𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 ! 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡.

2. Crash Landing

For such a powerful man, Lucifer sure did a whole lot of nothing in his free time. He's the King of Hell, sure, but that meant virtually nothing to him. He couldn't care less about ruling over his people. In fact, he held great distaste over them and their destruction of his realm.

But, with that said, he wasn't so cruel as to be a dictator over them, in contrast to what believers may think. So, he leaves them be. He allows them to have free will to reign on their own. Which is nice, in a way. He has the power, the looks, and the history. People fear him, bending to his will as he pleases; without him so much having to lift a finger.

On the other hand, though, it leaves his schedule empty and him constantly stultified.

The devilish man sighed. Pouting his rosy cheeks, he sat on his throne, messing about with one of his many creations.

He held the toy gingerly by its foot. It quacked and shuffled, a tune coming from the music box inside of its chest. A pitiful laugh echoed off the walls. He ran a pale hand through his hair. "Hah...just what am I doing?"

Yes, Lucifer has power. More than anyone could ever comprehend. But there are times where he misses the days where he was but an Angel.

The toy squeaked as it bounced off the wall, having been thrown.

He pranced over to one of the many paintings that hang upon his castle interior. He traced the succubus's painted face carefully, admiring the features that had been so perfectly captured onto the canvas. It was his former wife's portrait, Lilith. Her eyes, almost as if ablaze, left him in a trance. The painting was beautiful; yet, at the same time, did no justice to her true self.

His heart ached.

Spinning upon his heel, he let his feet take him blindly. He cleared his mind of her face. Just the thought of her left a hollowed out feeling in his chest, like someone had ripped out his non-existent heart and hid it from him. It was as if the bloody organ belonged to his wife, and stuck by her side when she left...leaving behind an empty shell.

He shooed his depressing thoughts away. And instead, he found himself dreaming about his prior days in Heaven. Where he would get into mischief with his fellow Angels, whom had followed him (albeit more hesitantly). He'd always get caught, of course, but never into serious trouble. Not when he was caught by (Y/N)—She had always found his impishness rather amusing.

He froze in his tracks.
...Well, that's certainly not someone he's thought of in an awhile.
The thought of his superior left him, if anything, even more bitter than before.

It's not that he had any bad memories with the Seraph—oh, no. But instead he grew sour about how the good memories had to come to an end so suddenly. He never got to say goodbye. And he won't ever get to, not until the end of eternity. Which is, well...forever. It would take a miracle to ever get to see her again.

He hopes she's doing well.

——

She is, in fact, not doing well.

(Y/N) had never been set on fire before, nor did she have human flesh. But she imagined this was what it felt like to be burned alive. Having so much of her heavenly power drained from her so suddenly left her feeling like death itself.

She was painfully aware that two of her three pairs of wings were singed beyond repair, falling apart as she descended rapidly from the Silver City. She drifted in and out of consciousness, barely able to make out the scenery around her as she was too focused on the immense pain she found herself drowning in.

It certainly didn't help that her form erratically switching from Seraphim to human.

'O'Lord above, heed my prayers. Please have mercy upon my tarnished being.' She neared the ground at swift speeds. As quickly as her back hit the stone ground, her vision faded once more to black.

——

BOOM!

The hotel rattled with an aggressive BANG, causing objects to fly off their shelves in every direction. The sudden judder of the tall building had the guests, save for Alastor, shaken.

Charlie gasped as she sat up straight from where she had dropped, "Is everyone alright?!" She fretted, picking up Vaggie from beside her fallen form. The grey-skinned woman held her head in her hands, a mind-splitting headache forming. Her single iris shook alarmingly. 'What the...?'

Angel Dust groaned. "Ugh— the fuck was that? Felt like a fuckin' nuke exploded." Everyone glanced at Sir Pentious. He gasped offendedly. "What? I told you all, I don't particcccipate in ssuch tomfoolery anymore!" He huffed, crossing his arms and slithering away from the group.

Completely unfazed from the event, the Radio Demon continued to sip his tea, amused. Husk rolled his eyes and cursed. "Fuck. The good tequila got smashed from the damn earthquake."

Alastor merely grinned wider. "Oh, I don't think that was an earthquake, dear friend."

Vaggie bit her lip anxiously. Charlie, being ever so observant, noticed this right away. She cupped her lover's face. "Hey, are you okay?" She frowned at the hesitance she was met with in return. Vaggie put on a small smile, "...yeah. I'm just gonna check outside to make sure everything's good real quick." She shuffled away from her girlfriend's grasp hurriedly.

As soon as she made it outside of the hotel's doors, Vaggie fell to her knees. She grabbed at the fabric of her shirt where her heart is. She panted, suffocated by the feeling of fear that overcame her. "How..." She swallowed her words. She sat on her knees, one of her hands cradling her missing eye. 'How is it that I sense such great amounts of Heavenly power?' A sweat broke out on her forehead. 'This...it's been years since I've felt a holy presence this strong. Last time I did, it was with her.'

Her weapon began to feel much heavier than it did before.

Meanwhile, Alastor sat inside the hotel at the bar. He swirled a spoon around in his cup of tea. Unbeknownst to the rest, his neutral smile became grim—sadistic, even. His eyes glowed a subtle red, his reflection looking back up at him from the mug.

'Oh, how interesting things have become.' A pleasured chill ran up his spine. He sipped at his drink.

'How interesting indeed.'

——

Lucifer stood stared ahead, eyes wide with terror and mouth agape. Rubble continued to fall down the large crater, hitting the unconscious figure that lay amongst the debris.

The woman rolled on her side, twitching uncomfortably as thousands of eyes continued to disappear and reappear all over her body. Her skin, once a bright light, transformed to a dull (S/C). Her beauty was blinding—something ethereal, inconceivable. Just how could such a pure being be here in Hell?

'She shouldn't be...' Lucifer almost trembled. He approached her near-lifeless body with a profound gentleness. 'What...how is she here?'

He gasped upon seeing her face clearly for the first time in thousands of millennia. His eyes watered. 'It can't be. How could Heaven stoop so low?'

"(Y/N)... what happened to you?"