An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
It took awhile to update this one, mainly because I chose such a terribly difficult concept to write lmao. But there are some really nice moments in this chapter that I hope the whole thing in general goes over well. As always, here’s a little excerpt below:
Lucifer throws himself full swing into his work, giving out favors, fulfilling desires, calling in every price thereafter. Demons and damned alike wonder just what it was that made the Devil walk in Hell again, stoic and still in his throne for so long. But Lucifer pays them no mind, commanding the underworld, inflicting celestial justice for those who caused so much harm in their human lives. All in the hope that something might come along to distract him from the reality that one errant prayer has forever altered everything he’s ever been or will be.
But then too much time begins to pass. The warmth of her soul becomes little more than a soft memory, an experience that starts to feel like it belongs to someone else entirely. Lucifer attempts to convince himself that it is for the best, that light like hers should not be spent on someone like him. Even if she did pray to him again, he wouldn’t answer. That was resolute. It was a one-time thing, an impulse which merely served to itch a scratch he didn’t know he had. That’s all it was.
He would not answer her again, no matter what it might be that finally makes its way to him.
It was a laughably fragile resolve.
Because in all his imagination, all his deliberation over how she would come into his world again, Lucifer never thought she would ever pray a single, broken word that would be just a breath of her, gone before he could ever hope to hold onto it.
No, she prayed.
And it felt like she was screaming it out for the entire universe to hear. One word.
No.
