Chapter Text
Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
Mortals loved to flirt with that line.
To him, it only brought memories. Painful ones. All he could say in response was, Yes.
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The bright lights of Heaven glared down at him.
He looked up at the High Angels of Heaven. He had been chained, pushed to his knees. He saw nothing but stony anger. It had been a week since he gave the apple to Eve. A week of fighting.
He was tired as he looked up at the great figures in front of him.
Tired, bloodied, and completely spent.
Samael, God’s voice echoed through his mind. For your crimes against Earth and for bringing evil to humanity, you are hereby banished from the Golden Realm forever. You are stripped of your angelic status and are to be cast down into the pit you created, Hell. You will be the First Fallen.
Samael curled up on himself as he looked up at his older brothers and sisters.
The archangels.
His family.
He glanced up through the feathery white wings blocking his view and caught a glimpse of Lilith. The expression on her face was torn between panic and worry.
He reached desperately for her, trying to move, but cold, sharp spears stabbed into his left hand and foot. Joel. Azrael. Two more betrayals. “Stop, please! Please, I’m sorry! Stop!” His cries sounded weak and pitiful even to his own ears. His siblings didn’t answer.
Michael - warm, supportive, Michael, his eldest brother, drew his sword. The sword given to him by God himself.
The one he had sworn to use only on enemies of Heaven. The look on his face told Samael all he needed to know.
Anger, hatred, disappointment. There was no place left for him here.
Michael glanced down before setting his sword to Samael’s first pair of wings.
He felt Michael’s smooth hands on them, finishing the job.
They say the sound of pure agony was born at that moment.
Samael cried as his golden wings fell to the floor. The middle pair was even worse. Then came the last ones. “Please have mercy! Please! PLEEASE! His cries silenced. Six golden wings lay scattered across the floor, golden blood pooling beneath them.
Father. Joel. Azrael. Michael.
Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel grabbed him, causing him to scream once again.
That was three more. His former siblings dragged him roughly to the Pearly Gates, and they pinned him down. Samael fought back as best he could, but the combined force of all his siblings stopped him.
Michael cut his cheek with his sword, forcing him down.
The last thing he saw before he Fell was all of the eyes of his siblings, staring at him with hate. Then, he plummeted.
It was not a quick Fall.
No, Heaven wouldn’t grant him that. They wanted him to suffer. And what Heaven wanted, Heaven got. The Fall burned more than any fire, the sulfuric air acidic against his fresh wounds.
The crater he made when he landed never healed.
Samael didn’t know how long he laid there, body broken across the ground. He drifted in and out of consciousness, trying to stay awake.
The first time he was fully aware since his Fall was when Lilith tried to heal his wounds. Joel’s spear had stabbed him through his dominant left hand, and he could tell if he ever walked again, Azrael’s spear would leave a permanent limp.
“I don’t understand the pain. Your wounds won’t stop bleeding, and they’re already getting infected.” Lilith said.
She gently wrapped his hand, and Samael winced. “Angelic steel. Heaven making sure I never forget my crimes. These wounds will never heal.”
Lilith bristled, and Samael could hear the venom in her voice, so clearly directed towards Heaven. “No. Sammy, you did nothing wrong. It’s those pricks of your former family that did wrong. They deserve the pain you feel.”
Samael flinched. “Lils, don’t say that. Please. No one deserves to suffer like this.” Except for me, he thought.
Lilith relaxed as she moved on to cleaning his back wounds.”Okay, my love. I won’t.” As she was cleaning the wounds from Michael’s sword, she froze.
“No. No no no.” Lilith looked towards the sky, all of her rage back in an instant. “Sammy, is Michael’s sword angelic steel?”
Samael looked up at her, confused. “No, it’s made of Holy Light, but it was given by God himself to leave a scar on th-the enemies of Heaven.” That included him.
Lilith’s eyes burned. “They wanted you to remember,” she said, voice trembling, but not from fear. From fury. “Every breath. Every step. Every moment. They wanted you to remember your mistake.”
“Lils, what’s wrong?” Samael asked, voice growing dark. “What did they do?”
“It’s better I show you.” She said, conjuring an illusion. That was new. But Samael was too preoccupied with his ruined back. On it were the three slash marks, for each pair of wings, but in the center Michael had carved his star sign. A star in a circle. A pentagram. Samael had been so proud when he came up with that name. But that was behind him. Inside the pentagram, lay a single word, elegantly carved into his flesh. Morningstar. Once beloved by all, now loved by no one. A gentle nudge on his back reminded him that wasn’t totally true. He still had Lilith. And Father, was she pissed.
Her hand tightened over the cloth, not hurting him, grounding herself. “They did this to you.”
His expression hardened. “It’s their justice. It’s what I deserve.”
Something shattered in her gaze.
“No. This isn’t justice,” she said, voice low and shaking. “Call it what you will. Order. Holiness. Righteousness.”
Her tone sharpened. “It’s cruelty.” The word hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.
She stood up slowly, shoulders squared, staring toward the distant sky as if she could see past the gates that cast him down. “You gave everything for them,” she said. “You brought them light. You guarded their dreams. You loved—”
Her voice faltered. She swallowed hard.
“And when you made one mistake, they didn’t forgive. They didn’t listen. They didn’t even try to understand you.”
Her hands curled into fists. “They tore your wings from you and said it was justice.”
Samael’s eyes darkened. “I was a traitor to them,” he said quietly.
“They were your siblings,” she snapped back, anger flashing. “Until you came out of the shadows. They don’t deserve you, my Samael.”
A silence passed between them. Not peaceful. Loaded.
He looked down at the golden stains on his robes. Never enough to weaken him, never enough to kill him. He wasn’t even sure he could die.
But he could feel pain, and it was just enough to hurt.
Just enough to remind. Although, he supposed, the little sigil did that plenty well.
“I begged them to stop,” he whispered. “Pleaded for them to have mercy. They didn’t even look at me.”
Lilith’s breath shook. “Then they do not deserve your grief.”
Her voice wasn’t gentle anymore. It was steel.
“Heaven chose pride over love. They chose cruelty over mercy. They chose to make an example out of you, because they were blind to their own mistakes.”
He laughed darkly. “No, Lilith dear. They didn’t choose pride. They chose conceit. I am Pride, and I paid for it.”
Lilith smiled down at him. “They were afraid of what you have become.”
“And what is that?”
Her eyes softened, but her anger did not. “Someone who thinks for himself.”
The wind shifted. Ash circled around them, bending towards the pair.
Samael slowly pushed himself upright, blood streaking faintly down his arms where the wounds refused to close, and for a moment the pain surged.
But this time, he didn’t wince. He bore it. Not because it hurt less. Because he refused to bow beneath it.
“They wanted me broken,” he said. His voice was no longer fragile. It was cold. Measured.
“They wanted a reminder to the rest of Heaven of what happens when you question them.”
Lilith nodded.
“And instead,” she said quietly, “they created someone they can never control again.”
His gaze steadied.
His pain.
His rage.
His loss.
All of it settled into something new. Something sharper.
He lifted his chin. “I owe them nothing. They cast me aside.”
The ground trembled softly beneath his feet. “I am not their Samael anymore. Nor will I ever be again.”
He tasted the words. “After all, a demonic place needs a demonic king.”
Claimed his new title.“I will be Lucifer.”
The sky did not answer. But it felt smaller. Not so scary.
Lilith stood beside him, as an ally. He was glad to have her by his side.
“If Heaven dares to look down on you again,” she said, voice unwavering, “they will not find a fallen angel.” Her gaze burned. “They will find the Devil of their own creation.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing past the spike of pain, and when he opened them again, there was fire in them. Red pupils, yellow eyes.
Not violent. Not raging out of control. Controlled. Purposeful. And it would burn for a very, very long time.
They stayed in that crater for a very long time. Despite being able to stand, Lucifer could only walk about 60 feet before his legs gave out. Lilith was his star. She tended his wounds, helped his broken limbs heal. But the physical damage was nothing compared to the mental torment she got him through.
Once, Lilith found him staring at a rock, sharpened by the heavenly blast. He was murmuring, “Maybe..it’d be better this way. Maybe that’s what’s supposed to happen.”
Lilith took the rock away and scoured the crater of anything else sharp.
One time, a stone slab fell from the sky onto a resting Lucifer. Lilith rushed to his side, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. A few minutes later, Lucifer awoke and pushed it off him.
He looked at the slab. It was an engraving of all seven Archangels. They were trying to erase him. “Heaven just can’t let it go, can they?” He said with a grin.
Lilith stared at him in disbelief.”You were dead.”
“Was I?” he said casually. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“What do you mean, Luci?” Lilith said carefully.
A somber look fell across his face. “I died on the way down here. And again when I hit the ground. You built me back up again, piece by piece. And for that I love you.”
Lilith broke at that. Luci, of course, comforted her. They spent a lot of nights like that, roles reversing every time.
On Lucifer’s better days, they would go exploring their new domain. They found it was sparsely inhabited with imps and lesser demons.
Once, they were out exploring what they had decided to call the Pride Ring when a flying imp attacked them.
Since her fall, she had gained powers, but nothing that could defend her.
Lucifer jumped in front of her at the last second, red horns growing out of his head and a tail slipping from his suit. “Stop, in the name of your King,” he said, voice bellowing. To their surprise, the imp retreated.
“I-I didn’t know you could do that,” Lilith said warily.
Lucifer looked at his charred hands. “Neither did I.”
He turned to her with an exuberant smile. “Now, my queen, shall we return to our humble abode?”
Lilith smirked. “Your queen?”
“Well, if I’m the King of Hell, it follows that you must be Queen.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said, laughing.
They existed together, the Devil and his Queen, for half a century. Then, Sins started arriving.
Satan was the first. They were out exploring the ring that would become Wrath, when a dragon-like creature approached them. He bowed deeply. “I am Your Majesty’s Wrath, created by your hate.”
After that, the Sin moved in.
Next was Gluttony. Beelzebub appeared after they had finished a good meal, something they didn’t often get.
“Heya,” she said, floating above the table. “I’m born from your want. Gluttony was created by your satisfaction.”
After came Greed. Mammon appeared as Lucifer was counting the small treasures he had and longed for more.
“Oi,” the fat Australian Sin said. “I’m born from hunger. Hunger of possessions. Anything you covet.”
Lust came after a particularly passionate night between the King and Queen. Asmodeus was born from desire.
Next, Sloth after a particularly bad mental breakdown. Belphegor was born from Apathy.
Last of all was the two-headed Envy. Leviathan was an accident, created when there was a rare break in the clouds and Lucifer could see Heaven.
Soon, the King, Queen, and their Sins grew to be like brother and sister. Lilith even took to calling them the Seven Deadly Sins, to which Lucifer replied, “You fell too.” And so it was. Each Sin molded a ring of Hell to their own liking, and each created life. Lucifer created the Ars Goetia, Satan created the imps, Beelzebub created hellhounds, and Asmodeus created succubi. The others each created their own.
A new order was found amidst the dark, ancient rules crafted. Sinners began arriving soon after, and the Devil gladly took them under his newly regrown wings.
And so Hell was created, and it was as good as it could be.