Chapter Text
“You leave us with no choice.”
“You brought this upon yourself!”
“How dare you go behind our backs, behind Mother’s back! Do we mean nothing to you?!”
The voices were getting louder. Too loud. Too much. The light in the room was too bright. The chains holding him down were too heavy, and dug into his skin uncomfortably. Everywhere around him, angels were speaking over one another, yelling, and making too much noise.
He was also in too much shock to react. The words replayed over and over in his head, yet nothing made sense.
Punishment.
Banishment.
Fall.
How did it all come to this? He’d only ever wanted to give humanity a choice. To give humanity free will so that they know what they’re getting themselves into when they make decisions. How had a seemingly benign choice led to…led to…
He looked up. The room had fallen away to reveal two figures, one clad in blue and one in violet. Both of them were staring at him with twin expressions of disappointment, betrayal, and anger. Both of them carried a sword forged from the purest celestial steel — he should know, he had been there to watch the whole process ages ago.
Ages ago, they had been inseparable and shared the closest bond of siblinghood known in heaven. They used to look at him with utter adoration, and care, and they used to promise that nothing would ever separate them. Their eyes used to be so gentle, and so loving.
There was only sadness in those eyes, now. Sadness, anger, and heartbreak. He could see the emotions flicker through their eyes, fleeting and brief.
And yet, none of those emotions had included a single ounce of pity as they gazed down at his trembling form.
“D-Don’t do it,” he tried, again. The marble flooring was cold against his tattered robes. Has Heaven always been this cold? “p-please…I don’t want—I don’t—”
They were standing on an archway. There were plenty of archways in Heaven. Some were gilded, others were plain, but they all shared a thing in common: they soared to majestic heights, and easily dwarfed all heavenfolk with their sheer size.
They also made for perfectly long drops.
The two figures inched closer. He found himself scrabbling to scoot backwards frantically. His wings were pressed tightly against his back, quivering and drawn.
“I-I’ll go down myself, I swear!” He tried again, drawing his arms tighter over his injured torso. Another movement backwards. “I won’t cause anymore trouble, please! I promise!”
“The Council’s word is the law, Samael.” The blue one said, voice as hard as stone and giving not a single emotion away. The sword in his hand pulsed with a blue, celestial glow as he spoke. “You are to be stripped of your wings, and thrown down. Do not try to make this more difficult than it should be.”
His face crumbled into one of pure, utter panic. The violet-clad angel stepped forward without a word, expression shuttered, holding a sword similar to the one in the blue-clad angel’s hands.
“Michael– Gabriel, please,” he was only mere inches away from the archway’s edge now. He had also recognised where he had seen this particular archway before – it was the same one that he had been running along with a carefree laugh merely two weeks ago. It felt like forever ago. “Please don’t do this, I can’t…I…they are–”
“I’ll take the left side.” The violet angel spoke over his increasingly frantic pleadings. His voice was clinical and toneless – a far cry from the warm, playful tones that he had grown to know and love. “You take the other?”
“Of course.” The blue angel replied stiffly. Not a single shred of hesitance could be heard in either of their voices.
“Please reconsider, please,” he cried, as his siblings drew closer, blades glinting dangerously in the light of the heavenly sun, “I don’t– I don’t want to die, I swear I will do what is told of me, just don’t–”
He never managed to finish his sentence. The two swords in the angels’ hands grew in size, getting bigger, and bigger, until they resembled two deadly butcher knives encased in searing celestial flames that danced wildly against the bright, heavenly skies.
Time seemed to come to a standstill. His eyes could only trace the graceful arc the blades descended in, cleaving through the air and slicing downwards.
There was no sensation, at first. All he could register was how numb everything was. There was also a lot of gold. Gold on white robes, gold on white flooring, gold everywhere. Something dislodged from his back. There was more gold. His back felt wet, and oddly light.
For a moment, all he could see was gold on white. Gold on white on more white and more white. He dimly registered that the white pooling around his frame were his own wings, still whole, still twitching and sparking angelic essence.
For a moment, he felt nothing.
And then, the agony hit.
He dimly registered someone screaming, a single note of pure, utter anguish. All at once, it felt as if his body was put through the brunt of the heat of Creation itself. It was as if the boiling temperatures of all the stars in the universe had been branded into his skin, or if someone had taken the strongest celestial flame and lit it directly into his back. It was burning, but it was freezing at the same time. His senses zeroed onto the feeling of his own blood cascading down his shoulder blades, drenching his robes in sickly and sticky gold.
His throat felt raw. Was it— was it him? Was he screaming? He couldn’t tell anymore. He couldn’t tell where his existence ended and where the pain began.
“Seraphim Samael.” His brother was speaking again, tone clipped and voice as icy as the nebulae they used to hang up together in the skies. “From this moment forth, you no longer have a place in Heaven, and you will be forbidden from ever stepping a foot through these gates for as long as existence continues. You are to only dwell in the darkness, and never set eyes upon those which are divine, ever again.”
He could not reply even if he wanted to. He had no idea how he was still conscious when his entire back was searing with white-hot flames that only intensified with every minute movement he made. He couldn’t even curl in on himself without his vision blurring from the agony.
“I, Michael, Sword of God, hereby decree you to be Fallen.”
And suddenly, he was no longer on the cold, marbled ground. There was a hand dragging him up from his arm, and he could not stop the broken keens of pain from escaping his lips at the rough treatment jostling his already-raw back. Blindly, he clung onto the arm desperately, trying oh-so hard to stave off the inevitable. He had only wanted to help. He had only wanted to give humanity a choice, he had only wanted to do Heaven proud, to open their eyes to the limitless potential of people, to show them that he could do something, to– to–
“Goodbye, brother.”
And suddenly, he was weightless.
And suddenly, the searing burns in his back paled in comparison to the sensation of being cooked alive, and of being thrown into a boiling sea as celestial flames melted his flesh from his bone. That was how it had felt as he careened through the skies, in too much pain to even cry out and in too much shock to even scream. He watched as his arms gradually blackened and charred from the flames encasing his entire body. He watched as his home spiralled further and further away from his vision until all he could see was a pale speckle of gold in the sky.
All he could do was fall, and feel the acrid taste of sulfur bring tears to his eyes and suffocate him alive. All he could do was fall prey to the corruption and the miasma of darkness he’d accidentally created creeping into every essence of his being and tainting his soul. All he could hear was the howl of the wind that threatened to deafen him, and all he could feel was the sky burning him alive as he fell,
and fell, and fell, with no one to catch him, with only the memory of the disgusted looks on his brothers’ faces seared into his mind for an eternity to come, and –
—
Lucifer jolted awake to the phantom sensation of heavenly fire searing down his arms. His wings shot out from behind his back, knocking away everything in his immediate vicinity as the memories of them being cut from his body played itself on loop over and over in his mind. He could still picture the twin looks of disappointment and disgust in his brothers’ expressions despite it being almost ancient history by now – the mental image sent a shudder down the King of Hell’s spine. He doubled over on his bed with a strangled sound, hands shooting up to muffle the escaping cry as his wings came over his frame to shield him from the nonexistent eyes of Heaven in his bedroom.
When was the last time he’d had such a vivid dream about his Fall? Lucifer couldn’t really remember anymore – his nightmares usually consisted of Lilith, nowadays, or of harm befalling Charlie, or about other details surrounding his Fall rather than the Fall itself. It had been quite some time since he had to relive the pain of looking into dear Michael and Gabriel’s faces, or had to experience the sensation of Falling all over again.
He hated it.
Lucifer flopped onto the bed with a small groan, and drew his knees up to his chest in a futile attempt to calm his frazzled nerves down. The words, spoken so long ago, kept themselves fresh in his mind.
Punishment.
Banishment.
Your fault.
Traitor.
“I just wanted to help.” the angel whispered, voice small and strained for nobody to hear. He had lost count of the number of times he’d ever uttered this statement over the last ten thousand years, truthfully. Nobody had heard him, either, back then, so he supposed that there wasn’t really anything different there. His throat constricted painfully around his words, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the influx of tears that threatened to fall. “I just…wanted to prove something. To show you something. I didn’t mean to ..to-”
He blinked his eyes open, feeling the wetness trickle down his cheeks. His breath stuttered in his chest, and he felt the familiar vestiges of panic beginning to coil around his throat and squeezing the air out of it. His gaze flickered around the room wildly, desperately searching for something, anything, to keep himself from falling prey to the clutches of his mind until they landed on a family portrait sitting innocently on a wall somewhere to his left.
The words dried up in Lucifer’s mouth as he stared at it – a beautiful portrait of himself, Lilith, and their darling Charlie smiled back at him, almost mocking him on to finish his sentence. He didn’t mean to what? Create hell? Create sin? Create all the fucked up things that now tainted Her great vision of the world?
No. At least, not anymore. For how could Lucifer say that he didn’t mean to create Hell when Charlie ended up being the best thing in the world, and she had come from Hell? Not from Earth, certainly not from Heaven, but from the place that he had created.
No – Lucifer refused to believe that anymore. Hell might be, well, hell , but he was slowly learning that it wasn’t as completely desolate as he’d led himself to believe for most of his existence. There was Charlie, for one, who was the brightest beacon in the perpetual darkness that he’d ever seen. There were also souls who were capable of redemption, such as Angel Dust, and more recently, the little snake fellow Sir Pentious who had actually gone and redeemed himself into Heaven, good for him. Even the annoying jerks like Alastor had a part in making Hell unique, he supposed.
It was not all too bad. Hell was not all too bad.
Lucifer let the thoughts in his mind slowly push him away from the edges of panic. He forcefully released the tension from his shoulders, and unfurled his feathery cocoon from around himself to sit up, albeit unsteadily.
“Well,” he said, to no one in particular, forcing out a chuckle, and was gladdened to hear that his voice only cracked slightly, “that was one way to start the morning, huh?” He looked around his bedroom, taking in the visual cues his daughter had placed around the room that served to calm him down whenever he did work himself up into episodes such as the one he nearly had. His eyes were immediately drawn to a spot of yellow on the ground by his bed.
There, in all his little rubber duckie glory, Crowley the duck laid sadly on his back.
“Oh, god, Crowley!” He yelped, scrambling to get out of bed and scooping up the poor dear, “I’m so sorry! Gah, I didn’t mean to knock you over, I swear, I…”
Lucifer’s rambles trailed off as his eyes landed on the fallen calendar next to Crowley. There, circled and underlined about a bajillion times with red ink, was a date with a singular activity written, all in capital letters.
HEAVENLY COUNCIL SPOTCHECK. 11-18 NOVEMBER.
“Fuck, it’s today ?!” The King yelped, and almost dropped Crowley once again. He replaced the red-haired duck onto his nightstand apologetically before scrambling upwards and tottering around the room in a right panic, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, SHIT, it’s today? Oh, god, I could have sworn it’s tomorrow, what the heck?”
It would, at the very least, explain his stupid nightmare. Lucifer dearly hoped that he had woken up at a relatively decent time. He spared a glance at the little duck-shaped clock that had also fallen off his bedside table, praying desperately that when he picked it up, it would read 7am, and not 7pm, because he had promised Charlie to help her with decorating the place and if he had missed the entire welcome reception altogether, he was actually going to drop dead from not only the guilt of an empty promise but also from the mortification of not being there in person to rub it in Michael’s and Gabriel’s faces that he was still standing after the humiliation he had faced from them aeons ago.
“Please, pleaseplease please …” Lucifer whispered frantically, squeezing his eyes shut and slowly picking up the alarm clock. He peeked an eye open just a sliver to check the little red digits emblazoned across the digital screen, heart hammering against his chest.
The clock read 8:45am.
Lucifer let out a sigh he had not known he’d been holding in. Relief flooded through his veins and the King tossed his alarm clock onto the bed with a triumphant ‘ WHOOP’ .
“I didn’t oversleep! Hear ye, hear ye!” He cheered, with a delighted little prance and a slightly-manic grin. What’d they say about small steps? This was a leap if he’d ever seen one! Waking up on time, and pulling himself out of an anxiety spiral before it got too far? Take that, mental health issues! He wasn’t going to miss such a large milestone in Charlie’s life even if fate itself laughed in his face and said no!
With a hum, Lucifer snapped his fingers and effortlessly fixed up his appearance for the day. Combed hair, pressed clothes – check. Cane – check. An upbeat and enthusiastic attitude to compensate for the inevitable discomfort at having to be around his former siblings after ten thousand years? Check.
He was ready.
With a hum and a spring in his step, Lucifer waved a hand to fix up the mess in his bedroom before taking a deep breath and throwing the door leading to the rest of the hotel open.
He almost ran face-first into Charlie on his way out.
“Oh, Dad, you’re up!” His girl exclaimed, her whole face lighting up upon spotting him. Lucifer had exactly one moment to bask in the warm glow of pride that flooded through his veins at actually being there for Charlie’s big day before she was dragging him away from his room and down the stairs, excited chatter bursting from her lips.
“They’ll be here within the hour! You’re just in time to help us with the balloon sculptures, I don’t think any of us really know how to do that. Oh! We also need your opinion on the overall layout of the hall – do you think it looks fine? I insisted on more gold and white stuff because, well, I assume that Heaven is into that, but you should know this best! Do you think I overdid it? Do you think I need to add more ? I think I did the right amount of overdoing, but Vaggie and Angel seemed to disagree, but I am telling you that it’s not overdoing if you’re playing into the theme, and–!”
“Woah,” Lucifer laughed, taking one of Charlie’s hands into his own to calm her down from her excited spiel, “slow down there, Duckie, I think I lost you at balloon sculptures. How far are you along with the decorations, now?”
Charlie cleared her throat sheepishly, and threw an embarrassed grin at him. God, she reminded Lucifer of himself so much, at times. “ Ahem . Sorry ‘bout that, Dad,” she grinned, “We’re almost done decorating. I’m just…I can’t believe it’s actually happening. I can’t believe that Heaven actually agreed to give our hotel a chance, Dad. It feels like all our hard work is finally paying off, and I’m so excited I think I could float off into the clouds right now!”
Lucifer let his daughter’s infectious excitement push aside any lingering doubts and worry he had regarding Heaven’s whole deal for her hotel. Perhaps he would let himself believe in Heaven actually having their best interests at heart, this time. This whole visit had, after all, been the fruit of countless delegation and diplomatic sessions between himself and Sera, many of which had been so ridiculously passive-aggressive and long-drawn that Lucifer had thought, on multiple occasions, of simply flipping the table and yelling at the hopelessness of the whole endeavour.
And yet, miraculously, here they were, an hour away from Heaven’s first official delegated inspection of Hazbin Hotel to see if it was fit for operations. The only downside to the arrangement was that Heaven had decided to send in their top two big guys from the word go. That…was probably going to be the most awkward family reunion Lucifer’s ever had. He genuinely wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.
But for now, he pushed aside those thoughts and levelled his brightest grin at Charlie. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. “What’d I tell you, hmm, Duckie?” he asked, elbowing her playfully. “Just leave it to dear ‘ole dad, and I won’t steer you wrong! King’s words.”
Charlie laughed brightly. She brought her other hand up to clasp Lucifer’s, before deciding to go one step further and drawing him into a full-bodied hug. “Thank you, Dad.” She whispered quietly, voice quivering slightly. Lucifer felt his own grin soften into a genuine smile as he returned the gesture readily, marvelling at how lucky he was to actually be allowed this moment, to be able to be there for Charlie and actually be her father when it mattered. “I’m glad you’re here with us. With me . Truly, I…I had always dreamed of this.”
The wetness in Lucifer’s eyes was not completely unsurprising. The angel tightened his hold on his daughter. “Me too, Charlie.” He whispered, quietly. “Me too.”
–
“Alright, everyone! Heaven is going to be here in half an hour, and we need to make sure everything is perfect, so listen up!” Charlie announced, standing on a table as thought it was a makeshift podium.
Lucifer leaned against a wall at the far side of the room as he listened to Charlie. He let his eyes roam around the length of the arrival-turned-reception hall, falling onto the various little decorations that they had done within the last half an hour. Somewhere in a corner, a boat full of little balloon sculpture animals sat on a table. Lucifer didn’t really know the full details of the Mesapotamia flood that had happened all those years ago, only that it had caused a huge spike in Hell’s population, but he figured that either way, Gabriel would appreciate the reference. Maybe. Did Gabriel ever speak with Noah? Hell if he knew, honestly. He hadn’t been in contact with anyone from Heaven save for Sera for as long as he’d been down here.
Streamers, ribbons and banners lined every available space along the walls in the hall. Lucifer had to tell Charlie that the white and gold were too much of an overkill, in the end, and that she should introduce more colours into the decoration scheme. What they had ended up with was a palette of whites and golds, splashed with little bursts of red, pink and purple, thanks to the contributions of the other residents of the hotel. Lucifer personally thought it looked great.
There was a whole table lined with freshly-baked cookies, courtesy of Niffty. Lucifer had secretly miracled the cookies to remove any traces of poison, when no one had been looking. He doubted that either of his former brothers would appreciate eating a cookie stuffed with hellrat poison and getting a particularly bad case of an upset stomach on their first day of inspections, no matter how funny the idea was.
“ – his Majesty for an opinion?”
Lucifer was rudely pulled out of his thoughts by none other than the annoyingly-chipper voice of one radio demon Overlord turned bellhop of the hotel. He blinked, and panicked when he realised that he’d gone and spaced out on the whole conversation. The entire room was now looking at him expectantly, and Lucifer suddenly felt that his shirt collar was way too hot.
“Uhm.” He said, eloquently, with a strained smile. “My, uh. Opinion? On…on, what, exactly?”
Thankfully, Charlie did not seem to take it in stride. “Your opinion on how we should act around the Heavenly Ambassadors, Dad.” She repeated Alastor’s words, clasping her hands. “I mean, I don’t think any of us know Gabriel or Michael better than you do! Sooo…if there is anything that we should or shouldn’t do in front of them, now would be a great time to tell us!”
Ah. In hindsight, he really should have expected the question.
If it were possible, the smile on Lucifer’s face became even more strained as he racked his brain for a good answer for everyone. Were there things that they needed to look out for in the presence of their Holinesses? The answer was yes, obviously, but that was when Lucifer had known them back before everything had happened. How could he be sure that things hadn’t changed in ten thousand years? What if they had a complete attitude uphaul? What if they were so different that Lucifer wouldn’t even be able to recognise them anymore?
It was as if the reality of the situation had decided to fully crash into him just then. Oh, God, he really was doing this, wasn’t he? He was going to be facing Michael, and Gabriel, after ten thousand fucking years of zero contact. He was going to see their faces once again, and be under the same roof as them for the next one week after ten thousand years of no contact . He was going to look them in the eye again, and see the disgust they feel for him, and remember the same look of disgust present on their faces the last time he saw them, which was when they had raised their blade against him, and carved his wings from his back , and –
A brief flash of their faces drifted through his memory. Was he crazy, or could he still hear the wind howling as he plummeted through the sky? Still see the look in Michael’s eyes as he hurled him down the archway without a care? He’d never thought that the gentle eyes of Michael were ever capable of being so, so cold . He’d never thought that Gabriel’s voice, usually so playful and bright, was capable of sounding so detached and emotionless. Clearly, angels were capable of changing. If they had already changed so much then, what if they had only changed even more since then?
…Perhaps he was less alright with their impending visit than he’d thought.
“I mean, what’s there t’ really watch out about, anyway?” Husk grunted from the bar area, yanking Lucifer out from his rapidly-spiralling thoughts unceremoniously. He’d never been more glad to hear the gruff voice in that moment. The bartender seemed to be aggressively stacking whisky glasses like little block towers on the side. “Buncha pretentious assholes we gotta play nice to. What’s new?”
“Ah—ahahaha!” Lucifer had the distinct feeling that he’d remained quiet for way too long. He yanked out the first coherent thought that his brain was able to formulate, and his mouth scrambled to fill in the silence before his common sense could truly catch up to what he was saying. “Husk is right, actually! Those two? Ha, uh, just don’t go against them or challenge them too directly, yeah.”
He smiled awkwardly, scratching absently at his charred forearms — one of the constant, ugly reminders every day of how much Falling from heaven had changed him. “Just, uh, y’know. So they don’t have an excuse of smiting you with their holy blades or anything. Have you ever seen those things? They’re like, normal angelic weapons, but they grow in size. Crazy, isn’t it? They grow into these…big…blade things that are capable of cutting through anything, and you definitely don’t want anything like that near you, I’m telling you! Trust me — I’ve been on the wrong end of those blades before, and hoh boy, they hurt , a lot! So, uh.”
Lucifer’s lips pulled into a bright grin that felt way too large on his face. He hoped that it didn’t come off as too forced. “Yeah. Don’t make them angry. An angry Michael and Gabriel are a Michael and Gabriel who won’t hesitate to smite you.”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence when he finished speaking and it took all of Lucifer’s willpower to not drop the bright grin on his face. Fuck — he’d gone and ruined the whole atmosphere, hadn’t he? Why had he opened his stupid mouth and said something so demoralising? God, couldn’t he have said something normal, like ‘ oh, they don’t like beans! Don’t give them any kind of beans, especially baked beans, alright? ’
Stupid.
Husk was the first one to recover. The bartender swept a look over Lucifer with a critical eye, looking for all the world like he was trying to find the answers of the universe on his face. Then, as if satisfied with what he had found, the bartender resumed his whisky glass stacking activity.
“Sibling issues.” He said, with a sombre nod. “I see.”
Charlie seemed to recover next. With a voice as equally bright as Lucifer’s, she clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “Whoo! You heard it firsthand from my dad, everyone! No doing things that’ll make them uncomfortable, alright? That means no showing them the BDSM cave, Angel.”
The spider pouted from where he was draped all over the sofa. “Awwh man,” he complained with an exaggerated whine, “but it’s unique !”
“It really isn’t.” Vaggie rolled her eyes from where she had been straightening a balloon horse. “That’s probably the surefast way to scare them off. But, also…in any case, I agree with Lucifer. I might not know the higher up angels in the Council, but…Heaven in general is just, kinda…”
“Fixated?” Lucifer offered helpfully.
Vaggie smiled at the choice of words. “Yes. Fixated. On their ideas. And they really, really like to, uh…”
“Think that they could only be right and do no wrong and if you challenge the status quo you’re automatically wrong?” Lucifer offered, once more.
“Exactly. So…Charlie, sweetheart,” Vaggie said, shooting her girlfriend a stern, yet worried look, “please, please try not to push them too much. For, well. We really don’t need another repeat of what happened in that Councilchamber.”
Lucifer had heard the full story of what Charlie and Vaggie had gone through in Heaven shortly after they had renovated the hotel. He couldn’t say that he was surprised at the turnout, what with Adam being there and easily playing up his ‘God’s Favourite Human’ card to glaze right through any important discussion that they should have been having. If he were being honest…it had seemed like Heavenly council meetings hadn’t changed one bit since he’d been the one they casted judgement upon. He decided to push that thought away before it could fester again.
His daughter waved away the concern with a rather high-strung laugh. “I know, I know. ” She placated. “We need to play nice! I can do that! I can definitely do that! I’ll be so nice that they won’t even have anything bad to say about the hotel! And we will finally be able to achieve what we started out to do! All we have to do is play nice!”
Oh, Lucifer recognised the beginnings of panic if he ever saw it. In a flash, he dissolved from his spot by the far corner of the room in a mist of red and gold, and reappeared next to Charlie, taking her hand in his and giving a reassuring squeeze.
“Duckie.” He said, and was surprised how steady his voice came out. It was rather impressive how easily he was able to push aside his own issues in order to make sure that Charlie was alright. She cut off, mid ramble, to stare at him.
“It’ll be fine, alright?” The angel murmured, covering his daughter’s hand with his other palm. “Don’t stress too hard about it. We will all do our part in making sure that they realise how much potential this hotel has. They’re gonna have no choice but to realise how much potential this place has. Alright?”
Charlie gave him a wobbly smile that slowly solidified into a genuine one as she squeezed back. “I…yeah.” She replied, softly, taking a deep breath. “We will do it. We can do it!”
Lucifer grinned as his daughter’s confident tone gradually reappeared in her words as she said the last line. “That’s my girl.”
“As much as it pains me to say it, I have to agree with his Majesty!” Alastor piped up from his position, his signature smile in place. “Fret not, dear Charlie, for we are all in this together, and they will recognise the team effort that we have put in by the end of the week.”
Lucifer rolled his eyes despite himself. “Team effort?” He said, disbelief colouring his tone. “You just stood there for the entire time we’ve been putting the place together, you fucking bellhop, what team effort are you talking about?”
Alastor’s grin got just a little more shit-eating. “Why, I was overseeing the activities, of course, as a good hotelier would! That’s not the same as just standing there .”
Oh, the utter bullshit of that statement and the guy— Lucifer snorted at the radio demon’s words, and shrugged. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, pal.”
Charlie grinned at their banter, and laughed. The bright sound seemed to break whatever tension was brewing in the air, and Lucifer smiled in spite of himself. They had managed to successfully relax the atmosphere, even if only slightly, and he had managed to reassure his daughter and calm her down, if only a little. He wasn’t a fool to assume that their words alone would be able to make Charlie fully relax. No — that would only happen when they got the go-ahead to begin operations properly, and even then he knew that Charlie would still fret over the countless what-ifs and whatnots. He’d been there, he’d done that, he’d know.
“Speakin’ of, where’re they, anyway?” Angel asked, impatiently checking his hellphone for the time of day. “S’ almost been half an hour already. Aren’t angels supposed to always be early or some shit?”
Lucifer shook his head. “They’re angels, Angel.” He said amusedly. “They arrive on time . Not a moment sooner and not a moment later.”
The spider’s face scrunched into a look of bafflement. “But if they could be early…why won’t they be early?”
The King shrugged. “Angel things? I dunno, man. We can be weird like that, sometimes.”
If he remembered correctly, it was something about…appearing in the moment? Appearing for the moment? Making an impact with the appearance that could only be achieved if they arrived right in the moment? Sheesh – it really had been too long since Lucifer had tried to recall any of those ridiculous heavenly angel policies. He barely remembered anything in their rulebook anymore.
From the bar, Husk let out a short laugh. “I guess that explains why your Majesty arrived on the dot the last time ya visited us.” The bartender mused thoughtfully. “Not a moment sooner and not a moment later, indeed.”
“Hey, that’s different – “
Whatever else Lucifer wanted to say in rebuttal died on his tongue the moment he felt a surcharge of divine energy buzzing through the air that betrayed the arrival of their esteemed guests. Divine power was weird like that — it had a sterile and clinical aftertaste that somehow got into the nook and cranny of every sense and buzzed around people like a really annoying mosquito. It was almost as if they really wanted to reiterate ‘hey, look at us, feel us, we’re all around youuuuuuu’.
Vaggie seemed to have felt it as well, if the way she subtly straightened up was anything to go by. Her hands stilled by her sides, and she shared a look with Lucifer. “They’re coming.”
As if on cue, a golden portal swirled into existence. It was a standard heavenly portal meant for shortening long distance travel – which actually surprised Lucifer. Didn’t important angels get special portals anymore? Where were the choirs? The holy light beam shining down from the nonexistent clouds? The fanfare?
The portal did glow really brightly, however. If he had to guess, it was most likely to compensate for the lack of the aforementioned special portal, and Lucifer saw some of the sinner souls wince at the feeling of divine power brushing against their forms. Truly, he could not help but roll his eyes – it seemed that Gabriel and Michael hadn’t lost their flair for the dramatics after all, despite it being close to ten thousand years since he’d last seen them.
When the light and the portal finally faded after way too much time, Lucifer’s eyes were immediately drawn to the two new arrivals standing in the middle of the reception hall, both clad in the most gaudy and ornate suits Lucifer ever had the displeasure of laying his eyes upon. Without a doubt, despite having not seen them since nearly the start of Creation, Lucifer was staring at Seraphims Michael and Gabriel – the Sword and Messenger of God. There was the ridiculous pompadour that Gabriel had always seemed to fancy before pompadours had even been invented. There was the signature stick-up-the-ass posture that Michael always seemed to carry himself with. And there, in the blue-suited angel’s hand, was the signature sword that he always carried, that had–
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Charlie chirped brightly, opening her arms wide in a display of showmanship. Lucifer let out a breath he hadn’t been holding. He inched subtly behind the shadow of Alastor, any prior bravado at wanting to face his former siblings evaporating on the spot now that he was actually looking at them again. He couldn’t do it.
On his part, the radio demon miraculously seemed to understand what was happening. To Lucifer’s relief, he felt the all-encompassing shadow of Alastor cover his frame just a little more, and he thanked his lucky stars that Alastor was probably feeling particularly nice that day.
The two angels peered around the area like a seasoned connoisseur would eye particularly plain goods.
“Uhm….I’m Charlie! ” His daughter continued, voice getting slightly strained at the lack of response from their guests. Lucifer could see Vaggie’s eye twitch from the clear disinterest of their guests. “Uh…owner of this hotel! And you…must be Michael! And…Gabriel!”
Silence. Lucifer’s own apprehension was being slowly replaced by irritation as the seconds ticked by. Has rudeness become an integral part of Heaven’s society, or something? Even if he discounted Gabriel, when had Michael started to stoop as low as to purposely leave someone hanging in a conversation? He opened his mouth, trying to gather the courage to say something, anything, in his daughter’s stead —
“Ahem…” Charlie took a deep breath, and seemed to steel her resolve to try again. “I’m Charlie Morningstar, owner of this hotel and Princess of Hell, and I welcome our esteemed guests from Heaven to our abode!”
That seemed to catch Gabriel’s interest. “Hold on a moment, did you say Morningstar ?” The seraphim asked, violet eyes suddenly alight with interest that had not been there a moment ago. “As in, ruler of Hell, Morningstar ? He’s here ?!”
Fuck. Whatever vestiges of confidence Lucifer had managed to gather just now disappeared in an instant. He found himself inching backwards as the Messenger’s eyes started roaming the length of the room, no doubt trying to find him.
“Well, yes,” he heard his daughter say, confidence faltering only slightly, “he is, but we are all here to welcome you to our hotel today!”
God, not — not now. Fuck, he really couldn’t do this. What had he been thinking?! He should teleport away, or hide in the safety of his room for the next one week and just not show his face, or something , because there was no way in hell he was ready to look his former siblings in the eye again. Yes, all he had to do was snap his fingers, disappear, and…
Lucifer looked up into two pairs of eyes, one violet and one blue.
Fuck.
Time seemed to stop. No — Lucifer swore that time actually stopped. His mind froze, a crescendoing mantra of Punishment Traitor Arrogance Punishment Traitor Fall repeating itself in a single rhythm against his ears. There was a ringing in the air — had there always been a ringing in the air? In that instant, he was back in Heaven’s councilchamber, with too many eyes staring down at him, with the same pair of blue and violet eyes boring holes into him, and—
“Samael!” Gabriel’s voice seemed to have sounded out from underwater. “Oh my god, there you are! It has been too long , hasn’t it?”
“U-uh—uhm.” Lucifer had no idea how his mind was able to thread together sounds into a coherent syllable, much less words. “Uhm. Y-yeah. Yes. It’s been— it’s been…a while, h-hadn’t..it?” His throat closed in on itself as he spoke, and the effort almost made him wheeze and choke on his own words.
Michael was saying something, this time. Oh, god, what was Michael saying? He couldn’t hear anything beyond the ringing and blood pounding in his ears. Someone was looking at him, he thought. Was it Alastor? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t even breathe , and…and…
— no.
No.
This wouldn’t do. He was Lucifer fucking Morningstar, wasn’t he? King of Hell. Sin of Pride. He couldn’t break down now, not in front of so many pairs of eyes. Not in front of Charlie when he needed to be there for her. He would not give his former siblings the satisfaction of seeing him spiral. He wouldn’t .
Through the pounding in his ears, Lucifer forced himself to shove down the increasingly suffocating panic through nothing but sheer practice and willpower alone, locking them firmly away into the recesses of his mind with a strangled breath.
“I — I’m sorry,” he said, and was mildly surprised when his voice came out much steadier than his previous words, with a note of calm that he definitely did not feel, “can you…repeat that?”
“—have you been, Samael?”
Lucifer took one more shaky breath to calm himself down. He faintly registered his own claws digging through the charred flesh on his arm, and quickly brought them away before anyone could be drawn to the movement.
“First of all.” he said, and summoned as much bravado into his voice as he could muster, ignoring the slight strain that was ever-present in the words and the way his throat hurt to speak. The first step of faking it until someone made it was confidence. It didn't matter how shit he felt — he just needed to hide behind his persona of a ringleader. An actor. “It’s Lucifer now. Get it right, dear brother .” The word was drawn out with as much sarcasm and vitriol as Lucifer could possibly manage, which was…not a lot, surprisingly. The King filed that information away for later.
“And, secondly, how have I been, you ask?” Lucifer grinned, summoning his apple-tipped cane and twirling it with a flourish. “Why; the answer is that I’ve never been better!”
Fake it until he made it. Put on a show.
“What, did you think I was going to wallow down here forever? Become so paralysed by the darkness you cast me in that I’d never recover? Ha! News flash, Michael, Gabriel, life is great down here. Did you know I built an amusement park? That I’ve made Hell’s hierarchies so self-sufficient that they could run on their own? I probably get ten times the amount of vacation you lot have up there, so, yes, I’ve never been better!”
Lucifer pushed past his discomfort to stare his former brothers squarely in the eye defiantly, forcefully holding himself back from flinching when he met their gazes. He’d expected to see a lot of emotions there — condescension, most likely. Perhaps lingering resentment , or betrayal, or even anger at being spoken to in such a rude manner. He’d expected them all.
But what Lucifer saw in their faces was relief. Pure, genuine, unadulterated relief .
In an instant, his bravado slipped away from his frame, and Lucifer’s act faltered at the sight.
Gabriel was the first to speak. “Well, that’s amazing to hear, Samael—”
“— Lucifer.”
“—Lucifer! Man, it’s been so long, we actually have to catch up like, right now! Hey, Cheera, is it? Is there a restaurant or something in here?”
Charlie’s smile twitched on her face. “It’s Charlie ,” she said, and Lucifer could hear the vague irritation in her chipper voice. “And…yes, we do, but we must show you around the vicinity first! This is, after all, a hotel about redemption ! Redeeming souls into Heaven! I’m sure you must be wondering how we’re going to do it, so allow me to give you the full tour right now!”
Gabriel’s smile faltered slightly. “Ah,” the seraphim said, uncertainly, “well, we were actually hoping that we could use that restaurant first? You see, my brother and I really want to catch up with — ”
“Oh, just go for the goddamn tour first.” Lucifer finally snapped, his irritation at Charlie not being taken seriously winning over the fear in his mind at speaking to his former brothers in such a tone. “You will show my daughter the respect that she deserves as my successor and owner of this hotel, or so help me God, I will kick you out of Hell myself, Councilmembers or not.”
His outburst seemed to have somewhat of an opposite effect from what he had been going for. Instead of even a little trace of anger at Lucifer’s words, Gabriel’s smile only widened, and even Michael’s eyes softened at his words.
There it was again! Lucifer couldn’t help the frown that tugged at his lips as he observed the angels’ reactions. What the hell was going on with those two?!
“Still the same, Sa-Lucifer. Still the same.” Gabriel chuckled with a grin. “Alright, alright, we’ll listen to you! Charlie, please, show us your grand plan for redeeming souls in Hell. But,” Here, he cast the King a stern eye, reiterating his earlier words with a finger jab in his direction, “we will be doing that catching up. After that.”
Lucifer felt himself taking a small step back at the gesture. Rationally, he knew that his former sibling probably hadn’t meant anything ill-natured by it, but the instincts that had been hard-wired into his body didn’t seem to care, anyway.
Charlie shot Lucifer a grateful look, before bounding over to where the two of them were. “Of course!” She chirped, the excitement back in her voice now that her guests were actually paying attention to her words. “Thank you. I’ll be guiding you around with my co-partner Vaggie! So, first, if we turn left from the reception hall, we have the…”
His daughter’s voice faded away as she thankfully led Michael and Gabriel out of his sight. The moment Lucifer lost sight of their ridiculous suits, he let out a harsh breath, every shred of faux confidence he had built up in the last few minutes crumbling to the ground. He slumped tiredly into a nearby couch and buried his face into his hands.
“Um.” Angel asked, from somewhere nearby, speaking up for the first time since their guests’ arrival. “Yer Majesty? Ya alright there? Ya looked like ya was gonna pass out, just now.”
“‘M fine.” he replied, voice muffled by his hands.
“Yeah, because that’s totally how someone who is fine sounds like.” Husk grumbled. “Ya don’t haf’ta pretend fer us, Majesty. Looked two seconds away from spirallin’, back there. The save was scary good — coulda fooled me if I hadn’t been payin’ more attention.”
“I just don’t get it ,” Lucifer groaned into his hands, “they’re supposed to hate me! Why are they acting so nice?!”
It wasn’t fair. How could they act so genial and chipper? As if the last time they’d seen each other they hadn’t quite literally thrown him out of Heaven? Lucifer could barely speak to them without wanting to throw up from the way his chest constricted at the memories they caused, and they wanted to have tea with him?
The King peeked through his fingers just in time to see Husk nod sagely. “Mhm.” The bartender mused, as if it answered all of his problems. “Like I said. Sibling issues.”
“I never knew I could meet someone more annoying than your Majesty!” Alastor piped in, shaking his head ruefully with a sigh. “Congratulations, friend, you are no longer the most annoying individual I’ve had the pleasure of meeting!”
“If ya need us t’scare em off for ya, jus’ say the word,” Angel grinned, cracking his knuckles. “My sex dungeon is always ready to be used for its intended purpose.”
Lucifer almost choked on his own breath, scrambling to push himself up from his current position. “NO!” He almost yelped, eyes bugging out of his head at how bad of an idea that was. “No. Nonononono, Angel, you do not want to show the Virtue of Temperance a sex dungeon , are you out of your mind?! Do you want to be smited?!”
He imagined Michael stumbling upon even one of Angel’s various… toys, and shuddered. “Oh, God, please tell me you’ve packed up everything before they arrived.”
The spider scoffed and waved a lazy hand. “Husk made sure I did. Don’cha worry yer pretty little head ‘bout it, Short King.”
Lucifer sighed in relief and flopped back onto his couch. He covered an arm over his eyes tiredly, feeling the stress of the entire morning catch up to him in one breath. A stress that had been the result of slightly over two hours of hyping himself up for seeing his former siblings again after aeons of not seeing them, and after actually interacting with them for a few minutes.
Oh, God. It had only been twenty minutes since Gabriel and Michael had stepped foot into their hotel, hadn’t it? Lucifer was going to have to put up with them for seven whole days. The mere thought of the task felt insurmountably impossible , and Lucifer genuinely did not know if he was going to be strong enough for the job.
“This is gonna be fucking long week, isn’t it?” The fallen angel muttered sullenly, voice muffled by the arm over his face.
“Yep.” Three voices replied simultaneously, accompanied by the resigned buzz of a radio filter. Lucifer groaned into his arms in equal parts of despair and resignation.
It was going to be a hell of a week.