Hi! It's been a while since I updated a chapter and so far, this one is quite the long one so I decided to split it into two. The second one would take a while though (inserting this quick little warning in advance) since I really wanna make the "fight" something to remember before moving to the enemies to friends part <3
Hope everyone enjoys~! Thank you for the likes, comments and thoughts are more than appreciated, and thank you for the reposts!
It has been a few days since Velvette posted #FashionDon’t post, and the press has not relented.
Outside ScreamCouture’s glass-front studio, chaos swells with reporters shouting questions, sinners waving returned garments, demons screaming for refunds. Others defend Velvette just as loudly, accusing [Y/N] of arrogance for refusing a collaboration with the Queen Vee.
Inside her office, [Y/N] stands before the towering windows, hands clasped behind her back, watching her brand teeter on the edge of the spectacle.
A sharp knock disturbs her thoughts as Lia rushes inside, breathless and tablet clutched tight.
“Miss! Returns have tripled in the last hour. Some of the staff are being red-tagged online just for working here. A few are considering resigning. They’re worried about retaliation and their families being targeted.”
[Y/N]’s jaw tightens.
“What do we do?” Lia presses.
“Prioritize security,” [Y/N] says immediately, calm and controlled. “Double protection for all employees. Make sure no one loses their safety over Velvette’s tantrum. Good staff are rare in Hell.”
She turns from the window and strides for the door.
“And then we fix this.”
Lia nods and follows quickly, tapping commands on her tablet. She pauses when she notices an envelope tucked into its case.
“Oh miss, this arrived for you.” Lia hands her an elegant envelope sealed in blue-green wax.
[Y/N] takes it mid-step, breaking the seal and reading its contents.
Her expression shifts from tension to contemplation into something sharper.
A smile curves slowly across her face.
“Miss?” Lia asks carefully.
“Lia,” [Y/N] replies, folding the letter and tucking it into her coat. “Start doing your research.”
“On who?” Lia asks.
“On every employee Velvette has discarded.”
[Y/N] moves, her strides more purposeful, like a general walking to the warzone’s frontlines. Lia moves quickly, following [Y/N]’s strides.
They reach [Y/N]’s design studio and she flips through her Fashion week sketches at her drafting table. Frustration simmers beneath her composure as she checks each design.
“Miss,” Lia insists, “designs won’t fix a riot. We need crowd control or your brand will collapse.”
“Tsk… no, no. This isn’t right…” [Y/N] murmurs, scanning the room.
“Miss!”
She suddenly looks up, looking at Lia before her gaze trails down to the pile of cloth scraps beside her feet.
“Did someone forget that the cloth scraps disposal is scheduled for tomorrow?”
Lia blinks, “Miss, this isn’t the time to think about cloth scraps disposal!”
“Fashion… don’t” [Y/N] whispers.
“What?”
“That’s it.”
[Y/N] takes her phone out, scrolling through the flood of posts rooting from Velvette’s hashtag. Her designs plastered with thumbs down icons, barf emojis and mockery.
Then she laughs.
“Lia, gather every scrap rejected in all of our design studios. And contact the outsourcing department. I want every model and designer fired by the Vees. Prioritize them if they worked under Velvette.”
Lia hesitates. “You’re recruiting… rejects?”
“Yes.”
“And the scraps?”
[Y/N] gather a pile of discarded fabric, already moving toward the meeting room.
“Wait and see. Just inform the seamstresses to meet us in the meeting room, I’ll explain everything there.”
-
Tension and anxiety fills the air of [Y/N]’s meeting room as the seamstresses murmurs between each other.
“Maybe we should resign—”
“Before this gets worse—”
“I knew I shouldn’t have worked for some up-and-coming—”
When [Y/N] and Lia enter, silence falls in the room.
She drops the pile of fabric scraps onto the table.
“Alright,” she begins evenly, “it has been a chaotic few days since Velvette lit the match and right now we’re close to burning into flames.”
“More like we’re already ashes,” someone mutters.
Lia shoots them a glare, causing them to quiet down and shrink into their chair.
[Y/N] ignores the slight and continues, “But are not burned. We are trending.”
Confused looks and murmurs fill the room.
“Trending for the wrong things! How could you look so relaxed when we’re at risk! Our families—”
Lia takes a step towards the seamstress who starts speaking up. [Y/N] lifts a hand, stopping her. “No need, Lia.”
[Y/N] looks at her staff with a smile.
“I know the harm my actions have brought due to Velvette’s tantrum. Which is why we’re fighting back.”
More murmurs erupt from the confused staff.
“With scraps?” A seamstress scoffs. “What are we opening, a recycling boutique?”
Another speaks up, “And even if we do manage to attempt fighting back, she has Vox behind her.”
Nods of agreement and more murmurs flow from each employee.
“That’s true,” [Y/N] agrees, “We don’t control the media.”
She lifts a scrap of fabric. “But we don’t need to.”
She lets the fabric fall back to the table before she pushes the small pile of fabric toppling it over the surface, the scattered pieces forming unlikely patterns.
“What we need… is a big splash to put the fire out.”
Silence sharpens.
“Okay, but you still haven’t told us how.”
“Why, by fighting the way designers do of course. These,” She gestures to the spilled fabric. “Are fashion don't’s.”
Understanding dawns slowly.
Lia gasps first. “Miss… that is brilliant.”
[Y/N] turns to her with a bright grin, “Isn't it? Little Miss Queen Vee gave us our very own trending hashtag, why not use it?”
The employees exchange looks, fear turning to excitement.
“Now, we only have a few days before Fashion Week’s big finale,” [Y/N] continues. ”This will require overtime, precision, and nerve.”
She smirks.
“So let’s make the ugliest fabrics in Hell unforgettable.”
The room erupts with cheers.
-
Across town, in Vee tower, Velvette lounges upside-down across her chaise, boots kicking in the air as her phone projects a vertical stream of glowing comments above her face.
Memes, edits and cancel threads with #ScreamCoutureIsOver and #FashionDon’t fill her screen.
She grins. “Ugh, I love engagement.”
The studio buzzes - assistants scrambling, mannequins rotating, fabric levitating mid-stitch.
A camera on the far wall flickers before Vox phases through in a cascade of static, reforming in one of her chairs like he owns it.
He scans the room with an amused tilt of his screen.
“Well this is manic. Did someone die, or are we pretending to be productive?”
Velvette doesn’t look up. “She did.”
She flicks her wrist and a holographic flood of ScreamCouture backlash fills the air. Vox looks at the thumbnails, outrage videos, dramatic overreactions and rumors fill the space. Beside the main hologram are analytics showing a spike in engagements, media from one platform bleeding to another, and revenue projections.
“Ohhh, “ he hums, pleased. “You weaponized the algorithm.”
Velvette finally flips upright, smug. “Please, babe. I am the algorithm.”
He gives a short synthetic chuckle. “You nudged it. I provided the platform. Teamwork.”
She narrows her eyes slightly. “Regardless of your network, I could have ruined her."
“Perhaps,” Vox leans back, legs crossing elegantly. “But twelve percent of that spike came from my network’s boost.”
A pause.
Velvette’s smile turns tight.
“Aw, so it seems to me that you were watching.”
“I’m always watching.” His tone is light. Not a joke.
A flick of his wrist overlays new footage over Velvette’s own. Surveillance clips from around the district.
Velvette squints at the clips, turning to Vox. “What is this?”
“You’re celebrating too early. From what I’ve seen, she hasn’t burned down completely. She’s recruiting.”
Clips flash, showing former VoxTek employees from Velvette’s department entering ScreamCouture’s studio.
Velvette scoffs, an easy smirk forming on her face, “So she’s collecting trash?”
“Careful,” Vox replies lightly, “Another man’s trash is another man’s treasure as they say. Besides, underdog narratives are very profitable.”
Velvette rolls her eyes at his words, waving a dismissive hand. “Trash is still trash, let her collect mine, it won't make a difference.”
“If you’re so confident, then fine.” Vox shrugs and flicks his wrist, the holograms vanishing.
“Just remember,” he says smoothly, “When you light a match, I control if the smoke blows.”
Her grin drops half an inch.
“Are you implying something, V?”
“I’m stating a fact.” He stands, static crawling faintly along his shoulder.
“Chaos is profitable. Uncontrolled chaos is… inconvenient.”
Velvette hops off her chaise and steps closer, unbothered on the surface.
“She said no to me,” Velvette replies simply. “People who say no to the Queen Vee don’t trend. They crash and burn.”
Vox studies her, then smiles.
“That’s my girl.”
He glitches toward the exit screen, pausing halfway through.
“Oh, and Vel?”
She rolls her eyes. “What?”
“Make sure your finale deserves the traffic. Remember, our brand is perfection.” Static flickers on the far camera inside the studio before Vox phases out.
Velvette stares at the camera for a long moment before flipping it off, knowing Vox can see her. She turns sharply to her staff.
“Alright all of you! If I don’t see god-tier silhouettes in thirty minutes, I’m replacing you with interns!”
The room explodes back into motion, frantic sewing resuming.
For a flicker of a second, her smile no longer relaxed, but competitive.
Currently writing Chapter 6 of #2ndPlace and so far it's kind of long, so I'm splitting it into 2 parts. Hopefully I finish them and then some more chapters so I can get back to updating :>
I have come back from the depths! XD Man did this update take a longer time.
Did this fic get infected with my musical inserts moment? Yes. Did I have to change the lyrics to fit the story? Absolutely.
If y'all haven't watched Diana The Musical yet, I recommend it [I recommend playing the song while reading when they start singing too]. The music slaps!
The next day, [Y/N] is jolted awake by the relentless ringing of her phone.
She squints at it, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and answers.
“Hello-“
“MISS! WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
[Y/N] winces, pulling the phone away from her ear. “Wow, good morning to you too, Lia.”
“You’re trending!” Lia exclaims.
[Y/N] sits up on her bed, checking the time. “Sweetie, it’s seven in the morning. I don’t even start work until ten. Why are you yelling at me before coffee exists?”
“Because you are trending in the bad way, miss!” Lia fires back.
“What did you do to Miss Velvette last night?!”
Calmly, [Y/N] stands from her bed and walks to her closet, picking out an outfit for the day. “It can’t be that bad. We survived the chaos when we launched-“
“This isn’t the same!” Lia cuts her off.
“Sorry, but Miss Velvette exposes you as someone ‘in chains’. She’s telling everyone you only got to where you are by selling your soul to an overlord.”
Frantic movement can be heard in the background as Lia guides the employees in handling the flood of hate comments in ScreamCouture’s official media page.
“Miss, we are getting obliterated. Orders are being cancelled, returns are flooding in, and I swear if your apartment isn’t already doxxed, it will be in-“
[Y/n] freezes, Lia’s voice blending in the background.
Velvette’s smile.
Velvette’s anger.
Velvette’s threat.
“Miss? Miss? Are you still there?”
“… Alright,” she says after a moment. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do as much damage control as possible.”
“Already on it, miss. Please be safe.”
After a quick shower, [Y/N] dresses inconspicuously and steps out of her apartment. Just as Lia warns, her address has already been leaked.
Typical.
Peering down from the stairwell, she spots a dense crowd of paparazzi swarming the front of the complex. Security struggles to hold them back as the vultures of Hell’s entertainment industry shove, shout, and search for any way inside.
She ducks out of sight just in time, slipping away unnoticed. Using the emergency ladders, she bypasses most of the crowd and disappears into the alleys.
Unfortunately, even those aren’t safe.
A small-time newspaper writer spots her, “Excuse me, you’re that up and coming designer, ain’t ya? How’s about a quick snap there, luv?”
The flash of a camera’s bulb attracts the rest of the paparazzi into the alley. [Y/N] quickly dashes.
Suddenly, music begins to play a mocking harmony.
“Snap, click, snap, click, give a smile. The press will enjoy you, at least for a while.”
More cameras flash.
“Snap, click, snap, click, burning star. Damn, I see why you caught Velvette’s eye!”
[Y/N] forces a tight smile, “Uh... okay?” she mutters before bolting down another path to escape.
They follow.
“Snap, click, snap, click, just one peek. You're the hottest one she’s posted all week!”
[Y/N] escapes to another alley only to be bombarded by more paparazzi. It seems endless.
“Snap, click, snap, click, have a blast. Lucifer knows how long you will last! Snap, click!”
“Thank you, that’s enough now.”
However, her words only seem to spur in more paparazzi as more cameras follow her. Each turn brings more cameras coming from unexpected places. Inside trash cans, from a random apartment’s window, from the sewer gates.
And the hunt only grows louder, gleeful and more vicious.
“Ain't nothin' like the hunt, ain't nothin' like the thrill
Find the right bird, then go in for the kill!”
[Y/N] tries losing them in the busy streets, past all the fire and daily chaos of Hell’s streets but more only pop up from more places. TVs flash with new articles and now new added posts from Velvette from the night.
“Flies don’t go for honey, they head for what stank
Snatch a few pics, it's money in the bank!
Honеy, we have you to thank!”
Headlines seem to write themselves in the air around her as she runs, each allegation becoming more and more far-fetched. As she passes each street TVs and billboards update in real time.
“She said no to Velvette's offer.” A new post from Velvette.
“She really ain’t that bright.” A new headline.
“I hear she’s still a virgin.” A new rumor.
The members of the paparazzi pause on the last one, looking between each other, “You sure you got that right? Really is that right?”
“Please leave me alone!” She snaps, scrambling up a ladder and hauling herself onto a rooftop, but even then she can’t escape as VoxTek drones join the “hunt.”
“Snap, click, snap, click, ain't this rich? The trending up-and-coming is also a bitch!”
Quickly, another article is published with a photo of [Y/N] climbing up the ladder.
“Come on, come on, just one go.
Then we'll go away for an hour or so.
Hey, why can't you see that we're your friends?”
Baby, our love is real!”
VoxTek drones whir into the air, red lights blinking as they circle her like predators. Cameras recording her every move, every step, every word.
“We know that your aim is to be fuckin' famous.
Well, honey, we are part of the deal!
Snap, click, snap, click, earn your pay.”
The chorus swells, insisting this is how fame works as the paparazzi corner her on the roof.
“All you gotta do is all that we say!
Front page, front page, you're the lead
Another hundred pictures is all that we need!”
[Y/N] jumps down, landing on a lower level roof and quickly climbs down.
She tears through the streets, edging into the Vees’ territory, her face stares back at her. A different billboard, a different photo, a different allegation. If she thought her launch put her face everywhere, then this is worse.
“We provide a public service
We do it every day
And if you think we're vultures
We dare you to look away!”
A wall of paparazzi backs her to a wall. Her only saving grace is a running car passing by. The wall is broken as the reporters dodge to save themselves. [Y/N] takes advantage of the distraction and slips away.
“Snap, click, snap, click!
Snap, click, snap, click!
Snap, click, snap, click!
Snap, click!”
By the time finally [Y/N] manages to get to her studio, she is breathless.
The doors slam shut behind her as employees rush to barricade them with whatever they can find.
“Miss! You’re finally here.” Lia pulls her into a tight hug.
[Y/N] exhales shakily and pats her head, scanning the studio. Every employee looks tense, eyes glued to screens. “They really are relentless, aren’t they?”
Lia nods, already pulling away. “Yes—but that’s not the worst part. Velvette just posted something new.”
She turns her phone around.
It’s a photo from the night before from Velvette’s angle. [Y/N] is in mid-conversation with the waiter, a candid shot.
I dunno what's going on but I've been consumed by musicals lately. This fic is inspired by the song 'In a Crowd of Thousands' from the musical Anastasia.
Honestly planned this to be released earlier, buuuuuut things happened and I decided to release it today. Happy Holidays everyone~!
Enjoy~!
For more fics check out my TOC.
In front of Heaven’s council stood an angel donned in pale blue robes. Her wings are pure and as white as the clouds that surround the ethereal land.
“You have taken this far enough [Y/N].” The elder says, their voice ringing through the chamber. “Stop trying to defend Lucifer’s mistake or you shall fall.”
You lifted your gaze to them, your stance straight and brave, not backing down. “If defending what I think is right will cause me to fall,” You said evenly, “Then I’d rather follow him down that pit.”
The council bursted into whispers, only to be silenced by the elder.
“Then so it shall be.”
-
Darkness followed.
When your eyes open again, the sky burned red. Screams tore through the air, layered with pain and fear. Angels descended with spears in their hands, raining death upon the people of Hell.
You forced yourself upright, wincing as your head throbbed and every inch of your body protested.
Ignoring the pain, you pushed forward, and searched desperately for a place to take shelter in.
‘Where do I go from here?’
-
Years passed after that day.
You got used to Hell’s system, you adapted to the daily dose of violence, chaos and depravity. It was hard at first to say the least, especially as you processed the fact that your angelic features changed to demonic ones.
Gone were your pure white wings now replaced with black feathers. Your skin once tanned turned deathly pale. Your halo turned to ewe-like horns and your eyes changed from the white sclera with baby blue irises to red and black respectively.
Some mornings, you woke up in a panic and fell from your bed, and stared at unfamiliar walls before memory crashed back in.
You were casted out.
Many tears had fallen from your eyes from missing your home, but no matter how much it hurt, you never once regretted fighting for what you believed in.
-
After the seventh year of the exterminations, however, there came a change that you did not account for.
The Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar opened a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.
Curiosity drew you there, guided by a poorly made television advertisement that seemed to mock rather than to encourage sinners to come.
Once there, you are greeted by a spear to your face by a white haired, gray skinned moth-like girl.
“Vaggie!” Charlie yelps, running to the girl, carefully directing the spear’s sharp point away from you.
After she lowers the weapon, she turns to you with an apologetic smile, “Sorry! Sorry! That’s Vaggie, she’s a bit… protective.”
You shake your head, shaking the attack off.
“It’s fine. I’m [Y/N], nice to meet you.”
“I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you too. What brings you here?” Before you could answer, Charlie gasps. “Are you here to be redeemed?”
Before you could answer, again, she immediately turned to Vaggie, her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she exclaimed, “Vaggie, isn’t this great?! We have not one but two guests already!”
Vaggie awkwardly smiles and tries to calm her down, “Wait a minute babe, she hasn’t even said yes or said why she is here yet.”
Charlie quickly deflates at her girlfriend’s words. “Are you here to be redeemed?” She turned to you with a look as if she will break if you said otherwise.
“Well, I don’t know if I can be redeemed, but I am curious if it’s possible.” You reply which quickly reignites Charlie’s spark.
She pulls you inside and quickly introduces you to everyone inside and a tour of the hotel.
To say the least, the hotel looked… dilapidated, and the hotel staff and Angel Dust were… eclectic, to put it kindly.
Still, over time, you come to appreciate each of them, including Sir Pentious who joined the hotel and stayed after Charlie’s intervention when the hotel found out he was acting as a spy for the Vees.
Husk turned out to be a surprisingly good listener, although sarcastic most of the time.
Angel Dust noticeably tones his hypersensual approaches towards you.
Niffty, you had found, has quite an endearing side beneath her manic energy.
Vaggie grows less guarded, watching you with suspicion less often.
Alastor was… Alastor.
Out of everyone, Charlie was the easiest to get along with. You often join her during her brainstorming sessions, listening with Vaggie as she rambles through ideas, crosses them out and groans in frustration.
-
One day, Charlie is pacing in the lobby in front of her board of ideas. You, along with the rest of the hotel staff watch her as she repeatedly arranges and rearranges tacks of papers listing out activities and their outcomes.
“Why? Why isn’t it working? I’ve tried rust exercises, group therapy, talent nights—everything!” she mutters. “Why hasn’t anyone been redeemed yet?”
Vaggie sighs, “Charlie… maybe you should call your dad.”
Charlie stiffens. “I don’t need to call him.”
Husk snorts. “Why, you got daddy issues?”
You shake your head as Charlie groans, covering her face with her hands.
“…Fine,” she mutters at last. “I’ll call him.”
The phone rings and Charlie starts to talk, “Hey dad, I was wondering if you could help me get a meeting with Heaven?”
Least to say, it was an awkward view to see Charlie trying to convince her father to at least come to see what she is doing. When the call ends, Charlie looks at the group.
“Alright guys, my dad will be here in an hour.”
The hotel then erupts into chaos. Cookies are baked, floors scrubbed, decorations hastily thrown up as everyone scrambles to make the place look presentable.
-
An hour later, Lucifer Morningstar arrives.
-
When Lucifer finally steps inside, the tension is immediate.
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His movements are stiff, uncertain, as Charlie eagerly shows him around the hotel and introduces the guests.
You watch quietly from the sidelines, a strange weight settling in your chest.
Because you recognize him.
And for the first time since your fall, Heaven feels uncomfortably close.
-
Charlie insisted you join her, Vaggie, and Alastor for the tour, citing you as one of her greatest helpers. Alastor excused himself when Husk called him away, leaving the four of you.
Charlie and Vaggie spoke enthusiastically about Angel Dust’s progress, but Lucifer seemed distracted.
“So dad?” Charlie asked. “What do you think?”
“About…?” Lucifer blinked. “About what?”
“Ugh, the hotel, dad.” she said flatly.
“Oh! Oh, right, the hotel… yes, it’s… it’s really a whole lot better now isn’t it?”
You watched quietly as Charlie tried again and again to make him understand her vision, only for him to miss it entirely.
In the end, however, Lucifer agreed to help arrange a meeting with Heaven. You assumed that that would be the last time you saw him, but as he turned to leave, you spoke up.
“Excuse me, Your Highness.”
He paused. “Uh… yes?”
“If I may be so bold… I think it would help your daughter if… you visited more often. She truly is a wonderful lady with great ideas. And I think you should give them a chance.”
Lucifer pauses, studying you for a moment before nodding.
“Alright.”
-
You didn’t expect anything to come from that conversation.
But a few days later, Lucifer returned. And again. And again.
Slowly, you began to talk.
-
It was after the last extermination where Adam was killed and Lucifer decided to stay at the hotel that you got even closer.
You bonded while helping Charlie pursue her dream, your interactions shifting from cooperation to casual conversations about anything and everything. Eventually, you spoke about your pasts, though you kept the truth of yours carefully veiled, offering only vague fragments.
-
One day, while Lucifer was showing you one of the newest ducks he had created, you asked quietly, “Do you miss it?”
Lucifer paused from his spiel, “Miss what?”
“Miss Heaven.” You looked at him from your spot on his comfortable sofa.
Lucifer fell silent, a wistful look settling into his eyes. “... sometimes.”
“Do you have friends back there?” You asked, sitting up.
“F-friends?” He let out a short, nervous laugh. “N-no… not really.”
His smile faltered, “I was always avoided either because of my rank or because I was known as a troublemaker.”
“Really?” you pressed gently. “Come now, surely there is at least one friend?”
Lucifer’s smile turned sad, “Well... There is this one angel I knew, although I’m not sure if I can consider us as friends. After all, we barely interacted.”
You perked up more with interest. “Who was she?”
‘Could it be…?’ You thought.
Lucifer glanced toward the bright light that streamed in through one of the tall windows, his expression softened.
“It was quite funny, actually. We met in the most unconventional way, and we only grew closer after that. But..” He paused, his expression grew sad.
“After I fell, I never saw her again.” A quiet sigh left him.
“Sometimes I wonder if she still remembers me.” He smiled faintly.
“She probably resents me, like the rest of Heaven.”
Your expression shifted into something unreadable, but you quickly shook it off before he could notice.
“Can you tell me how you met?” You asked.
Lucifer huffed softly, shaking his head, “You really are a curious one, huh? Fine. We met at a parade.”
‘Wait… does he…?’ You stopped yourself from reacting to his words and leaned back on the sofa.
“Funny,” You said quietly. “That’s how I met my first friend, too. Though, like you, I lost him due to… things I don’t want to remember.”
Now it was Lucifer’s turn to be intrigued.
“Huh, what a coincidence.”
He leaned closer, studying you.
“I’ve been talking about myself this whole time, why do you tell me about yourself this time?” His eyes narrowed playfully.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you're holding something out when you talk about yourself. Come on, spill.”
You shrugged, and stood. “Fine.”
Slowly, you began to sing, your voice carried the weight of memory, echoing with the remnants of Heaven.
“It was spring, the clock struck ten. I still think of that day now and then.”
You started to walk to a small group of carvings on one of his shelves. One of them was of a float with a duck surrounded by balloons.
“A parade and a boy. And a crowd of thousands.”
Your fingers brushed the carving gently before magic stirred beneath your touch. The figure lifted into the air, glowing softly as it drifted between you and Lucifer.
“He stood straight, his wings gleamed. One of eight, he looked proud and serene.”
A quiet smile crossed your face.
“The crowd cheered, while I stared… In that crowd of thousands.”
The figures began to move faster and you started to run after them. “Then I started to run, And to call out his name as the crowd on the road went wild.”
You reached up for the figure, your hands closed on the carving of the duck float. “I reached out with my hand and looked up. And then he smiled.”
You released the figure, watching it drift away to the light from the tall window, “The parade travelled on. With the sun in my eyes he was gone.”
Your voice steadied, resolve burning behind your gaze as you turned back to Lucifer.
“But if I’m sent back then. In that crowd of thousands. I'd find him again.”
Lucifer stared at you, confusion flickered across his face.
“That’s… Impossible.” he whispered.
“Why?” You asked, your expression now carefully unreadable.
“The story you’re telling… it’s similar to mine.”
“Oh yeah?” You replied lightly, though his words confirmed the hunch you’d been trying to bury.
“Tell me yours then.”
‘He remembers… but he doesn’t remember me.’
Lucifer turned towards the floating carvings and overrode your magic. “A parade…”
“A parade,” You echoed.
“Passing by…”
“Passing by.”
“It was hot. Not a cloud in the sky,” his smile grew as memory took hold. “Then a girl caught my eye.”
“In a crowd of thousands..” You sang together.
He took a doll from the shelf and twirled it in the air. “She was small, like a doll,” He chuckles.
Guard carvings rose and circled the figure. “There were guards. But she didn’t care at all.”
The doll flew in between the guard carvings.
“Yes, she made me enthralled… In that crowd of thousands.”
“Then she called out my name,” He continued, voice softening, “and she started to fly through the sun and heat and the crowd.”
He cradled the doll in his hands as if it were something fragile and precious. “And I tried not to smile but I smiled.”
“And then,” He breathed, “She bowed.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “I did do that.”
Lucifer froze. The carvings clattered to the ground.
“You…”
He stared at you. Really stared at you, and only then did something clicked.
“I remember.”
You met his gaze as the truth settled between you, heavy and undeniable.
“The parade travelled on
With the sun in my eyes you were gone
But I knew even then
In a crowd of thousands
I'd find you again”
“Your Highness.” You said as you bowed.
“It was you…” Lucifer whispered in disbelief, his voice trembled.
You slowly straightened. “Yes.”
“What happened to you?” Lucifer asked as he looked you over, his memory collided with reality.
“A lot.” You admitted sheepishly.
“You aren’t angry I lied to you all this time? That I kept the truth from you all this time?”
“Angry?!” His voice rose. “At you?” He shook his head sharply. “Maybe a little but… How could Heaven do this to you?!”
You hesitated. “That’s… a long story. Maybe we should sit down.”
“Yes. Yeah.” He took your hands, grip firm and urgent.
“You’re telling me everything. We’re not going anywhere until you do.”
Inspired by @writing-fanics HMO: I'm Not That Girl | Lucifer x Reader.
Enjoy the angst everyone~!
For more fics, check out my TOC
Painter!ReaderXLucifer | TW: Mentions of Suicide.
You are a sinner who joined the hotel in hopes to take a crack at redemption after the battle with Adam and the exorcists.
The hotel was lively that day, buzzing with paparazzi clawing their way toward the latest scoop from Charlie about the Hazbin Hotel.
Once checked in, you stumbled upon a man in a pink, fluffy robe with his hair messily set in curlers.
You couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped you, “Hello there. I’m (Y/N). You must be a fellow guest here. How are you doing?”
Lucifer, completely unprepared for anyone to approach him this morning, stumbled over his words before finally managing to slip into that familiar Morningstar charm.
-
Some time has passed since that moment, and you and Lucifer have grown steadily closer. Sharing a bond rooting from the desire to support Charlie’s dream and your mutual passion for art.
Between all the chaos of the hotel’s activities, sharing circles and the continuous hubbub of reporters there are your shared art sessions.
Lucifer crafts yet another duck to add to his evergrowing collection, and you quietly work away at your paintings.
During these slow and easy moments, the two of you talk about anything and everything. You share pieces of your past, and he shares pieces of his. He speaks animatedly about his passions and dreams, and eventually, you both open up about your lows.
You both share comfort and tears as you talk about your untimely death by your own hand after a devastating weakness brought on by brutal critiques and manipulative parents. And him, about the wife he misses dearly, and Charlie’s childhood that he can never get back.
Oh how you watched him when he speaks about her. Lilith. His wife.
He always gets this hopelessly in-love look in his eyes. How his gaze softens as he recalls the time they spent together. How his face lights up when the conversation shifts toward her. It’s mesmerizing in its own way.
He shines when he talks about her. Brighter than usual. Becomes more alive
And slowly, painfully, you realize that you want that.
For him to look at you that way.
You don’t know when it started.
You were alone in the art room, painting your interpretation of heaven as Lucifer once described it.
Light, bright, white and gold, full of life and utterly mesmerizing.
You turn your head to a portrait he once painted. It was of him, Lilith and Charlie back when they were complete. They looked so happy.
He looked so happy. So bright. So dazzling.
-
That day, Lucifer was called by Charlie to the lounge to talk about hotel activities. You were left by yourself and decided to start on a new project.
While mindlessly brushing paint on the canvas, you slowly realize the colors you use. The very color palette or a certain blonde. And slowly, you start to paint yourself and him together.
You stare at the start of the project, gazing at each forming detail, his eyes looking at you in that loving gaze you wish were true. And his hands intertwined with yours.
Your hand lifts up as if to touch his hand, but it stops mid-air. Instead, you start singing, “Hands touch, eyes meet. Sudden silence, sudden heat.”
You let your arm fall back, placing your palm over your heart, “Hearts leap in a giddy whirl. He could be that boy, but I'm not that girl.”
Your gaze drifts toward the massive window stretching from floor to ceiling, Hell’s horizon flickering beyond the glass. “Don't dream too far.”
You shake your head, looking back at the portrait of Lucifer, Lilith and Charlie, “Don't lose sight of who you are.”
Then to your own painting, “Don't remember that rush of joy. He could be that boy.”
Your voice softens, “I'm not that girl.”
“Every so often, we long to steal.” You set your brush down and glance toward the spot where Lucifer usually sits to make his ducks. “To the land of what-might-have-been.”
You recall the way his gaze and his voice softens whenever he speaks of Lilith and imagine him looking at you with that same warm and adoring gaze. “But that doesn't soften the ache we feel…”
The fantasy shatters, “When reality sets back in.”
Your eyes return to their family portrait, eyes now trained on Lilith, “Blithe smile, lithe limb. She who's winsome, she wins him.”
“Gold hair with a gentle curl. That's the girl he chose.”
You turn to the window, eyes meeting your own reflection in the glass, “And Heaven knows… I'm not that girl.”
You walk back to your canvas and pick up your brush letting it rest lightly between your fingers, “Don't wish, don't start. Wishing only wounds the heart.”
With careful strokes, you paint yourself out of the scene, replacing your figure with quiet scenery instead. “I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl. There's a girl I know.”
“He loves her so. I'm not that girl.”
You wipe the lone tear that falls from your cheek. Quickly, you wipe it away and cover the unfinished canvas with a cloth, before leaving the art room.
-
Lucifer gazed down at a photo on his phone.
It was a candid shot he’d taken of you while you were painting in the art room. The sun was setting them, its golden-orange glow spilling through the windows casting a soft, warm light over you and your work.
You looked so soft, so gentle. So… breathtaking.
And oh, how he longed for you.
“Dad?”
Lucifer jolted, snapping his phone shut before looking back at Charlie. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I was talking about doing an art presentation,” she said. “I wanted your thoughts since you’ve been spending so much time with (Y/N) Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah… yeah, sweetie. It sounds great.”
He pockets his phone and tries not to imagine you back in the art room. Painting, humming ever so softly.
No Good Deed from Wicked Feat. Angel!ReaderxLucifer
Hi there! We're back with angst! Though this is more [Y/N] centric, not much detail/romance with our beloved king
Enjoy~ You chose this, so no apologies here~
For more fics, check out my TOC.
TW: Mentions/Descriptions of Dark Thoughts
An angel stands alone in the middle of one of Heaven’s gardens. Her three pairs of wings were bright as starlight, her hair falling in soft waves and her garments were pure white almost glowing in the morning radiance.
Near an old silver-barked tree, she practices her morning harmonics. Scales fall from her lips in an enchanting melody weaving through the garden like warm light through crystal. The flowers bloom under the morning light and tilt towards her as if listening.
Her voice drifts farther than intended, far enough to catch the attention of a certain, curious angel.
“Wow! Your voice is heavenly.”
The angel is startled, her wings flaring up and out in a shining arc as she whirls toward the unexpected intruder.
Her eyes widened further upon seeing who it was, “Morningstar! Your Highness. Pardon my reaction. I did not think anyone would be passing by here.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Lucifer chuckles, descending through a shaft of celestial light. He lands lightly, wings falling with feline grace, feathers settling in elegant ripples.
He studies her for a moment, observing the golden waves of magic lingering from her song.
“What’s your name?”
Doing a small curtsy the angel dips her head, “[Y/N], your highness.”
Lucifer tilts his head, eyes bright with interest, “[Y/N],” he repeats the name as though it was a line of music itself. “Beautiful. Fitting.”
You straighten, visibly flustered at the compliment, wings giving a small, betraying twitch. “Thank you, your highness.”
Lucifer shakes his head, his hand giving a dismissing wave, “No need for titles. Not with a voice like yours.”
Your breath hitches just a little.
“Was it… good enough for the morning choir? I know I’m supposed to practice set harmonics."
Lucifer smiles warmly, “It wasn’t good enough,” he says.
You falter, eyes dropping.
“It was better,” he adds.
Your head snaps up, surprised.
He walks past you, wings spreading and flying up to the sky, “You weren’t simply following the instructed melody,” He turns to look at you, “You were giving it life.”
He flutters down, “Will you sing again? For me this time?”
The garden falls silent, as if waiting for your response, “I couldn’t possibly, your high- Lucifer.”
“Then how about… with me?” He holds out his hand to you.
You place your hand in his, “As you wish.”
Lucifer’s smile brightens as he pulls you to fly up in the sky and make magic with your melodies.
-
It has been years since that day, and Lucifer and you have gotten closer. Together, you sang the most beautiful melodies, flew across the skies and talked about the beauty and blessing of existence.
-
One day, all of the angels are called to Heaven’s Assembly. Within the great atrium of light, the Speaker of God descends and announces that a new task is to be given to a select few angels.
"The Heavenly Father has created something new. Something wonderful, called Earth."
A glowing orb appears in the middle of Heaven’s Assembly, forming the view of Earth. Here, different creatures live. On land, in the waters and in the sky. The land is filled with a variety of flora of different sizes, shapes and hues.
And at the center of it all, are the first man and the first woman. Walking hand in hand beneath a canopy of leaves, lanterned with fruit and soft blossoms.
“These,” The Speaker says, “Are Adam, and Lilith. The first of humankind. Care for them, guide them, and tend to the world that shelters them. Let Earth grow, flourish and change.”
A few names are called to step up, and among those names are, “Lucifer. [Y/N].”
Lucifer turns toward you, a spark of excitement flickering in his eyes. Your own mirroring his.
He leans close enough and whispers, “Seems like we’re partners again. Though this won’t be like us sharing a song.”
Your wings twitch in excitement, mirroring his, “Perhaps. It is such an honor to be chosen. I can’t wait to see all that there is on Earth.”
“Me too.”
Lucifer offers his hand, “Shall we?”
You smile and place your hand in his, “We shall.”
-
Quickly they descend to Earth, wings cutting through the newborn skies. Sunlight catches on their feathers as they pass through the veil between realms.
The air on Earth is different compared to Heaven, it is warmer, thicker with possibility. Every scent, color, and texture is new.
“It’s beautiful,” [Y/N] whispers in awe.
“So full of life.”
Lucifer smirks, though his tone is softened by his wonder, “It’s almost as radiant as you when you sing.”
You shake your head, however your cheeks glow with warmth. “Lucifer…”
He lifts his hands in mock surrender, but fondness stays in his eyes, “I merely state the truth.”
Together with the other angels, they explore everything Earth has to offer. They fly high over mountains and walk over the grasslands. They touch the world gently, guiding its growth as commanded.
Over time, they come to know Adam and his bride, Lilith.
Both humans are fascinated by their visitors. Lilith, bold and curious, asking all there is about Heaven and Adam listens with wide eyes.
“Heaven sounds… so wonderful.” Lilith says wistfully laying her head against [Y/N]’s shoulder as she listens.
“It is. Song everywhere, smiles bright and angels fly free.” You reply.
“Seems like my kind of place.” Adam replies, sitting beside Lilith.
Lucifer sits beside you and chuckles, “Your kind of place? I bet when you get there, you’d be reprimanded for causing trouble.”
A chuckle escapes you, “Like how you do, Lucifer?”
Lucifer feigns hurt, “Me? Why, such disrespect, go back and reflect, dear angel.”
The three laugh at Lucifer’s dramatics.
Lilith raises her head from your shoulder, “You know, you and Lucifer make quite the pair.”
Lucifer raises a brow, “I suppose we do.”
“Only when he wants to cause trouble.” You gently push him with your wing, causing him to stumble into the grass.
Adam and Lilith look at each other before looking at both of you with knowing eyes. It is Adam that smirks and speaks up, “Are all angels as close as you two?”
Your cheeks turn pink, your wings fluttering, “We work well together, that’s all.”
Lucifer sits back up, his lips curl into a warm knowing smile, “Very well.”
You push him once more, “Hush you.”
Together, the four of them become inseparable. The closest of friends.
Lucifer and [Y/N] teach Adam and Lilith to tend to the animals, how to identify herbs and feel the presence of the divine in the wind.
Only happiness can be seen towards the horizon.
That is… until darkness unfolds.
-
It creeps in small, quiet and cold.
Lucifer’s ideas for Earth’s development slowly get turned down by the elders, one by one.
He proposes creating animals with mixed and countering features.
Rejected.
He suggests giving Adam and Lilith better tools to innovate the shelter they stay in.
Dismissed.
It continues until he breaches a line. Suggesting giving the fruit of knowledge to Adam and Lilith.
The Elder’s messages turn sharp and harsh.
“The humans must remain simple.”
“Too much knowledge will corrupt.”
“You are to observe, not interfere.”
Lucifer paces under the same tree where you first met, each step tight with frustration, wings trembling.
The soft flutter of wings breaks his spiraling thoughts, “Lucifer… Adam and Lilith have been asking for you the whole day. You never returned to Earth.”
He looks up at you, his brows furrowed, “They refused me. Again. They refuse every single idea I give. The only one they accepted is the creation of the duck!”
He sinks down by the roots of the tree, sighing in defeat and frustration. You move closer, lowering yourself beside him.
“Change can be frightening, even for us angels.” You say softly.
“But it doesn’t have to be.” He snaps. “What I’m trying to do is good. What we’re tasked to do is guide and improve Earth.”
“But Lucifer, what if they’re right? What if giving the fruit of knowledge to Adam and Lilith could truly harm them?”
Lucifer looks at you in disbelief. “[Y/N], not you too.”
You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Luci… I only worry you’d end up doing something you regret.”
Lucifer shrugs off your hand, angry.
“I thought you believed in me. How could you think that something I want to do would hurt them? Do you not trust Lilith? Adam? Me?”
“Luci… of course, I trust you-“
“Then why don’t you support me?” His voice rises, cracking. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you stopped speaking up for me when we raise our suggestions at the assemblies.”
“Luci-“
“And don’t think I don’t notice how much more time you spend with Adam recently.”
Your breath catches. “Lucifer, what are you saying?”
He looks at you with hurt, confusion, anger and at a loss, “Leave me.”
The words fall heavy as stone.
And you do.
Giving him a worried glance, you whisper a soft good night before flying off.
-
Over time, you and Lucifer drift apart. Conversations become short, glances become rare. The silence becomes a wall neither of you even attempt to break.
But as the distance grows, you notice something far more painful.
During your visits to Earth, Lucifer spends more and more time with Lilith.
Your heart breaks when Adam tells you that Lucifer and Lilith have fallen in love in a furious rant.
-
One day, you were called to Heaven’s Assembly.
Your breath leaves you when you see Lucifer and Lilith standing before the council, surrounded by blinding light. Their actions, their defiance leading them to this moment.
The dark pit opens beneath them and you try to rush forward, to plead for mercy, for forgiveness on their behalf.
But the other angels held you back.
You can only watch in despair as Lilith and Lucifer, your dear friend and your love… Fall.
Love.
The truth hits you like a blow.
You loved him.
You loved the Morningstar.
And now, it’s far too late. Tears fall as you realize your beacon of light and dreams disappear into the darkness below.
-
For years afterward, you do everything you can to save him. You preach his goodness, his brilliance, his compassion. Anything.
But each time, you are silenced.
“Keep quiet.”
“Do not question the decree.”
“Do you wish to fall as well?”
And so you endure, quietly carrying the memory of him alone. Your love buried beneath the weight of Heaven’s rejection of your efforts.
-
After years, Adam arrives in Heaven along with his children. He seeks you out almost immediately. His face that was once so gentle, filled with wonder and curiosity is now hardened, etched with grief and resentment.
He tells you of his new bride, Eve, and the anger he carries towards Lilith and Lucifer. How he felt betrayed, not only because Lilith left him but because Lucifer took Eve from his side.
His voice trembles when he reveals the final blow.
Lucifer and Lilith have had a child.
A daughter.
Your heart cracks wide open at that.
‘A daughter. Lucifer has a daughter.’
Your vision swims, your body trembles. The ache inside you finally threatens to swallow you whole.
‘Was it all nothing to Lucifer?’
‘Was everything you shared nothing to him?’
‘Why did he keep stacking sin after sin? Why did he let himself fall farther and farther from you?’
Bleakness settles over you like ash.
-
Rumors slowly begin to trickle within the circles of the high ranking angels.
“Hell’s population is increasing rapidly.”
“The sinners are being led by Lilith to retaliate against Heaven.”
“Hell is growing in power and will soon wish to wage war over Heaven!”
You didn’t know what to believe.
The years of anger, grief and feelings of betrayal churn inside your head. Whirling in your mind like a storm.
But still… you cling to hope.
You pray that the whispers are all lies. You pray that Lucifer is not lost.
-
One day, you attend an assembly of Heaven’s high ranking angels.
The topic of discussion? What to do with Hell’s growing power and population.
“Maybe we can help them decrease the sinners population somehow?” You suggest.
“That’s right! Let’s take responsibility into our own hands! They clearly can’t handle this themselves.”
Another voice joins in, sharper, eager. “Right, we can-”
“We can exterminate the sinners yearly!” Adam suggests.
“What?! No!” you cry, horrified.
Adam laughs darkly, his general’s helmet glistening on his head. “Fuck yes! Come on Sera, Hell is bound to retaliate one of these centuries. It’s best we protect the souls in Heaven before they strike first.”
“Sera! Sera no!” You plead, but the tide has shifted.
Sera rises from her seat, “This meeting is dismissed. Adam, come with me, you and I need to discuss this new decree.”
“Sera!" you shout again, helpless as Adam follows Sera out the assembly hall.
Your pulse hammers. Your breath shudders.
Quickly, you rush from the hall to your office. Your wings dragging behind you in frantic despair.
You fling open drawers, papers scattering to the floor. You search for a quill, ink and parchment. Your hand trembles as you find them, dropping them to your desk and you press you quill to the page.
Words pouring out somehow from your head, your voice trembling as it rises into a song.
“What am I doing?”
“Why did I say that?”
“Have to, got to stop this.”
Your hand writing grows frantic, nearly unreadable.
“What am I doing?”
“Why did I say that?”
“Have to, got to stop this.”
Soon, conditions of your counter-proposal for the new decree form onto the page.
“Let his family be spared”
“Let the hellborn be skimped”
“Let them focus on sinners”
“Only they shall be slain”
You sign the parchment, heart pounding.
“Let his light never dim”
“And however they try”
“To destroy him”
You rush to Sera’ office, a swirl of many emotions. Fear, desperation and hope.
“May his light never die”
“May this creed be applied”
Your wings flap, a nervous stutter in your flight, but you push through.
“Sera, anyone, everyone”
“May these words convince you”
“Hell won’t start a war”
“Not unless, unless you choose to.”
You reach Sera’s door and open up the scroll once more, looking over at your proposal, your last resort to at least save the ones you care about. “Ugh! What good is this writing?”
You pull on your hair, frustrated and scared, “I don’t even know if they’ll listen. I don’t even know if I should still try.”
You look out the tall window, towards Heaven’s orange tinted skies, a vision of Lucifer and Lilith invading your mind,
Lucifer, how are you?
Dreaming away still with Lilith?
One more heartbreak I can add to my generous supply?
You enter Sera’s office finding her discussing with Adam and his right hand, Lute, about the extermination.
You offer your proposal, which thankfully they accept and consider reasonable. However, knowing Adam’s anger and resentment towards Lucifer and by extension, Hell, you make a difficult decision.
You join the angelic army.
With every day that you prepare to exterminate sinners, you recall each memory you have with him. Slowly those memories twist into something dark.
Each memory, you begin to question your own intentions. The day he approached you, each time you joined in on his fun. You begin to look at each memory as if you were in the wrong from the very beginning.
No good deed goes unpunished
No act of charity goes unresented
As you endure the harsh training, more memories flash in your head. Falling deeper into dark places.
No good deed goes unpunished
That's my new creed
Finally, you reach a high enough rank to command your own division of troops.
My road of good intentions
Led where such roads always lead
No good deed
Goes unpunished…
On the eve of the first extermination, you stare at your reflection, haunted by the echoes of a time when the four of you were happy.
Adam…
Lilith…
Lucifer…
Lucifer!
A single tear falls. You don your helmet and join the army. Marching to the gates.
You sing softly,
One question haunts and hurts
Too much, too much to mention:
Was I really seeking good
Or seeking his attention?
When you reach the assembly, you stand in attention. Adam gives instructions. You raise your spear along with the other soldier.
Is that all my deeds are
When looked at with an ice-cold eye?
If what all I do are
Maybe that's the reason why…
You dive down. Hell erupts in screams beneath you.
You fly quickly, wings flapping behind you as you start killing left and right.
No good deed goes unpunished
All helpful urges should be circumvented.
No good deed goes unpunished
Sure, I meant well
You pause your slaughter, looking at Hell from above, seeing the chaos of the extermination. Your voice trembles, “Well, look at what well-meant did… All right, enough.”
You look round and decide, you have been hurt enough. You stone your heart and raise your spear.
So be it, so be it then
Let Heaven and Hell be agreed
I'm wicked through and through
You dive back down, now faster and fiercer.
Since I can not succeed
Lucifer, redeeming you
I promise no good deed
Will I attempt to do again!
Ever again!
No good deed will I do AGAIN!
You fly across Hell’s skies and swoop down on the sinners, reigning terror and death. Hell burning beneath your wings.
-
Unknown to you, Lucifer looks through the glass of his tower. And there, he spots you. His eyes widened in disbelief. A flash of regret in his eyes.
Hi! I had a bit of trouble navigating this part because I wanted this to be a turning point to move the story forward. No more little miss introductions here! We're diving down to the fire! >:3
Eyes continue to follow them from around the club, gazes filled with curiosity, and some linger a bit too long. Velvette and (Y/N) clink their glasses with a practiced flourish.
(Y/N) takes a slow sip from her glass, her eyes grazing over the onlookers over her glass’ rim, “You truly attract attention wherever you go, huh?”
Velvette laps up the attention on them like spotlight sugar. She sets her own drink down and props her chin on the palm of her hand, “Can you blame them? I’m a walking headline, darling.”
(Y/N) shrugs, placing her own glass down, “Don’t you get tired of attracting unwanted flies though?”
Velvette’s smile turns icy instantly, “Oh, I don’t mind the flies. Makes it easier to spot the trash.”
(Y/N) smirks before taking another sip of her drink, “So you’re calling yourself trash?”
“You-!”
Before Velvette can fire back, the waiter appears with a polite smile, notepad and pen in hand, “Are you ready to order ma’am?”
Both women stare at him, flat and unimpressed.
It is (Y/N) who composes herself first, “I’ll have the truffle pasta and a side salad.”
The waiter scribbles the order down and turns to Velvette, “And for you, miss?”
“Wagyu beef medallions, medium rare.”
More scratching of a pen on paper before the waiter gives another polite smile before slipping away with the menus.
(Y/N) watches him go before shooting Velvette a look. “Wagyu? Really going for the most expensive option on the menu?”
Velvette lifts her shoulders in a delicate shrug, “I said I’d splurge on your account, didn’t I?” She tilts her head, voice dripping in saccharine venom, ”Or are you so poor that you can’t afford it?”
(Y/N) only smiles, settling back in her chair with practiced ease, “Not at all, after all, I am the one who invited you out to make up for missing your message.”
Velvette’s icy smirk softens into her trademark sultry curl of amusement.
“Speaking of,” (Y/N) taps her chin in thought, “Why did you message the business account and not my personal one? I would have seen your message sooner. I recall that my personal account was tagged as co-author on the posts there too.”
Velvette chokes from her drink.
Actually chokes.
A few heads turn towards their table as she coughs into her hand, the image of glamor briefly cracking like cheap plastic. She gathers herself quickly, though she inwardly growls as she smooths her hair back into place.
“Oh darling,” She begins, slipping into her PR smile, “I’m not one to mix business with my personal life. After all, a little upstart like you might think I’m sliding into your DMs for fun~”
“So you’re admitting I did catch your attention.”
“Who said it wasn’t?” Velvette fries smoothly, already pulling out her phone, “But don’t get your hopes up, just because I showed up doesn’t mean you’re worth any of my time.”
She scrolls through her socials, snapping photos, adding filters and throwing stickers onto her story without looking up.
(Y/N) raises her hands in mock surrender her eyes, however contain a challenging glint, “Don’t worry, I’m not one to assume things like that.”
She leans forward, lacing her fingers together, “So tell me, why is the Velvette herself paying attention to lil’ ol’ me?”
Velvette angles her phone toward (Y/N), takes a picture and aggressively decorates it with stickers and emojis, “Who knows? Maybe you have a drop of potential. Hell does love to prey on new meat, and you just might be my latest delicacy.”
Their food arrives, however the delicious scent and warmth of the food is not enough to melt the now tense atmosphere between the two fashion icons.
Unbothered, (Y/N) takes a bite, “So, you want me to work for the Vees?”
Velvette scoffs, snapping a photo of her wagyu and posts it on her story before she starts cutting into her own plate, “The Vees? Hell no. I want you to work for me, exclusively.”
(Y/n)’s eyes flicker with interest, caution and something unspoken. She quickly masks the emotions away, instead she replaces it with a polite smile.
“Hmmm… Tempting,” She says lightly, taking another bite of her food, ”But no thank you.”
“Excuse me?”
Utensils clatter on the plate as Velvette stares at her, unbelieving that someone as small as her is able to reject an offer from a Vee like it was some pebble on the side of the road.
‘How dare she-’
Velvette quickly schools her expression back to the sugary sweet PR smile, though she can’t stop the twitching at the corner of her eye.
“No? Ha, interesting choice. Not the smartest, totally fine! After all, not everyone can handle success. Or fame. Or me.”
Whispers start to spread around the club, a new topic of discussion on the public’s lips. An upcoming scandal under the Vees’ name no doubt, but this time it is in the negatives.
Velvette notices the increased noise around.
She hears it.
She hates it.
She’s the one who stirs the gossip. She isn’t the one who the gossip is about.
She leans back on her seat, crossing one leg over the other with exaggerated poise.
(Y/N) feels the shift as well, she tries to compose herself.
But Velvette sees it. The tense grip on the utensils, the faint twitch under her eye.
“Uhuh”, (Y/N) repeats, her voice thinning, “It’s not that I can’t handle fame. I'm already tied up with someone else.”
Velvette lets out a breathy laugh, her tone sweet at first but the edges are sharp, “Just so we’re clear sweetheart, people don’t usually say no to me. Not unless they’re trying to make a statement.”
“So,” She tilts her head, her eyes narrowing like she is examining a bug she wants to squish under the sole of her heel, “If you’re trying to make a statement, consider yourself cancelled.”
She pulls out her phone once more, tapping the screen, the atmosphere surrounding the two of them shifting, making clear the difference in status between them, reminding (Y/N) who she is talking to.
“And tell me,” She purrs, “Who exactly is this oh-so-important someone that is stopping you from making a deal with me?”
(Y/N) lifts her glass and drinks. Silent and calm.
Her calm attitude is now becoming an annoyance to the social media overlord. Velvette’s eye twitches, but then something clicks in her mind and her face lights up in wicked delight.
“Oh, I get it. You're literally tied up. In chains!” She laughs, loudly. Her eyes mocking, drawing another round of attention, “Ha! I knew it. There is no chance that an up and coming like you would ever be able to amount to anything without a backer.”
She leans in like a predator ecstatic to find her prey fallen in a trap set, “So who is it? Zeezee? Rosie? Or wait, don't tell me, that drab Carmilla Carmine? Though that would explain the disgustingly plain outfits you style, haha!”
“Stop.”
Velvette doesn’t even hear her. She’s on a roll, too delighted with her discovery to notice (Y/N)’s stare darkening.
“If I’d known that you were someone else’s chained little pet, I never would’ve messaged you. Trending or not!” Her laughter spikes again. “Come on, tell me, who is it? Maybe I can trade your soul for a better designer-.”
That was the last straw. (Y/N) pushes back her chair, stands and turns.
Velvette notices and cuts off mid-laugh, grabbing her wrist with manicured fingers, “Now, now,” She coos, “No walking out on me darling~ Not without telling me who owns your-”
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Oh? The chained dog knows how to bark?”
She releases her wrist with a flourish.
“Fine. But know this.”
Her voice drops, cold and final.
“If you walk out now you’re done.”
(Y/N) doesn’t answer. She just walks, paying for their tab on her way out. The entire club watches her leave.
And Velvette watches her go, grinning with her chin perched on her hand. She lifts her phone, snapping a picture of (Y/N)’s retreating silhouette and posts it with a glittery caption she knows will spark a new trending hashtag.
After the happenings at the end of season 2, I think we all wanna hug our favorite Morningstar. So... here's my take. Enjoy~
(fun fact, this is my first time ever writing angst... or something like this so... yeah :3)
Also, reader is Luci's lover in this take.
Edit: For more fics, check out my TOC
After the threat of Vox’s weapon of mass destruction, the Hazbin Hotel’s crew go back into the hotel to treat their injuries. Emily goes back home to Heaven with Abel to inform Sera of the development between Heaven and Hell.
You, who stayed behind to prepare everything just in case - first aid kit, food, change of clothes - quickly jump into action once you hear their voices, signaling their arrival back home.
After seeing VoxTek's broadcast, you knew that the crew would need everything.
Everything.
Once inside, you hurry them to the lounge and check on them, asking them what they needed. But even as you move from person to person, something is missing. No, someone.
You do a quick headcount.
Alastor was, as expected, nowhere to be seen, likely entertaining himself somewhere in the hotel or something, but that wasn’t the issue.
A certain blonde king was missing.
Instantly, you worry and excuse yourself from the group. “I’m just gonna take care of something guys.”
‘The supplies would be enough to hold them over, surely.’
You grab another first aid kit and run to Lucifer’s room.
-
Lucifer staggers into his room moments earlier, barely making it to his bed before he collapses onto it. Blood seeped into the sheets as he peeled off his coat with trembling fingers.
Before he can even catch his breath, you burst through the door, “Lucifer!”
Startled, his wings spring up from behind him like a reflex. Lucifer tries to sit up straighter. Least to say he fails miserably as he lets out a wince.
“(Y-Y/N),” he wheezed, forcing a laugh, “You know, heh… knocking exists, right?”
You ignore the joke and rush to his side, placing the first aid kit on the table and leaning over him with frantic eyes.
“I noticed you weren’t down there with the others. You’re bleeding everywhere.”
Without hesitation, you reach for his shirt and gently peel it off.
Lucifer’s eyes widened, “Woah, darling, at least buy me a drink first.”
You didn’t react. Not even a twitch.
Instead, you focus on checking his injuries.
His torso was covered in jagged punctures. Sets of small holes that look like they were caused by charging prongs. Faint scorch marks where repeated shocks had hit him.
His body flinched involuntarily, as though expecting another surge of electricity.
“Luci…” You reach forward but stop your hand short for fear of hurting him more, “Oh my stars…”
Lucifer chuckles weakly, “Well, I suppose I am your star. Your Morningstar.”
You don’t laugh, “Lucifer. This is bad. Why didn’t you say anything?”
‘It was my fault to begin with.’ he almost said, but the words died in his throat.
Instead, he forces a smirk and flexes his wings, “Oh darling, no need to fuss over me.”
You only stare at him deadpan.
Seeing you see past his facade, he looks away, wings drooped and folding back into him
“I knew Box’s contraption couldn’t kill me,” He muttered.
The excuse only made your blood boil.
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care that you got hurt!” You huff pulling disinfectant, cotton and bandages from the kit.
“King of Hell or not, you should have been down there. Getting treated.” You start putting disinfectant on a cotton ball. “Why did you head back here? Alone no less? What if I hadn’t noticed you were missing?”
“I could have treated my injuries just fine.”
You shoot him a glare, “As if I would believe that.”
You hold up a cotton ball, “Now hold still, this is going to sting.”
Lucifer lets out a soft snort, but his voice wavers, “(Y/N), I’ve survived Heaven, marriage and fatherhood. Hell, I've even survived electrocution. I can handle a little stinging.”
“Hold still anyway,” You say as you start cleaning his wounds.
Lucifer watches you closely as you work on treating his injuries, letting out a soft hiss every now and then when you get to a particularly painful one.
He isn’t used to this.
He felt… seen.
He had spent centuries giving support. Supporting Lilith while ruling Hell. Supporting Charlie with her dream.
Now, being cared for felt foreign. Too intimate. Too… real.
‘She is just being nice.’ He thinks.
‘It’s nothing more than that.’
A sharp sting pulls him back from his thoughts.
“Sorry,” you murmur, blowing gently on the deepest wound, “This one’s a particularly bad one.”
Lucifer exhales shakily, half in pain, half in… something else.
There is a short pause before he suddenly asks, “Do you pity me?”
Your hand freezes mid-motion, eyebrows drawing in confusion.
“...What?”
Lucifer’s eyes flick up, towards you. Guarded, tired, almost defensive.
“You heard me.”
Your voice rises in a mixture of disbelief and frustration, “Yeah, I heard you, but what the hell do you mean by that, Luci?”
He turns his gaze away from you, shaking his head, “Forget it.”
“No,” Your hand gently brushes against his cheek, guiding him back to look at you, “Lucifer, why would you think I am doing this because I pity you?”
He swallowed, silence stretching.
“Lucifer,” You whisper, “I don’t pity you.”
He tenses face crumpling sightly, “Then what is all this?”
You don’t hesitate, “This is me loving you.”
Lucifer’s breath catches. His eyes widen, then soften glowing like glass catching candlelight.
“Loving me.” He repeats, as if this is the first time you’ve ever told him those words.
“You say that so easily.”
“It’s easy because it’s true.”
He stares at you, his eyes darting between yours like he is trying to find the trick, the lie, the price. Instead, he sees his own reflection in your eyes. He sees fear.
His fear.
“Why do you even love me?” He whispers.
“Lucifer… How could I not?”
“How could you not not?” He lets out a sad, broken laugh, “I’m the serpent, the angel who caused the suffering of all men. I can’t do anything right.”
His head hangs and his voice shakes, “Not with Lilith, not with Eve and the apple. I couldn’t even help my daughter when she needed me!”
His breathing grows uneven, pain, panic and guilt mixing.
“I even got trapped by Vox and got used as a damned battery for some weapon of mass destruction that destroyed HALF of the Pentagram!”
His whole body trembles as if reliving the pain from what he experienced. He gestures to himself with shaky hands, broken and bleeding.
“I’m the King of Hell, the Morningstar. I should be stronger than this! I should be better than this. But I can’t. All I ever do is disappoint the people I love!”
You drop the bandages and immediately cup his face in both hands.
He stiffens, but doesn’t pull away.
“Lucifer. Look at me.”
He tries.
“You think I love you because you’re perfect?”
He opened his mouth, “I’m not-”
“No,” You cut in, “I love you because you’re you. Because you care so deeply it hurts. Because you keep fighting and you keep showing up even when you feel like you’re failing. Even when you’re unsure of what to do, you are still here.”
You brush your thumb along the glowing scratch along his jaw.
“You are not the serpent. You are a man who made a mistake. A man who tried to bring something good to Heaven and paid the price. A man who raised a daughter to believe in hope and wonder when you stopped believing in yourself.”
His breath hitches and his eyes flicker with something raw. Something vulnerable.
“You loved Lilith. You tried to do something good for Eve. And everyday you try for Charlie. And what happened with Vox?”
You shake your head firmly, “That is not a proof of weakness. You were tricked. You were tortured. But you are still here.”
Your voice softens.
“You’re not a failure. And you’re not unlovable. Not to me. Not ever.”
Lucifer’s composure shatters, tears spill freelyl from his eyes and soft sobs and whimpers escape his lips.
“Why… why would you choose someone like me?”
You smile gently and wipe away his tears, “Because you’re worth choosing.”
That was it.
Lucifer breaks.
His head falls on your shoulder, his own trembles with every sob, every whimper and every shaky breath he takes.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know what to say.”
You smile softly, arms wrapping around him in a firm embrace, “You don’t have to do anything.”
“Just let yourself be loved.”
-
Lucifer sits quietly as you secure the last bandage around his ribs. The tension on his shoulders had eased, but you can still see that he is tired.
You put away the medical supplies and get ready to leave, but before you could stand, his hand reaches out and wraps around your wrist.
“Don’t go.” He says softly.
You smile and squeeze his hand, “I wasn’t planning on it, love.”
You sit beside him on his bed, as he shifts to make room for you which causes him to wince as the bandages pull a bit on his injuries.
“Careful, you’re still injured. I am not sitting through round two.”
He places his palm on his chest and gasps dramatically, “You would abandon your poor wounded angel?”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head at his antics, moving a bit closer. “Drama king.”
Lucifer’s dramatic expression melts into a small, genuine smile. “Thank you.”
You blink, “For what?”
“For everything.” His voice drops into something quiet.
Your smile softens.
He hesitates, looking between you and the bed, “Would it be…” He clears his throat. “I dunno, weird if I… wanted to cuddle?”
You gasp dramatically, “The King of Hell wants to cuddle?”
“Oh shut up. You know what, nevermind, just-”
“Lucifer.” You cut him off gently. “Of course we can.”
Before he can back out due to embarrassment, you slide your arms around him, careful of the bandages.
He melts into your embrace almost instantly, resting his forehead against your shoulder.
“Please…” He whispers, “Don’t let me go.”
You hold him tighter, one hand reaching up and running through his hair.
Hi! I'm back with the 3rd chapter! Who's excited to see Y/N and Velvette's 1st "business" meeting? Also, thank you so much to everyone who are reading this! Didn't expect a lot of y'all to like this. Sorry this one is a bit short, but I'mma try to make a longer one next chapter. Oh! Also feel free to comment, I'd love to hear from y'all.
At the edge of the Vee’s District is a high-end, exclusive club called Ember & Ivory. It is one of the few establishments in Vee territory that is not under the Vee’s control, owned by the Sin of Envy herself.
Paparazzis cover the entrance of the club after seeing Velvette's update of her destination. When a limo with the logo of the Vees arrives, the paparazzi swarm it, cameras clicking, each one trying to one-up the other on the latest scoop on Velvette’s wardrobe, some wanting an interview on Velvette’s future fashion plans and the rest simply wanting to see the Queen Vee herself.
Velvette walks out of the limo with exaggerated grace, blowing kisses and loudly announcing her arrival.
“I know, I know, it’s good to see me~”
“Kisses darlings~!”
The cameras love her, snapping multiple photos of her outfit. A black and pink dress with a bodice made from black velvet, laced with pink ribbons, adding a corset-like feel with a sweet neckline edged with pink ruffles. Her pink skirt, asymmetrical and layered with ruffles cascading in soft folds and cinches slightly at the waist. Finishing her outfit is a black choker on her neck, black boots and her hair in two heart buns, completing the playful and gothic look.
Following her entrance is a sleek, black car and out comes (Y/N), sporting a more chic and elegant attire. Wearing a cream form-fitting high-neck, long sleeved turtleneck top, paired with a high waisted, brown midi pleated skirt. The look is completed with a pair of light beige suede pointed-toe ankle boots, a delicate gold necklace and her hair in a (h/s). Seeing the newest up and coming designer, the paparazzi split in two, wanting to cover both the hottest fashion icons in Hell.
“Is that from your latest line?”
“What inspired your collection?”
“Miss (Y/N) I love your creations!”
She simply waves to the crowd before turning to walk to the host stand.
At exactly 9:01 P.M., both female sinners reach the host stand.
“Reservation for 9PM.”
“Reservation for 9PM.”
They both speak at the same time, the hostess looks between the two.
Light tension fills the air before it is broken by the sinner in black and pink.
Velvette looks at the sinner who dares to go at the same time as her. She smiles and speaks in a sugary-sweet tone, “Umm, excuse me, darling~? I think you’re lost. The line starts behind me.”
The sinner simply tilts her head and looks at Velvette up and down. Velvette smirks, “Seems like you aren’t blind. I know it’s a lot to take in, glamour like this doesn't happen by accident, babe~.” She places a hand on her hip, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
The sinner scoffs, “Excuse you but I’ve seen last-minute Halloween costumes with more taste.”
The tension between them is so thick, it can be cut with a knife and the audience around them is living for it.
Velvette’s expression almost freezes, she lets out a frustrated growl before shrugging the insult off by laughing, “Haha, funny. Such a strong opinion from someone dressed like expired milk.”
The sinner smirks, “Is this how you greet all the people you invite to meet, Velvette?”
When the word ‘invite’ was thrown, the paparazzi burst into silent chatter. “Invite? Queen Vee herself invited (Y/N) out?”
“Is she scouting her as a designer for the Vees?”
“No way! A new ship?!”
“Are you stupid? The queen Vee won’t go out on a date with an up and coming… will she?”
“I don’t care, I’m shipping it.”
It takes effort for Velvette not to roll her eyes after hearing the speculations of the public. She turns back to the sinner in front of her and gives her a onceover one more, her smile widening a bit.
“You’re (Y/N)?”
(Y/N) smiles, “The one and only. Shall we head inside?”
Velvette huffs, “I suppose I might as well splurge on your account.”
The two sinners turn back to the hostess who is hiding behind the host stand. The hostess quickly fixes herself and stands back up, ready to receive the two as the tension between the two ladies lessens.
“P-please follow me.” The hostess guides them inside the club to one of the VIP booths.
The paparazzis move to follow the two inside for more juicy gossip, but are blocked by the bouncer. Complaints and curses are thrown from the group as Velvette and (Y/N) are escorted inside.
As they are seated Velvette gives the place a quick look around, the velvet couches, crystal chandeliers, the glass ceilings showing the red night sky of Hell. Patrons speaking in low tones, dressed in elegance spotting some wearing her own designs and a couple of other designers. The live string quartet playing faintly in the background.
“So, why did you want to meet with me?” (Y/N) asks as she browses through the menu.
“Let’s just say it was clickbait.” Velvette replies as she flips the page, looking through the cocktails.
(Y/N) chuckles, “So my designs caught the great Velvette’s eyes. What an honor.” She looks up from her menu with a smirk on her face.
“But I doubt little designs such as mine would grab your attention. So I think this is because of certain hashtags.”
Velvette lowers her menu down, her lips curling into her signature too-sweet smirk. Her eyes have a certain twinkle like she is having fun playing with a new toy. She leans in slightly, resting her chin on her hand.
“Hashtags? Oh sweetie, no. I was bored while scrolling through the media when your little video caught my eye. Whether you meant to catch my eye or just tripped into the algorithm, that is nothing more than pure dumb luck.”
Before (Y/N) can reply, she shuts her menu and raises her hand to call the waiter. “Either way, let’s not talk about business this early in the night. I don’t do my meetings that way. I’m here to enjoy and splurge on your account~!”
The waiter arrives and asks them for their drink order. Both place them, a cosmopolitan for (Y/N) and a French 75 for Velvette. As quick as he leaves, he comes back with their orders.
Velvette raises her glass, “So, shall we?” She reiterates (Y/N)’s words.
(Y/N) smiles and clicks her glass with hers, “To a fabulous evening.”
stormborns
germansingergirl