AdamsApple? đ
Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along
A/N â So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servantsâ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.
Warnings â None.
Rating â T
MALE VERSION HERE
GN VERSION HERE
Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326Â @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch
Do you think you can manage that? Luciferâs words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.
So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasnât fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a personâs character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.
There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldnât have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.
Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.
And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadnât committed any crimes to get sent here originally â it was their home.
Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.
âNo,â You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.
No? Didnât you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasnât an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didnât go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.
You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.
âLook, Iâm only here âcos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, Iâll go and youâll never have to see me again, but youâre not even trying right now. You havenât spoken to me. You donât know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlieâs right, you do need someone to talk to.â
âI donât-â Lucifer started.
âYou donât even know why Iâm down here,â You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. âAnd you donât want to know, right? âCos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!â
Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, âIâm going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that youâll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, donât we?â
Lucifer didnât know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive⊠everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.
Who were you, really?
He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.
Yet⊠Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didnât seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then⊠unless? No, you couldnât be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.
Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldnât sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlieâs patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.
Well, it wouldnât take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.
âYeah,â Lucifer said evenly. âI love my Charlie.â
âSo, youâll try then.â
Lucifer nodded his head in consent.
âOkay, Iâll see you in the morning. Good night.â
The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.
When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didnât feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.
In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.
You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastorâs morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didnât want anything from him.
After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up⊠There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?
You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.
Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.
You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlieâs childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.
Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldnât hear him coming.
Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.
However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.
Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.
He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.
Nothing happened.
Luciferâs expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You werenât from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.
Very well.
He would keep his word and⊠Tolerate you.
He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.
Lucifer didnât sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.
The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.
âJUST TRY IT!â He heard you yell. âTRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!â
âUhâŠâ Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadnât bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didnât need them for anything more than cleaning.
âARGH!â You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.
âWhat- What is this?â Lucifer asked, confused.
âOh shit!â You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.
âDo they eat?â You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, ââCos theyâve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.â
Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldnât help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.
âThey donât need to.â
âOkay, but can they?â
âIf they wanted to, I suppose so.â Â
You glared at the mushed-up pancake, âI fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!â
âIâm sorry, who now?â Lucifer asked.
âWell, they clean, donât they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.â
Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.
âFine, if you want them to eat, youâve got to cook in style.â
He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.
Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didnât think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.
The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.
You couldnât help laughing.
âSee?â You struggled to get the words out, âI knew theyâd like food. Iâm just a shite cook.â
Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.
âHah,â You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Luciferâs gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. âIâll uh, clean this up.â
âNo need, leave it to Flim and Flam,â Lucifer said nonchalantly.
âYou know thatâs not their names.â
âWhatever. So⊠weâve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?â
The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Luciferâs acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.
âI donât know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.â
âI canât. I have⊠plans.â
Luciferâs mood soured as he thought about visiting Heavenâs embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The dĂ©cor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didnât respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.
It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.
âPlans? So, youâre setting up Charlieâs meeting today?â You guessed astutely. âYou know, Iâm walking that way too.â
Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadnât been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of âtryingâ. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.
âFine. Letâs go,â He said, flicking his hand back blasĂ©ly, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.
It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.
Levi Ackerman's final lines
I can be ur angle or yuor devil
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