandages, “It’s all you get, alright?”

You nodded, wrapping a blanket around your back to squeeze your wings against you. It ached, like trying to shake feeling back into your arm, but you needed it. The two accepted a roll of cash, then paused at the door before disappearing out of sight.

Bel rounded the corner, leaning on the door frame.

Stolas stiffened as he sat next to you but waved a hand. “This is Belphegor,” he murmured, “King of Sloth.”

You were quiet in your introduction, and Bel nodded.

“Heard you were awake,” he said, tilting his head, “Good. I overheard them tell you everything about your condition, and that you need to be careful.” He pushed away from the door and held out a small bottle of pills. “For the pain,” he said when you stared at it, “A little better than what they gave you, Stolas.” You gingerly accepted the bottle and nodded.

“Not that the house call isn’t appreciated, Sir,” Stolas murmured, “But what brings you by?”

Bel smiled. “Letting you know personally that I couldn’t get a meeting,” he said, shrugging one shoulder, “Figured, but I thought I’d try.”

The Prince nodded, and stood to show him out, then returned to your side with a sigh.

The following months were rough. Stella glared at you every time she saw you limping around the manor, so you kept to the three halls that led to the servant’s quarters where you slept. You often heard her and Stolas in screaming matches about why you were there, that he was keeping you as some sex toy, and he would bring up your physical state multiple times. It was frustrating. It made you angry that someone’s kindness could be taken in such a way. It sat in your chest and kept you up at night long after the screaming stopped.

When you were able to start putting more weight on your leg and test your wings, Octavia would follow you like a shadow. She’d ask you questions as you practiced your steps and carried her books to regain a modicum of strength, both from curiosity at the fact that an angel crashed into her home and about what you did in Heaven.

“I made stars,” you said as you sat on the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you.

Her already wide eyes grew, and she sat cross legged across from you. “Can you tell me?” she whispered, pulling her knees up to hug them. “You know, my dad’s specialty is astronomy. It’s what a lot of his magic focuses on.”

“Really?” You smiled. “Funny that I crashed here, then.”

“Can you tell me a story about them?” she asked.

So many stories.

You nodded.

There was one story you knew you wanted to tell. It was you and Lucifer, leaning over the parchment and trying to decide which stars needed to go over the Garden.

“What do you think will be the best?” he asked as he flipped through the designs, “It’s gotta be perfect.”

“For Lilith?” you teased.

His eyes snapped up to yours, his cheeks glowing pink. You scrunched your nose at him, trying not to smile too large at his embarrassment. “She’s pretty,” you said.

He swooned, rolling onto his back. “She’s beautiful,” he sighed.

You tapped his forehead with your finger. “C’mon. We have to decide on these constellations and you can pick the one that goes right over the Garden,” you said.

Lucifer sat up. “I know which one!”

“The duck?” you asked with a smile.

“The—” he pouted at you, “Not now.” You laughed. “Besides, I messed up that design, remember? Its neck is too long,” he said.

You flipped through the pages until you found it, tilting your head at the layout of the very specific stars you both had picked for it. “A swan is what Michael called it,” you commented.

Lucifer snorted, waving his hand, rolling onto his back again, his wings spread wide beneath him. “Stupid name,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes and took the papers, rolling next to him. His swings folded into his back, as did yours, and you laid shoulder to shoulder with him as you threw the papers into the air. The many constellations you’d made stuck to the space above your heads. “Okay, which one,” you asked, looking between them, “Which ones would you want to see if you got to star gaze with her?”

He choked next to you, sitting up to cough, and you watched him. He met your gaze eventually.

You were stupid.

It wasn’t hard to read his intentions in his eyes. You’d known him long enough to be able to read every single thought that lingered in his stare no matter how long you watched him. You knew every plan he had to head down to the garden, and you did nothing.

You smiled, instead.

“Which ones?” you asked again.

He flopped back, sighing, and finally grinned. He guided stars into place where they’d be brightest above Eden, and you pulled him from the ground to fill in the rest, until the two of you were surrounded by a globe of light.

“What were the stars above Eden?” Octavia asked.

You blinked the memory of Lucifer’s smile out of your eyes and looked over. She still sat in front of you, where you stretched your legs, watching you a wide and curious stare.

You smiled. “Depends on the time of year, time of day,” you said, “Scorpio rises in the morning, along with Taurus, and Leo. And Aquarius marks the winter solstice.

“Via?” came Stolas’s voice from around the corner. You looked up, waving as Octavia scrambled to her feet and jogged towards his voice. “Oh, you didn’t have to…” He trailed off as he appeared in the hall. He was quick to meet you, kneeling as he held out his hands. “Do you need help?”

“No,” you said, “I was hurting, actually. Wanted to stretch.”

Stolas sat just behind your toes, stretching his own legs on either side of yours, and offered you his hands. You smiled, taking them, and he gently pulled you forward. “Should we call the medics back?” he asked as he pulled you carefully, “I can. Bel is rather good about making sure they come with everything they need for you.”

“King of Sloth,” you said, nodding, “Right. I remember him.” You tilted your head as you stretched towards your legs, relaxing the tension in your back. “He mentioned a meeting?” you asked.

Stolas squeezed your hands. “Uh, right,” he said, clearing his throat, “A meeting with the King of Pride.” He waved a hand towards you and coughed again, “Considering what happened, we thought it was important that he know.”

“Luci,” you whispered after a long moment. You released his hands and sighed. “Lucifer,” you repeated.

“Right,” he agreed with a curious tilt of his head, “Strange to hear him referred to in such a casual manner, of course.”

You smiled. You drew your legs up as you leaned on them, and felt the weight of your wings slowly sinking into your back. Stolas sat up, a bright look on his face. “Look at that,” he pointed out, “You’re making pro—”

“Have you been able to set up a meeting with him?” you cut in. Your face warmed at you interrupting him, and you apologized. “Sorry,” you murmured.

The prince’s excitement shrank into a faint smile. “Sorry,” he apologized in kind, “I haven’t. Rather difficult to even get in contact with him.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright.” Then, you sighed. “I’ll do my best to get out of your hair soon enough, Stolas,” you commented, “I’d hate to keep causing problems.”

“Nonsense,” he said, shaking his head. He stood and offered his hand, which you took, and hauled you off the floor. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to,” he continued, “Stella be dammed.”

He helped you piece together a proper identity in Hell over the many weeks that followed – worked through the proper paperwork a new denizen would need when they arrived, got you a phone, clothes, and even said he could find you a job, if you wanted it.

You laughed a little as you programed Octavia’s number into your phone. She leaned over to make sure you got the picture of her and her dad to use as her contact photo. You even showed her to approve it. “What happened to taking it slow?” you asked as you handed Stolas your phone.

He was quick to add his own number, and continued to add Bel, and a few other numbers you were unsure of. “Well, you’ve been making such progress, I almost forgot you were hurt,” he mused. He handed the phone back. You scrolled through the names. Bel, Levi, Ozzie, Luci with a star next to it, Satan, Via, Stolas, Bee, Blitzy. You didn’t know half of them, but he must have had a reason to include them in your phone.

“Thank you,” you said, tapping the phone on the table, then stood. “I’m gonna go for a walk? Via, you wanna join me?”

“Su—”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Stolas asked nervously. Via wilted next to you. “I-I mean…”

You patted her head and smiled. “It’s okay. We can do something later, okay, V?” you asked.

She smiled at that, nodding, and you picked up the phone. “I’m going for a walk then,” you said, shoving it in your pocket.

Stolas’s feathers bristled. “Be careful then, if you don’t want to stay,” he said, “And be safe, and call—”

“I’ll be okay,” you hurried to say. You patted Octavia’s head as you walked past her.

You were quick to leave the study, sticking to the back halls and waving at the butler when you saw him, until you slipped out through the back door that was almost always unlocked. You pulled your phone back out of your pocket once you were outside, and searched for a map of the Pride Ring, then of Pentagram City, and you started to walk. The light from your screen hurt your eyes the longer you stared at the tiny image, and mixed with the low red ambient light of the sky and the yellow-white glow from the distant portal to Heaven made it worse. You adjusted your map once you were done messing with your eyes, following the streets out of the east section of the map and looking around.

You lowered your arm, gripping your phone as you stared at the Heaven Embassy a few blocks away.

They framed you.

You rubbed your neck, swallowing down the rage that boiled in your throat, looking down as your phone buzzed.

You could push it. Fight back.

A text appeared at your notification bar.

“It’s Satan,” it read, “Wanna talk?”

“How’d you get my number?” you asked as you followed the road away from the Embassy.

“All that rage you got is like a beacon,” he quickly replied, “And I asked Stolas.”

“Right.” You shouldered past a few Sinners as they talked on a corner, and watched a car zoom past to go down towards the southern exit of the Pentagram.

“Want company?” came the next message.

You stopped at a light, staring at it, then hit the automated reply of, “Yes” before shoving the phone in your pocket.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” said a man to your right.

You looked up, blinking at the man next to you. He smiled, tilting his head. His brown hair wasn’t styled in the same slicked back way, but more relaxed, with pieces hanging in his golden eyes. He wore a red suit jacket, opened to show the black and grey pinstripe shirt that was partially unbuttoned beneath it, and black slacks that matched his shirt. He had the same relaxed smile, and the same tilt to his head, and you had to rub your eyes to finish taking him in without seeing a blonde standing in his place.

“Satan, right?” you asked when you finally dropped your hands.

“Right on one,” he replied. He waved a hand ahead when the light turned green, and the two of you walked across the street. “You’ve been the talk of the town, angel,” he mused.

You gave him your name. He repeated it.

Sounds just like him.

“Get it out,” he teased as he led you down the street.

“You look just like Luci,” you blurted. He laughed, throwing his head back with the sound. “It’s unnerving!”

“It’s an evolution, actually,” he said when his laughter passed, “Since we get mistaken all the time up there.”

“But you’re the King of Wrath?” you asked.

“The one and only,” he answered with a smile, “And, I figured, I’m the best one to keep you from losing out to those thoughts.”

You tilted your head. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s not productive to give in to them,” he mused, “You lose every other thought, and you lose your sense of self.” He arched an eyebrow. “It’s okay to give in when it allows you to propel yourself forward.”

“You’re awfully introspective for a King of Sin,” you said.

“I will try not to take offense to that,” he laughed.

You smiled, hugging your sides as you walked. “You said I was the talk of the town?” you asked.

Satan motioned for you to turn a corner, and you did. “Oh, yeah. When you crash landed in Stolas’s front yard, we all saw you. Well, most, Levi and Luci weren’t there for some reason.” He tilted his head, “Ozzie’s fuckin’ thrilled to meet you. Same with Bee. Bel already had the pleasure, and Mammon is on the fence.”

“And Levi and Luci?”

Satan’s pace slowed. “Levi’s a hard sell. She’s not really fond of anyone, if I’m being honest,” he replied, “And no one’s seen Lucifer for about a year.”

You frowned.

Maybe he’s dead.

“Why’s that?” you asked.

He hummed, keeping a leisurely pace as the two of you walked. “Rumor is because his wife disappeared,” he quietly answered, “No one knows for sure, though.”

Lilith. In heaven. She’s in heaven.

You stopped. “Hey, uh, you’re above the Goetia, right?” you suddenly asked.

Satan turned to you, brow furrowed. “Yeah. Why?”

“So, it’d be easier for you to set up a meeting with Lucifer if you needed it?” you continued.

He rocked back on his heels, nodding with a slow smile. “That I can,” he said, “I’ll even escort you myself.”

“You would?”

“Absolutely,” he said, winking. His smile turned wicked and he hooked his arm through yours. “C’mon. We’ll go now.”

“What!” You tugged your arm free, stumbling off the curb, “No! I—I cannot see him right now, but I—”

“Why not?” Satan stared down at you, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watched you, “‘s not like you did something wrong to get here, right?”

Traitor.

“No,” you answered, rubbing your arms, “Just not ready.” You swallowed, squeezing your elbows, then sighed. “Thanks for walking with me. I’m going home.”

“Want me to—”

You held up a hand. “I can walk myself, thank you, Satan,” you replied with a smile. He nodded. “Have a good night.”

“Hey,” he called before you got too far. You looked back. “Find me in the Wrath Ring if you wanna talk, alright?” He waved a hand. “Elevator’s out the southern gate. We can hit Luci’s on the way back,” he said with a sly smile.

You nodded. “Yeah. Alright.”

Your phone beeped before you got too far, and you glanced at the screen. A text from Satan flashed across the top, with an address disappearing in the tiny message field. You opened it as pulled it up on the map to see it was the address for a gym in the Wrath Ring.

You smiled, shoved your phone into your pocket, and went home.

It took you a while before you contacted him again – weeks of testing your wings around the cramped halls, sitting in the library with Stolas while he gossiped, hiding in the study with Via when her parents started screaming again.

When one particular screaming match got too loud, you asked if she wanted to head out of the house with you.

She shook her head. “No,” she mumbled, “I’ll be alright here. I’ve got the new VoxTek headphones, they work wonders.”

You nodded. “You call me if it gets too bad, alright?”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

You stood, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “Uh,” you trailed off, staring at it, then gave her a small smile, “I’m gonna go see a friend.”

She nodded. “Alright,” then she sighed and tried to smile, too, “Be careful.”

You hugged her gently and made sure she knew to call you if she needed you before you left.

Leaving a babe to the wolves.

You slowed as you walked away from the house, glancing back with second thoughts, but kept heading for the closest bus station. It didn’t cost much to catch a bus out of Pentagram City – you had to show your I.D., prove you weren’t a sinner before you were allowed on the bus – and it was a short ride to the Elevator. A ticket down was another small price, as was the ticket in the Wrath Ring to get where you were going, but it wasn’t terrible.

You would have to thank Stolas later for allowing you to use his card places. And think of a way to pay him back.

Once you were close to the address of the gym, you sent a text to Satan.

He was at the stop when your bus pulled up. His suit was burgundy. You had to rub your eyes to clear the image of his blonde twin from them.

“Coulda told me you were on your way,” he mused as you approached.

You shrugged and took his offered arm. “It was kind of a whim,” you said, “Needed to get out of the house.”

“Not all great in paradise?” he asked.

You snorted. “Paradise doesn’t exist anymore, Satan,” you murmured.

He squeezed your arm and steered you towards a squat building between two high rises. “You know how to fight?” Satan asked as he held the door open for you.

You ducked under his arm, glancing around the dingy gym, then up at him. “A little. But I’m pretty rusty.”

“Oh, we can get you back into tip top shape here,” Satan mused. He stepped past you, whistling as he led you through the gym. You passed a few rings, some with groups that were teaching each other, some with sparing matches, and one with someone fighting with a robot jester. You paused at that, staring curiously, and hurried after Satan before he got too far.

There was a bag hanging in a back corner, next to an office, and he stopped there, shedding his coat and rolling up his sleeves.

He looks so much like him.

“Do you need to change?” Satan asked as he wrapped an arm around the bag, watching you, “Or did you come ready?”

You flapped your hands, looking down at your sweatshirt and shorts, then back up at him. “Ready?” you asked.

He grinned, then slapped the bag. “Alright!” he exclaimed, “Here’s the thing about anger, there’s not one correct way to redirect it. But, giving in and just going into a blind rage doesn’t benefit anyone.” He leaned around the bag, slowly circling you. “Take it from me. Or you, you’ve had those moments, haven’t you?”

“Is that why you asked me to come here?” you asked.

“Oh, no, that’s not the only reason,” he said with a shrug, “We also needed another pretty face around here besides Sizzler.”

You would have been flattered if you weren’t confused. “Sizzler?”

He threw an arm around your shoulder and turned you, pointing to the robot jester. “Satan’s Fizzbot, A.K.A. my Fizzbot, A.K.A Sizzler,” he explained.

The jester, Sizzler, looked up and waved. You waved back.

Satan squeezed your shoulders and turned you back towards the bag. “So,” he said, his voice dropping into a familiar tone that threw you off, “I can tell you’re holding back something.” He curled his hand towards his chest like he was holding water. “It’s boiling in there. Or freezing. Hard to pinpoint with you. But you’re angry.” He whispered the last voice in your ear.

Traitor.

You swallowed the words.

“What is it, hm? What’s the thing that’s got you rocking on the edge of a completely red black-out?” he cooed.

Traitor.

Your eyes fluttered as a memory snuck up from the back of your mind, one that set your teeth together and hurt your jaw.

You remembered Gabriel flying around Heaven to find you, and barreling into your back when he did. He was babbling, squeezing your arms and pulling you down a road.

“Gabriel, what’s happening?” you finally managed to get in.

He was teary, and ichor dotted his face. “Michael’s beating the shit out of Lucifer,” he whispered, panting, “Dad’s busy and Luci did something and Dad told Michael to take care of it and Michael’s beating the shit out of him!”

“Where.”

Gabriel hauled you after him, flying far faster than you could keep up with, until he brought you to a group of angels. You shoved your way through them and caught a panting Lucifer as he was thrown to the side. You both collapsed, you holding Luci up as his legs buckled under him.

Michael towered over the both of you, chest heaving, his right hand clenched tight at his side. His knuckles dripped gold.

“Do you understand what you’ve done?” Michael hissed, bending at the waist to stare into his brother’s face. “Do you understand?” he breathlessly repeated.

Lucifer swallowed, bracing a hand against your forearm as he tried to get his feet under him.

“Father has restart with a new first woman for Adam because you can’t keep your hands to yourself!” Michael’s voice rose until he was screaming.

“Luci, what did you do?” you whispered.

He glanced at you for a split second, then returned his gaze to Michael. “She doesn’t want to be with him,” he rasped.

“And who told her that she has another choice?!”

“She shouldn’t have to be with him if she doesn’t want to!” Lucifer shouted back.

Michael grabbed the front of Luci’s robes and hauled him off you. “She won’t be allowed here because she directly disobeyed Father’s rules!!” Michael’s voice boomed around the crowd, “And you’ve dammed her to roam or be anywhere else but here!”

“How is that fair!?” Lucifer snapped, “She doesn’t want to be with Adam and now she can’t even fucking leave?!”

He was dropped at your feet. The ring of angels around you all stepped back. Michael stared down at his brother with barely contained frustration. “There is no fair, Lucifer,” he flatly replied, “There’s Father’s rule, and it is not to be broken.”

He proved him wrong, didn’t he?

“Well?” Satan’s teasing growl snapped you back to the gym, “What is it?” He tapped your temple and moved around to the bag. “C’mon,” he sang, “I can feel it brewing in there.”

You swallowed. Your back and shoulders ached and it took you a minute to realize you were tensing at the memory. You rubbed your neck with both hands. “What do I do to deal with it?” you asked.

Satan braced against the back of the bag and smacked a worn section of it with a grin. “Hit it. Hard as you can. And we’ll go from there.”

The last few months of your first year in Hell were spent in a pattern – wake up, talk with Via, talk with Stolas, go for a walk, head to Wrath, avoid thinking about how you still weren’t able to see Lucifer, listen to the nagging thoughts continue to echo in your head until they manifested in gold stains on your hand wraps.

Traitor.

Liar.

How cowardly you must be to hide what happened from him.

You stared at your swollen knuckles as you shuffled to the library one evening, rubbing an ache from between your fingers that you pretended wasn’t also building behind your eyes. Meeting Stolas in the library was a change from your spiraling pattern – he’d asked you to meet him once you’d returned from Wrath, and you were quick to clean yourself up before joining him.

He perked up as you entered the room, standing and waving you over to the large window behind his desk. It was covered in pillows and soft blankets, and a tray of tea was waiting on the desk nearby.

“Oh, you’re in time,” he cooed, his smile dropping as he took your hands. “What is that Satan doing to you?”

You wiggled your fingers in his grasp. “I’m doing it to myself,” you muttered. You cleared your throat and waved towards the window. “What’s this?” you asked.

Stolas skittered past you, waving at the set up. “Oh, this!” he chirped, “I thought we could sit through the extermination together.” He smiled, his shoulders hunching up hopefully. “Try to pass it as best as friends are able,” he added.

You watched him, tearing up a little, and finally smiled. “I’d like that,” you whispered.

He ushered you to the window and lifted the blanket for you to sit. You took it from him and covered your legs, sinking back into the plush pillows behind you. He picked up the tea and hurried back to you with a cheerful smile. “You know, it’s been one year since you’ve arrived in Hell.”

You looked up and took the cup of tea he offered you. “Has it?”

“That it has,” he cooed. He sat next to you, lifting the edge of the blanket to tuck his legs next to yours. He filled the opposite corner and looked out the window. “Well, almost. You arrived after it was over.”

“So, not quite a year,” you teased.

Stolas smiled. “We could count it down,” he mused. His smile faltered when you looked away. “Sorry,” he was quick to apologize.

“Don’t be,” you murmured. You sipped your tea slowly and watched the portal open in the distance. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, “I really don’t understand.”

“The exterminations?” he asked. You nodded. “I’m not too knowledgeable of them myself,” he sighed, adjusting his feet, tucking his knees up and his feet next to your thigh. “From what I understand, they’ve been going on for centuries, indiscriminate. Only recently did people notice that they went from killing everyone they could in an hour to only killing Sinners.”

“Recently?” you asked.

He nodded. “It was actually the extermination that occurred when you arrived,” he said, tilting his head, “That was the first that had been exclusive to the Pride Ring.”

There was a silence as you stared at him, trying to piece together what he was saying.

What did you do?

“Luci let this happen?” you quietly asked, “Just let people die?”

Stolas didn’t speak. He stood up, instead, folding the blanket into your lap, and padded over to his desk in the library. He tugged open the bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of amber alcohol from it. He returned to his spot, wiggled the cork out with his beak, and tipped a little into your tea.

“I don’t think he had much of a choice, dear,” he whispered. He topped his own tea off and set the bottle on the ground, tucking his legs back under the blanket. “From my position, and this is just a guess, of course, I don’t think even Hell has the power to argue when a Heavenly platoon drops from the sky, armed to the teeth, and killing anyone they can while avoiding my front yard.” He sipped the tea. “Would you? If you were in Lucifer’s position?”

“Would I what?” you asked.

“Fight back,” he clarified.

Beaten down for centuries.

You stared at your boozy tea. “No,” you finally rasped, taking a sip, “He probably thinks he deserves it. Probably thinks his brothers commanded it to happen.”

A light flashed in the distance, and the portal to Heaven opened.

Stolas held out his cup for a toast, swallowing down his sadness as he watched you. “To your one-year anniversary, my angel,” he said with a faint smile.

You snorted, clinking your cup against his. “Your angel?”

“Ah, well, it’s a better nickname than others I could think of,” he replied, “And it’s not wrong.” He wiggled back into the corner of the seat. “Now. Come morning, I have a lot planned – we’ll go shopping, have a nice lunch. We can bring Via.”

“And Stella?”

“Fuck no.”

You laughed a little. The sound died in your throat as the first scream of the extermination reached the window. Stolas scrunched into himself at the sound.

“You know,” you whispered, “I miss him.” You sniffed and took a long drink of your tea, then picked up the bottle and filled it with alcohol. You vaguely recognized Bel’s label on the side. “I’ve missed him for a very, very long time.”

“Lucifer?” he asked. You nodded. “Well,” he trailed off as he finished his own tea, and took the bottle fill his cup, then placed it on the floor by his hip. “Tell me about him?” he asked.

You squeezed your cup between your hands and leaned your head on the cool window. “I uh,” you cleared your throat, “I wasn’t part of the first angels that were made. I think the third? And I was a part of the Dominion that made the cosmos. Michael said that Lucifer wanted to learn a little bit of everything when it came to creation, so after I’d gotten used to it, he said that I would have a student.”

You remembered it fondly.

You spun the heavenly light you were given into a small orb, adjusting the size to fit into a larger spiral galaxy you were piecing together. There were other seraphim creating other galaxies and designing where they were fit into the great span of the universe.

Michael called your name, and you spun so fast that you scattered the stars at the tip of your galaxy.

The other angel with him caught the few stars that rolled past him.

“This is Lucifer,” Michael introduced with a smile, ushering the angel to you, “My brother.”

“Oh, hello!” you greeted with a smile, taking the stars he returned to you. “I’ve seen you, I think. You’re helping with the Earth project, right?”

Lucifer nodded, floating closer to your galaxy to place the stars you couldn’t hold around the frayed end of your spiral. “Yeah! I’m trying to learn a bit of everything.” He grinned. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“It’s my specialty,” you replied. You added your stars to fill in the last spaces of the galaxy.

“There’s been talk of adding stars to Earth,” Michael said, smoothing out the stars to finish the galaxy off, “So, I thought that the two of you could work on that while you teach Lucifer a thing or two about making stars.”

“Can we make them into things?” Lucifer asked as your galaxy was taken away to be added to the large blueprint of the universe, “Like shapes?”

“Why not?” you asked, smiling. He brightened. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes, actually, I call it a duck,” he was quick to answer. Michael’s eyes widened a bit, and he shook his head as he turned away. “I thought we could make one with the stars?”

“Can you show me what you want it to look like?”

Stolas started to laugh as you explained details of the multiple sketches of different ducks that Lucifer had. You giggled, squeezing your knees with one arm while you waved your empty cup with the other. “Every constellation would have been a duck if he’d had his way!” you exclaimed.

“Did he make them?” Stolas asked, “Ducks?”

“He did, actually,” you admitted, nodding, “Luci had a pretty heavy hand in a lot of the birds on Earth but ducks were his creation. If I remember right, that’s actually how he first saw Lilith. She was watching a duck in the river.”

“You know, I don’t recall a duck constellation,” he said as he leaned back.

“There’s not,” you agreed, “It’s Cygnus.” Stolas choked on a drink and coughed as he tried to laugh. “He messed up the design and made its neck too long. When I looked at it after, the stars had already settled into place and we couldn’t fix it.”

You thumped your head against the window and glanced outside, finding the portal to Heaven small and closed, and the smoke from their extermination slowly rising into the air.

“Now’s your anniversary,” Stolas said. He took your cup and refilled it, then handed it back. “Tell me more stories.”

You squeezed the cup again and nodded. “I’d like that.”

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