#Frozen Out

[rainforestakiie]

hello!

this is a short AU! expect part 02 in a few hours! i have mostly gotten it fully written, i am just playing around with it a little. the idea behind this has been on my mind for a while now!

Frozen Out

Part 01 - Part 02

Everyone has a breaking point…

It just took Adam centuries to reach his.

In the dawn of creation, Eden pulsed with an ethereal beauty, a masterpiece painted by divine hands. Each blade of grass shimmered like emeralds kissed by sunlight, and the golden apples hanging from the Tree of Knowledge swayed lazily, their surfaces glinting with the secrets of the universe. The air itself carried the scent of blooming flowers, crisp water, and a whisper of something ancient, something eternal. It was paradise, perfect in every way. And yet, Adam was lonely.

Adam lay beneath the sprawling shade of the tree, his gaze fixed on the heavens. He traced the shifting clouds with his eyes, hoping one of them might shape itself into the figure he longed to see. His heart fluttered at the thought. Lucifer. His guardian Archangel, the one who had brought him into this garden and promised to watch over him. His protector, his light, his... everything.

Lucifer often visited Eden, descending from the heavens with the brilliance of a falling star. His presence filled the garden with an otherworldly glow, as though Eden itself bent to welcome him. To Adam, Lucifer was more than just a guardian; he was the embodiment of perfection—graceful, radiant, and untouchable. Adam adored him, though he could never find the courage to say so.

"Adam," Lucifer’s voice was soft yet commanding, like the first notes of a hymn. "Have you been well?"

Adam always nodded eagerly, stumbling over his words in his haste to please. He would recount his days, describing how he had explored the rivers, befriended the animals, or marveled at the endless beauty of Eden. And Lucifer would smile, a faint, fleeting curve of his lips that made Adam's chest tighten with something he could not name.

But those moments were rare. More often than not, Lucifer would leave, his duties in the heavens calling him away. "I must go," he would say, his hand brushing lightly against Adam's hair, a touch so brief it left Adam aching for more. "But I’ll return soon."

Adam clung to those words, even as he watched Lucifer's wings unfurl in a cascade of light, carrying him beyond the clouds. Each time, the garden felt a little dimmer, a little emptier. Adam would return to the apple tree, his only companion in Lucifer’s absence.

Now, as he lay beneath its branches, Adam reached out a hand toward the golden fruit, though he did not pluck it. His fingertips grazed the air just beneath the apple's smooth surface, as though by reaching for it, he could somehow grasp the knowledge Lucifer carried—the wisdom, the grace, the infinite love Adam longed to share.

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun seep into his skin. In his mind, he imagined a world where Lucifer stayed. Where they could walk together through the garden, laughing, talking, simply being. A world where Lucifer saw him not as a charge to protect, not as a creature to guide, but as an equal, as someone worthy of his love.

But reality was far less kind. Lucifer’s affection, while sweet and gentle, was distant. He patted Adam's head like one might a faithful dog, praised his obedience, and marveled at his innocence. To Adam, it felt like being both seen and unseen, loved yet overlooked.

"Do you think about me when you’re gone?" Adam whispered to the empty garden. His voice was swallowed by the rustle of leaves, a question cast into the void.

He imagined Lucifer in the heavens, surrounded by celestial choirs and the splendor of God’s light. Did he ever think of Eden? Of the one who waited for him beneath the golden tree? Or was Adam just another part of the garden—beautiful, yes, but ultimately forgettable?

Tears pricked the corners of Adam's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Crying would solve nothing. Instead, he curled into himself, resting his cheek against the soft grass. "I’ll wait," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I’ll always wait."

Time passed. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Still, Adam waited. His heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, of feelings too vast to contain. He longed to tell Lucifer, to say, “I love you.” But how could he? Love was a gift, and what did he have to offer an Archangel who already had everything?

The sound of wings broke the silence. Adam’s heart leapt, his breath hitching as he sat up. There, descending from the heavens, was Lucifer. His light bathed the garden in gold, and Adam’s chest filled with a bittersweet joy.

Lucifer landed gracefully, his expression calm and unreadable. "Adam," he said, his voice like the soft hum of a lullaby.

Adam’s smile was bright, though his eyes betrayed his longing. "You came back."

"Of course," Lucifer replied, his hand resting briefly on Adam’s shoulder. "I always do."

But even as they spoke, Adam could feel the distance between them—a chasm carved by divinity and duty, by the unbridgeable divide between mortal and celestial. He wanted to hold on to Lucifer, to beg him to stay. But he knew that love, if it was real, could not be chained.

So, Adam smiled, even as his heart broke. Because even if Lucifer could never love him in the way he wished, he would take what he could get. A touch, a word, a fleeting moment.

And as Lucifer left once more, Adam returned to his place beneath the tree, his silent companion. He gazed at the stars, wondering if somewhere beyond them, Lucifer was looking back.

But he knew the truth. Lucifer belonged to the heavens, and Adam… Adam belonged to Eden. And though his heart yearned, his love would remain unspoken—a quiet, eternal flame burning in the depths of his soul.

If only it was that easy…

Pain. Heart break. Horror. Only followed…

~#~

The first thing Adam felt was light. Not the harsh glare of the sun that he’d toiled under on Earth, nor the pale glow of the moon that had witnessed his quiet prayers at night. This was different. It was warm and all-encompassing, wrapping around him like a soft embrace. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Adam was no longer cold.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the brilliance of Heaven. The sky was not a single hue but a shifting cascade of colours—gold melting into silver, blue blooming into shades of pearl. The ground beneath him was soft, like the petals of a flower, and the air smelled of something faintly sweet, something he could only describe as home.

But his body—oh, his body ached. Soreness clung to his limbs like a shroud, and he winced as he shifted. His hands, calloused and cracked from years of toil, trembled in front of him. Scars crisscrossed his skin, pale reminders of the battles he had fought against the earth itself—ploughing rocky fields, hauling water across barren lands, building shelters to keep his family safe.

His family.

The thought of them made his chest tighten. Eve. His children. Every wound, every bruise, every moment of exhaustion had been for them. He had pushed himself to his limits and beyond to keep them fed, to shield them from the unforgiving world they had been cast into. And all of it—all of it—because of a single bite of forbidden fruit.

The weight of that mistake had pressed down on him every day since they left Eden. Adam had carried it without complaint, without faltering, because someone had to. Someone had to bear the burden. And now... now he was here.

He barely had time to process where “here” was before he saw her.

A figure stood before him, radiant and awe-inspiring. Her six wings shimmered like molten gold, each feather catching the light and scattering it in a thousand directions. Her face was soft yet commanding, her presence both overwhelming and soothing. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that—she was holy, a being of divine grace.

“Adam,” she said, her voice melodic and laced with something tender, something almost like sorrow.

The sound of his name on her lips was his undoing.

Adam crumpled to his knees, a broken sob tearing from his throat. His shoulders shook as tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, as if the floodgates of his soul had been thrown open. He wept for everything he had lost, for everything he had endured. For Eden, for his family, for the weight of years spent trying to atone for something he could never undo.

Sera—he didn’t know how he knew her name, but he did—was startled for a moment, her serene expression flickering with surprise. But then she moved toward him, closing the distance in a heartbeat. She knelt beside him, her wings folding around them both like a cocoon, shielding him from everything but her presence.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, her voice gentle as she pulled him into her arms. “It’s alright, Adam. You’re safe now.”

Adam clung to her like a child, his tears soaking into the fabric of her robes. “I tried,” he choked out, his voice raw. “I tried so hard. I did everything I could. But it was never enough. I—I lost Eden. I lost everything.”

Sera’s arms tightened around him, and she rested her cheek against his hair.

“Hush, my child,” she whispered. “You did more than enough. You gave all of yourself, and Heaven has seen your sacrifice. You are not lost. You are home.”

At her words, something stirred within him—a warmth, a light, something long buried beneath years of pain and struggle. It began as a flicker, a faint glow in his chest, but it quickly grew, spreading through his body like wildfire. Adam gasped as he felt it surge outward, his back arching as the sensation intensified.

And then it happened.

With a sound like thunder, golden wings erupted from his back. They unfurled in a blaze of light, each feather shimmering with an otherworldly brilliance. The pain of their emergence was sharp but fleeting, replaced almost instantly by a sense of overwhelming freedom. Adam let out a cry—not of anguish, but of release—as the wings stretched wide behind him, catching the light of Heaven and casting it in every direction.

Sera pulled back, her hands covering her mouth as she gazed at him in awe.

“Adam…” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Your wings. They’re… they’re glorious.”

Adam looked over his shoulder, his breath hitching as he took in the sight of them. They were unlike anything he had ever imagined, a reflection of the strength and resilience he had forged on Earth. For a moment, he was speechless, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of what he had become.

Sera reached out, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “You have done all that was asked of you,” she said softly.

“You bore the weight of your family’s survival, of your own exile, with grace and humility. And now, Adam, it is time for you to rest. You have earned your place in Heaven.”

Adam’s eyes filled with tears once more, but this time they were tears of relief. The crushing weight he had carried for so long was gone, lifted by her words and the gentle light of his new wings. He looked at Sera, his voice trembling as he asked, “Will it truly be better now?”

She smiled, a motherly warmth radiating from her. “Yes, my dear one. You are home, and you are loved. The darkness is behind you now.”

For the first time since Eden, Adam believed her. He closed his eyes, letting the light of Heaven wash over him, and for the first time in a long, long time, he allowed himself to hope.

Adam worked. He worked until his hands trembled and his wings ached. Heaven’s orders were absolute, its demands endless, and Adam gave everything he had. He gave and gave, offering up every ounce of his strength and will because that was what Sera wanted. That was what Heaven needed. And if he could not make others love him, if he could not bring back what was lost, then at least he could be useful.

“Adam,” Sera would say, her voice laced with that motherly warmth he craved so deeply. “You’re doing so well. Keep going. You’re Heaven’s pride.”

Those words should have comforted him, but instead, they weighed on him like chains. He nodded each time, his golden eyes bright with the fervour of someone desperate for approval.

"Yes, Sera," he’d say, forcing a smile. "I’ll do better. I’ll be everything Heaven needs me to be."

But inside, Adam was crumbling.

More souls arrived every day, their faces filled with awe and wonder, and Adam was there to guide them. He was there to smile, to reassure, to lift them up. His wings, once radiant and proud, sagged under the burden of expectation. The weight of his endless labour, of his duty to Heaven, was crushing him. But Adam refused to falter.

He had no one else.

Lucifer had shattered his heart and left him behind, stealing Eden—the only place where Adam had ever felt whole. Eve had betrayed his trust, her bite of the forbidden fruit unravelling the world he had tried so hard to keep perfect. And Lilith, the woman who had once stood beside him as an equal, had lied to his face, leaving him with nothing but bitterness.

No one had stayed. No one except Sera.

She was his guiding light, his only anchor in the vast expanse of Heaven. He clung to her approval like a lifeline, pouring his entire existence into pleasing her. Even as his wings burned with exhaustion, even as his body screamed for rest, Adam persevered. He would prove himself. He would be the golden boy Sera believed him to be.

But it was breaking him.

~#~

One day, after what felt like an eternity of serving, Adam found himself alone. He sat on the edge of a cloudy hedge, his golden wings sagging behind him. The feathers, once lustrous, were dull and trembling from the strain of holding themselves up for too long. They finally collapsed, spilling over the clouds like a crumpled halo. His chest rose and fell with laboured breaths, and his hands trembled as he rested them on his knees.

His mind, unrelenting and cruel, drifted back to Eden. His Eden. His home.

Adam swallowed hard, the memory of Eden gnawing at him like an old wound. The garden had been a paradise—lush, green, and perfect. A place where every moment felt eternal, where the air itself had been sweet with the promise of peace. But Lucifer had taken it from him.

Why? Adam had never understood.

"Why did you do it?" he whispered to no one, his voice breaking.

His golden eyes, now dulled with exhaustion, stared into the endless expanse of Heaven. His eyelids grew heavy, the dark circles beneath them deepening like shadows carved into his skin.

He missed Eden so much it hurt. The earth had been nothing like it. Earth was cruel, unforgiving, tearing at him with jagged claws. It had stripped him of everything—his comfort, his innocence, his sense of belonging. Even now, surrounded by the splendour of Heaven, Adam felt the ache of loss. Eden was the only place he had ever felt truly alive.

Tears pricked at his eyes, but he was too tired to cry. Instead, he rested his head in his hands, letting his thoughts swirl in an endless storm of longing and regret.

And then, it happened.

A faint warmth bloomed between his fingers, pulling Adam from his haze of despair. He lifted his head, blinking in surprise, as he felt something soft and delicate pressing against his palms. Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his hands.

There, growing from his touch, was a flower.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at it, his heart pounding in disbelief. It was a flower he hadn’t seen since Eden—a small, radiant bloom with petals that shimmered faintly in the light. His fingers trembled as he jerked back, startled, but the flower remained, swaying gently as though cradled by an invisible breeze.

For a long moment, Adam just stared. Memories of Eden surged through him, raw and bittersweet, as he reached out again. His fingers brushed the petals, and a gasp escaped his lips. The flower grew brighter, its stems stronger, its colours deeper. Two more blooms sprouted beside it, unfurling in delicate perfection.

Adam’s golden eyes widened. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he looked down at his hands. The realization came slowly, almost too heavy to bear.

This was him.

With shaking hands, Adam pressed his palms against the clouds beneath him. He closed his eyes, his thoughts a swirling tide of Eden—its beauty, its peace, its promise of love. The ache in his chest grew sharper, but he pushed through it, pouring everything he had into the memories.

When he opened his eyes, he let out a sharp breath.

Nature had begun to grow around him. Flowers, vines, and lush green grass spilled from his hands, spreading across the clouds in a radiant bloom. The air filled with the scent of Eden, that sweet, familiar fragrance that had haunted his dreams for centuries.

Adam’s breath hitched as he stared at the life flourishing beneath his touch. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, something inside him stirred—a flicker of hope, of purpose. This was new. This was powerful.

But even as he marvelled at the beauty he had created, a shadow lingered in his heart. He thought of Sera, of Heaven’s expectations, of the endless giving that had nearly destroyed him. Would this new power be a gift? Or would it be yet another burden to bear?

Adam clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. It didn’t matter. He would give everything—his strength, his heart, his very soul—if it meant he could finally belong. Even if it destroyed him.

Because that was all he had ever known how to do.

~#~

Adam had done everything. He had bent himself to the will of Heaven, poured every drop of his strength into its gardens, and sacrificed his own dreams for the sake of their commands. When they asked for beauty, he gave them flowers. When they demanded glory, he painted the skies with life. Adam had filled Heaven with blossoms, vines, and trees, his power bringing Eden to every corner of paradise.

Yet now, they turned their backs on him.

Why?

Why were they betraying him? Why were they leaving him to rot in his failure, to suffer in his disgrace? His mind reeled with questions, but no answers came. The betrayal burned through him like wildfire, threatening to consume the fragile remnants of his faith.

The memory of Lucifer’s cruel laughter rang in his ears.

It hadn’t started this way. Once, there had been Eden. Once, there had been the quiet, sun-dappled days beneath the apple tree, where Lucifer’s presence was warm and protective. Or so Adam thought. But the Eden he had clung to, the Eden he still mourned, had been torn away. Lucifer had ripped it from him, and Adam couldn’t even understand why.

But understanding hardly mattered now.

What mattered was the humiliation.

Lucifer had dragged him through the mud—literally. The archangel’s blows were unrelenting, knocking Adam to his knees before all of Heaven. Every strike, every mocking word, every sneer had landed like a blade, cutting deeper into his soul than any physical wound. And then, when Adam was at his weakest, humiliated and broken, the final insult came—a one-eyed sinner who caught him off guard, a dagger slicing through his side.

The pain was excruciating.

Adam remembered falling, his wings folding like broken glass behind him as light bled from his eyes. The agony of his death was unbearable, but the agony of being abandoned was worse.

No one came for him.

No divine hand reached down to save him from the darkness. The heavens left him to rot in Hell.

When Adam awoke, he was something else. Something unholy. His golden wings remained, though they were battered and dull, and his eyes still shimmered faintly with the light of Heaven. But his halo was gone, replaced by horns that twisted above his head. Adam stared at his reflection in the jagged surface of a Hellish pool, his chest tightening with despair.

He was a sinner now.

He was nothing.

The voice that broke the silence was sharp, mocking, and familiar.

“Well, well, well,” Lucifer purred, his crimson gaze glinting with amusement. “Look who’s come crawling back from the grave. Fallen from grace, haven’t we?”

He stepped closer, his smirk cutting like a blade. “How the mighty have fallen. Tell me, Adam—how does it feel to be one of us?”

Adam said nothing, his jaw tightening as he lowered his gaze.

“Oh, don’t look so pathetic,” Lucifer continued, his laughter echoing like thunder. “You didn’t honestly think Heaven would take you back, did you? You’re a sinner now, Adam. You don’t belong to them anymore. You’re mine.”

The words hit like a hammer, but Adam refused to react. He kept his head down, swallowing the bitterness that clawed at his throat.

Lucifer tilted his head, his expression shifting from amusement to feigned pity. “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you’re still holding out hope. That’s adorable.”

His grin widened, sharp and cruel. “But let me save you some time, pet. Sera doesn’t want you. She never did. You were just a tool, a pretty little puppet to do her bidding. And now?” He laughed, the sound dripping with venom. “Now you’re nothing but trash.”

Adam’s chest tightened, his mind flickering back to Eden despite himself. He remembered the way Lucifer used to smile at him, the warmth in his voice, the rare moments of kindness that had felt like sunlight. Or had they? Had Lucifer ever truly been kind? Or had Adam been a fool all along, misreading the disdain in those crimson eyes as something more?

Lucifer leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You were always just a pet, Adam. A pretty, obedient little thing.”

The realization struck Adam like a physical blow. He had looked up to Lucifer, adored him, loved him with a desperate, one-sided passion. But now, the truth was undeniable. He had been nothing to Lucifer. Nothing but a dog on a leash.

Lucifer’s laughter broke through his thoughts, loud and biting. “Don’t worry,” he sneered, stepping back and gesturing toward the red building at the centre of Pentagram City. “I’ll take you to the Emberley—our charming little meeting point between Heaven and Hell. After that, though, you’re on your own. Sera won’t let a sinner like you back in. You’re done.”

Adam said nothing. He followed Lucifer in silence, his wings dragging behind him, the weight of humiliation and heartbreak pressing down on his shoulders. The streets of Pentagram City were filled with jeering sinners, their sneers and laughter cutting into him like shards of glass. But Adam barely noticed. He was too numb to care.

Lucifer glanced back at him, a cruel smile curling his lips. “You’ve really let yourself go, haven’t you? No wonder you couldn’t keep a wife. Not that I blame her.”

The words were meant to hurt, but Adam didn’t flinch. He kept his gaze fixed on the Emberley’s doors, the only thing that stood between him and whatever awaited inside.

Lucifer followed his gaze, his smirk widening. “Good luck in there,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’ll need it. And just so you know—when you come out, you better get running. No one here is going to be kind enough to give you a head start.” He laughed harshly, the sound grating against Adam’s ears.

Adam’s hand trembled as he reached for the door.

Before he could open it, Lucifer’s clawed hand clamped down on his forearm, the searing heat of his touch making Adam wince. Lucifer leaned in close, his sharp-toothed grin gleaming in the dim light.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he purred, his voice low and taunting. “If you want to save your pathetic little life, if you really want my help…”

He paused, savouring the moment. “I’ll give it to you. In exchange for your soul, of course.”

Adam’s breath hitched, but he said nothing. He stared at Lucifer, his face unreadable, as the archangel chuckled darkly.

“Think about it,” Lucifer said, stepping back and gesturing toward the door. “Go on, pet. Your destiny awaits.”

Without another word, Adam turned the handle and stepped inside, his heart heavy with despair. Behind him, Lucifer’s laughter echoed like a cruel song, the sound following him into the darkness.

Adam’s steps faltered as the doors to the Emberley closed behind him, sealing him into the dim, suffocating space that seemed to hover on the edge of worlds. A strange, otherworldly hum filled the air, pressing against his skin like static. The golden light he had once associated with Heaven was faint here, weak and struggling against the blood-red glow that seeped in from Hell.

At the far end of the chamber stood Sera.

Adam’s breath caught at the sight of her. She was as radiant as ever, her six wings shimmering with divine brilliance. But there was no warmth in her presence now, no trace of the maternal kindness that had once cradled him in his darkest moments. Her expression was cold, her eyes piercing and unrelenting as they raked over him.

Adam felt his heart sink further, the weight of her gaze unbearable. He wanted to speak, to explain, but the words died in his throat. He didn’t know what to say.

Sera took a single step forward, the sound of her heel echoing sharply in the stillness. Her wings shifted behind her, their feathers gleaming like blades. When she spoke, her voice was sharp, devoid of the gentle cadence he had clung to in the past.

“Adam.”

The way she said his name made him flinch. It wasn’t the way she used to say it—soft and full of quiet pride. Now it was cold, distant, almost like an accusation.

“You’ve disgraced yourself,” she said, her tone cutting. “Look at you.”

Adam hesitated, his hands twitching at his sides. “I… I didn’t choose this,” he said softly, his voice trembling.

“No,” she snapped, her wings flaring slightly. “You chose to fail. You chose to fall.”

Her words struck like a whip, and Adam recoiled. He wanted to protest, to remind her of everything he had done for Heaven, everything he had sacrificed, but her gaze silenced him.

“You’re a sinner now,” Sera continued, her voice unyielding. “A creature of filth and corruption. Do you honestly think you can return to Heaven like this?”

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Adam stammered, his golden eyes filling with tears. “I tried, Sera. I did everything you asked. I gave everything I had—”

“And yet, it wasn’t enough,” she interrupted, her voice as sharp as glass.

“You failed. And now you wear the mark of your failure for all to see.” Her gaze flicked to the horns curling from his head, her lip curling in disgust.

Adam’s wings trembled, the once-glorious golden feathers sagging under the weight of her disdain. He felt the tears spill over, streaking his face as he fell to his knees before her.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please, Sera. I’ll do anything. Just… let me come back. Let me prove myself again. I’ll work harder, I’ll—”

“No.”

The single word cut through him like a blade.

“There is no place for you in Heaven,” Sera said coldly. “You have fallen, Adam. You are no longer one of us.”

Her words crushed him, the weight of them stealing the breath from his lungs. He stared up at her, his vision blurred by tears.

“You said… you said I was your son,” he whispered. “You said you loved me.”

Sera’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, her disdain deepened.

 “I loved the Adam who was pure,” she said. “The Adam who obeyed. The Adam who belonged to Heaven. That Adam is gone.”

Adam’s chest heaved as a sob tore from him, raw and broken. He clutched at the hem of her glowing robe, desperate, pleading. “Please, Sera. I don’t have anyone else. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

She stepped back, pulling her robe from his grasp. “You made your choices, Adam. Now you must live with the consequences.”

Her words were final, her tone merciless.

Adam’s hands fell to his sides, trembling. He lowered his head, his tears dripping onto the cold, unyielding floor. The golden light that had once flickered in his chest felt dim now, as though it would extinguish entirely.

Sera turned away, her wings folding gracefully behind her.

“You will leave this place,” she said, her voice echoing through the chamber. “Do not return. You are no longer welcome.”

As she began to walk away, Adam reached out one last time, his voice barely a whisper. “Sera… please…”

She didn’t look back.

The sound of her footsteps faded, leaving Adam alone in the dim chamber. His sobs echoed around him, raw and desperate, but there was no one to hear them. No one to comfort him.

He was nothing now.

A sinner.

A failure.

As the last traces of Sera’s light vanished, Adam knelt in the darkness, his wings trembling and his heart shattered. The thought of Eden, of what he had lost, flickered weakly in his mind. But even that memory felt tainted now, distant and unreachable.

For the first time, Adam truly understood what it meant to be alone.

~#~

The door groaned as Adam pushed it open, stepping out into the suffocating, sulfureous air of Hell’s streets. The eerie red glow of the Emberley behind him cast long shadows on the cracked ground. For a fleeting moment, he dared to hope that maybe—just maybe—he could walk away unscathed. But then he saw them.

The sinners.

They were waiting.

Their twisted forms lurked in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with malice. Adam froze, his wings trembling behind him. He recognized some of them—souls he had been forced to slaughter in the name of Heaven, their faces twisted now with a hatred that seemed to pulse in the air around him.

“There he is,” one of them hissed, stepping forward with a jagged grin.

“The First Man,” another sneered. “Heaven’s golden boy turned to trash.”

Laughter erupted around him, sharp and cruel.

Adam stumbled back, his body already weary and broken, his golden wings sagging. The sinners closed in, their voices growing louder, more taunting.

“Pig.”

“Failure.”

“Couldn’t even keep a women.”

The words sliced through him, each one sharper than the last. Before he could react, one of them shoved him hard, and he fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Let’s see how much gold is left in those wings,” one snarled, grabbing a handful of his feathers and yanking.

Adam cried out as the sharp pain shot through him. They laughed louder, their hands tearing at his wings, ripping feathers out in clumps. The golden light that once shimmered in them dimmed as they shredded his dignity piece by piece.

"Look at him," one jeered. "The mighty Adam, grovelling in the dirt where he belongs."

Adam tried to stand, but they pushed him down again. His knees hit the ground, his body shaking. His mind screamed at him to run, to fight back, but he didn’t have the strength. He was too tired, too broken.

And then he saw him.

Lucifer.

The King of Hell lounged lazily against a jagged rock, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he watched the scene unfold. His smirk was slow and smug, a cruel twist of his lips that sent a chill through Adam’s battered frame.

Adam’s breath hitched. He knew what this was. Lucifer had told him, warned him, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it.

Lucifer was waiting.

Waiting for him to break.

“Help me,” Adam rasped, his voice weak, barely audible over the sinners’ taunts.

Lucifer’s smirk widened.

“Help you?” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “Oh, Adam. Why would I do that?”

Adam flinched as another sinner kicked him in the ribs, sending him sprawling. He looked up at Lucifer, his golden eyes swimming with desperation.

“Please,” he whispered. “You said… you said you’d help me.”

Lucifer tilted his head, his grin turning sharp. “I said I’d help you in exchange for your soul. Did you think charity was one of my virtues?”

The sinners laughed, their jeers growing louder. Adam’s hands clenched into fists against the dirt, his chest heaving. He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to give Lucifer the satisfaction.

But he couldn’t take this anymore.

“Say it,” Lucifer purred, his voice a low, mocking croon. “Beg me. Prove to me how low you’re willing to go, Adam.”

Adam’s lips trembled. His pride, what little was left of it, screamed at him to hold on, to fight. But his body—bruised, battered, humiliated—couldn’t endure it anymore.

He fell forward, his forehead pressing into the dirt as tears streamed down his face. His voice was barely a whisper, choked with despair.

“Please… Lucifer. I… I give you my soul.”

The sinners froze, their laughter dying in the air. A heavy, suffocating silence fell over them.

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with triumph.

“Oh, Adam,” he murmured, his grin splitting wider. “Say it again. Louder this time.”

Adam’s shoulders shook as he forced the words out.

“I give you my soul,” he repeated, his voice breaking.

Lucifer’s laughter echoed through the space, cruel and victorious. He stepped forward, his black boots crunching against the dirt until he stood over Adam’s trembling form.

A golden collar materialized around Adam’s neck, glowing faintly before solidifying with an ominous snap. A heavy chain extended from it, leading up to Lucifer’s outstretched clawed hand.

Lucifer yanked the chain, forcing Adam to lift his head. The fallen man’s golden eyes were dull now, lifeless.

Lucifer’s grin was wicked as he pressed his boot onto the back of Adam’s head, shoving him back into the dirt. “I own you now,” he said, his voice laced with smug satisfaction.

He leaned down, his sharp teeth gleaming as he whispered into Adam’s ear. “You’re mine, body and soul. A dog on my leash. A pet.”

The chain rattled as Lucifer pulled it taut, laughing as Adam remained motionless beneath his boot.

“Welcome to Hell, Adam,” Lucifer said, his tone dripping with mockery. “You’ll find it quite… accommodating.”

And as his laughter echoed, Adam closed his eyes, the last remnants of his hope shattering like glass.

~#~

The mansion was deathly quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed down on Adam’s chest and made his breathing feel shallow, uneven. Lucifer had left hours ago, his departure marked by a cruelly cheery announcement of his plans to visit his “precious little darling.” His voice still echoed in Adam’s head, mocking and sharp.

“I’d bring you along,” Lucifer had said, his grin wide and wicked, “but I think we both remember how well that went last time. Wouldn’t want another little incident with dear Maggie, now would we?”

‘Vaggie’ he would have said…

Adam had flinched at the memory. The cold rage in her eyes. The sharpness of her blade as it sliced too close.

And now, he was alone again.

The grand halls of Lucifer’s mansion, with their dark, gothic splendor, swallowed him whole. It was too large, too empty, and too suffocating all at once. Adam sat curled in a corner of one of the vast, echoing rooms. He pulled his knees to his chest, his golden wings drooping behind him.

Except… they weren’t quite golden anymore.

The once radiant feathers had dulled, the sheen long gone. They looked almost… tarnished. Adam tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about the way his own reflection in the polished floors didn’t quite look like him anymore.

His trembling hands hovered over the cold, flat patch of marble in front of him. There was no soil, no dirt, but there had never been a need for that before. Once, he could summon life itself from nothingness. In Eden, his hands had been a force of creation. Flowers, trees, lush green growth—they bloomed effortlessly at his touch.

He closed his eyes and focused. He could still feel the memory of it, the warmth that used to radiate from his palms, the way the ground would respond to him as though it loved him.

Adam’s breath hitched as he poured all of himself into the attempt. His fingers trembled, his body aching, but he didn’t stop.

Nothing.

The marble was cold and lifeless beneath his hands.

“Come on,” he whispered, his voice shaking. His golden eyes, dimmed and hollow, filled with desperation as he tried again.

Nothing.

“Please,” he choked out, his hands pressing harder against the ground. His tears began to fall, splashing onto the marble, but he didn’t care.

Still nothing.

Adam’s breath came in shallow gasps as his composure cracked, his chest tightening with the weight of failure. His whole body shook as he tried one more time, pouring every ounce of energy, every last scrap of hope he had left into the act.

Nothing.

His hands fell limp to his sides, his head bowing as a sob tore through him. The sound echoed in the empty room, raw and broken.

“I can’t… I can’t even grow a daisy,” he whispered, his voice cracking as more tears streamed down his face.

His shoulders shook as he curled into himself, his sobs coming harder and louder. It was too much. All of it. The humiliation, the pain, the loss. He had given up everything—everything—and this was all that was left. He couldn’t even find comfort in the one thing that had always brought him peace.

As the despair consumed him, his tanned skin began to change. It grew ashen, a sickly grey spreading across his body. The glow of his once-golden eyes dimmed further, flickering like a dying flame. Even the tips of his fingers, the hands that had once brought Eden to life, began to bruise, the vibrant warmth of creation replaced by cold, lifeless decay.

Adam buried his face in his hands, his muffled cries filling the room. He was breaking. The cracks in his spirit, the ones Lucifer had so carefully cultivated, finally split him open.

And still, no one came.

~#~

The mansion was silent, uncaring. The world around him had abandoned him, just as Heaven had, just as everyone had. Adam was alone. Utterly and completely alone.

And as his sobs echoed into the emptiness, he wondered if this was all he was destined to be now: a hollow, broken remnant of the man he once was.

The sound of crashing doors shattered the suffocating silence of Lucifer’s mansion. Adam, curled up in his corner, startled at the noise. His ashen skin, bruised fingertips, and dim eyes reflected the exhaustion in his soul. But his head lifted weakly as he heard a voice—bright, insistent, and filled with conviction.

“Enough, Dad! Enough hiding him away like this!”

It was Charlie.

She stormed into the room, her golden hair ablaze with determination, her fiery resolve lighting up the otherwise cold, oppressive halls. Behind her, Vaggie followed, clearly displeased, her sharp gaze darting to Adam and then back to Charlie. Lucifer appeared moments later, his expression an infuriating blend of amusement and exasperation.

“Charlie, my darling,” Lucifer drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “To what do I owe this… dramatic intrusion?”

Charlie ignored him, her bright crimson eyes landing on Adam. Her heart broke at the sight of him—this hunched, trembling man who seemed to be shrinking under her gaze. He looked nothing like the figure she had imagined, nothing like the stories she’d heard of the first man.

“Adam deserves a second chance,” she said firmly, turning to face her father.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Oh, does he now? And what exactly makes you think he’s worth it, my sweet girl?”

“Because I can’t claim to believe in redemption for sinners if I can’t even help the one person who’s already given up everything!” Charlie’s voice cracked, but her resolve didn’t waver. “He’s suffering, Dad. You’re letting him rot here, and for what? To make a point? To punish him?”

Lucifer chuckled darkly. “Punishment builds character.”

“Enough!” she shouted, surprising even herself. “He’s coming to the hotel. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll help him.”

“Charlie, no,” Vaggie interjected, stepping in front of her. “This is a terrible idea. He’s not like the others. He doesn’t belong there.”

“Exactly!” Lucifer chimed in, his grin widening. “Listen to your girlfriend, my dear. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

But Charlie wouldn’t budge. “How can I ask the sinners of Hell to trust me, to believe in redemption, if I turn my back on someone who needs it the most? Someone who’s already lost everything?”

The argument stretched on, voices rising and emotions flaring. Adam sat silently through it all, his head bowed, his hands limp in his lap. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare hope.

Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, Lucifer threw his hands in the air. “Fine! Take him. But don’t come crying to me when this all blows up in your face.”

Vaggie glared at him but reluctantly grabbed Charlie’s arm, pulling her toward the door. “This is a mistake,” she muttered, her frustration palpable.

As they left, Lucifer’s jovial mask dropped. He crossed the room in a flash, his sharp claws digging into Adam’s arm as he hauled him to his feet.

“Listen closely,” Lucifer hissed, his voice low and venomous. “Charlotte sees something in you. Something good, apparently. She’s willing to give you a second chance. But if you screw this up, if you fail her, I will make your afterlife so much worse.”

Adam nodded mutely, his throat too tight to speak.

At first, Adam thought things might get better. Charlie greeted him warmly, trying her best to make him feel welcome. But the others weren’t so kind.

Husk, the bartender, sneered at him over the counter, his gravelly voice laced with disdain. “So, you’re the infamous Adam, huh? First man, biggest failure. Fitting.”

His words cut deep, wrapped in riddles that danced around outright cruelty but still hit their mark.

Angel Dust was worse, his jabs sharp and relentless. “What’s the matter, Goldilocks? Can’t hack it in Heaven, can’t hack it in Hell? Guess you’re just useless everywhere.” He laughed, his high-pitched cackle echoing in Adam’s ears.

Niffty, with her manic energy, would chase him through the halls with a knife, giggling as though it were all a game. “Come on, Mr. Perfect! Let’s see if you bleed gold!”

Cherri Bomb acted like the mean girl Adam had never encountered but somehow felt all too familiar. She whispered behind his back, her laughter ringing out with Angel Dust’s as she made snide comments.

And then there was Alastor, the Radio Demon. He didn’t need to say much; his presence alone was oppressive. But when he did speak, his words were cruelly calculated to strip Adam of what little dignity he had left.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” he’d say, his grin sharp and sinister. “You’re a relic, a failure. A hollow shell of what you once were.”

Even Vaggie couldn’t hide her disdain, her glares cutting through him like knives.

Adam tried to find solace in the quiet moments, tried to use his ability to grow things. But no matter how hard he focused, nothing came. The dark bruises on his fingers spread further up his hands with each failed attempt. His once-bright golden wings grew duller, the light in his eyes fading into a murky haze.

He was crumbling, piece by piece.

~#~

One evening, after watching Adam retreat to his room for the third time that day, Charlie pulled Lucifer aside.

“Dad, what’s wrong with him?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed?” she pressed. “He’s different. His skin, his wings, his eyes—they’re all fading. He’s… he’s breaking, Dad.”

Lucifer frowned, his smirk faltering. He hadn’t noticed. Not really. He thought back but couldn’t recall when the change had started.

“Do you think I did something to him?” he asked, half-joking but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

Charlie’s frustration boiled over. “Maybe you should stop tormenting him for five minutes and actually look at him! He’s barely holding on.”

Lucifer waved her off, but the seed of doubt had been planted.

Later that night, Charlie gathered everyone in the main lounge.

“This stops now,” she said firmly, her voice carrying an authority they rarely heard from her. “The bullying, the mocking—all of it. Adam deserves better.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Adam, hiding in the shadows, didn’t dare hope that things might change. Not anymore.

The silence that followed Charlie’s declaration was thick and uneasy. For a brief moment, Adam thought perhaps the tide would turn, that the words of the princess of Hell might carry enough weight to protect him. But then came the pushback.

Angel Dust was the first to scoff, leaning back lazily on the couch, his legs draped over the armrest.

“Oh, come on, Charlie. You really wanna waste your time defending that?” He gestured toward Adam with a dramatic flourish. “Dude’s a total wet blanket. Can’t even take a joke.”

“Yeah,” Cherri Bomb chimed in, her tone dripping with derision. “It’s not our fault he’s such a buzzkill. He just… doesn’t belong here, Charlie. You’re trying to shove a square peg into a round hole.” She snickered, elbowing Angel, who laughed along with her.

Vaggie crossed her arms, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Charlie, you’re not seeing this clearly. He’s a liability. He doesn’t fit into this place, and he’s dragging everyone down. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment again.”

Niffty piped up, her voice sickeningly sweet but her words laced with venom. “Maybe he’d be happier somewhere else, princess. Somewhere far away.”

She giggled, the sound sending a shiver down Adam’s spine.

Husk grumbled from behind the bar, not even bothering to look up. “Kid’s not cut out for Hell. Or Heaven, apparently. Maybe he should just… I dunno, disappear.”

His words stung, their nonchalant delivery only making them more painful.

Even Alastor, who usually revelled in chaos, seemed unimpressed. His ever-present grin widened, but his tone was icy.

“Charlie, my dear, you’re fighting a losing battle. Redemption is your dream, yes? But some souls are simply too far gone.” He glanced at Adam with thinly veiled disdain. “This one is... cracked beyond repair.”

Charlie’s face fell as her friends, one by one, dismissed her plea. Her gaze turned to Lucifer, her last hope for backup.

“Dad?” she asked, her voice soft but pleading. “A little help here?”

Lucifer, lounging lazily in the corner with a glass of wine in hand, shrugged helplessly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, darling, but you know how stubborn they can be. And, well…” He gestured vaguely toward Adam. “They’re not entirely wrong.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling over. She puffed out her chest, straightened her shoulders, and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice carried the kind of authority that made the room fall silent.

“I don’t care what any of you think,” she began, her crimson eyes blazing with resolve. “Adam has been through Hell—literally—and he’s still standing. He’s still trying. Do you have any idea how hard that is? After everything he’s lost, everything he’s been through, he hasn’t given up. That’s more than I can say for most of you!”

The room bristled at her words, but Charlie pressed on. “Angel, you came here because you wanted more than to just be some toy for people to use and discard. Cherri, you came here because you wanted to prove you were more than just destruction. Husk, you’re here because you’re tired of drowning your pain in booze. Vaggie, you’re here because you believe in me, in what we’re trying to do. And Alastor…”

She hesitated but forced herself to look him in the eye. “Even you came here because a part of you wanted to see if redemption was possible.”

Her gaze swept the room, daring anyone to interrupt. “How can we call ourselves a place of second chances if we’re not willing to give him one? How can I stand here and say I believe in redemption if I turn my back on someone who needs it the most?”

The silence that followed was deafening. For a moment, it seemed like her words might have reached them. But then Vaggie shook her head, her expression hard.

“It’s not the same, Charlie. Adam’s not like us. He’s not one of us. He doesn’t belong here.”

Charlie’s heart sank, but she refused to back down. “He’s not one of you because none of you are giving him a chance to be. He’s trying, but you’re all too busy tearing him down to see it.”

Adam, huddled in the shadows, felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity: hope. But it was fragile, delicate, and he couldn’t bring himself to believe it would last.

Lucifer watched the scene unfold with mild amusement, swirling his wine in his glass.

“Well, Charlie,” he drawled, “if you’re so determined to play saviour, I won’t stop you. But don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

Charlie ignored him, her focus entirely on her friends. “This is my hotel, and I’m telling you all right now: the bullying stops. Adam is one of us now, whether you like it or not. And if you can’t accept that, then maybe you’re the ones who don’t belong here.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. One by one, the others looked away, grumbling but offering no further resistance. Charlie turned to Adam, her expression softening as she extended a hand toward him.

“Come on, Adam,” she said gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Adam hesitated, his dimmed golden eyes searching hers for any sign of deceit. But all he saw was sincerity, and for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to hope.

As he reached for her hand, Lucifer chuckled softly from the corner, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s see how long this lasts.”

~#~

Everyone was trying. Really trying. Adam could feel it. Husk would make small talk with him, Angel Dust would occasionally flash him a grin, and Niffty would clean around him with an overly bright smile. They were trying so hard to be nice to him, but Adam could tell it was all for Charlie’s sake. There was an air of forced politeness, a tightness in their voices and movements that Adam couldn’t ignore. It all felt... fake. Like the way a person tries to smile when they don’t really want to. He saw their relationships—the way Husk and Angel Dust seemed inseparable, the way Niffty gazed at Alastor with starstruck adoration, the way Alastor himself only seemed to genuinely smile when Niffty was near. And Charlie was the only person who could make Vaggie’s lips curl upward in a rare, hesitant smile.

But Adam saw through it all. They weren’t doing it because they wanted to. They were doing it because Charlie asked them to. Adam couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. It reminded him of the angels back in Heaven, how they’d always been kind to him, but only because it was expected of them. They never really cared.

And then, Adam thought of Lucifer. Eden. The way Lucifer had never really liked him, not the way Adam had wanted, the way he had convinced himself he could be loved. It hurt. The realization stabbed at him, deep and brutal. Lucifer never cared. He had been just as fake as the others. And that... hurt the most. Adam’s hands trembled as he realized, more clearly than ever before, that he had wished for something that had never been there. A lie he had told himself in Eden, that he could be loved. A part of him still wished for it—just one person, anyone, to truly like him.

Adam pulled his knees to his chest, huddling in a corner of the empty hotel. He clenched his fists, forcing all his energy into his hands. If he could just make something—anything—grow, maybe he’d feel better. A flower. Just one. But nothing happened. Nothing at all. His shoulders slumped as the weight of failure pressed down on him. He closed his eyes, feeling the coldness seep deeper into his bones.

 What was the point?

A voice broke the silence, cutting through his thoughts.

“What are you doing?” it asked, low and unexpectedly curious.

Adam jerked in surprise, his heart leaping as he quickly looked up. Lucifer was standing there, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes fixed on him. There was no cruel smirk, no mocking stare—just genuine curiosity in those fiery eyes. Adam’s breath hitched as Lucifer crouched beside him, inspecting the ground with a frown.

“If you're damaging Charlie's hotel,” Lucifer added, raising an eyebrow, “I won’t be happy.”

Adam swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I’m not,” he muttered, voice small. “I wasn’t—”

Lucifer’s eyes stayed on him, his expression still soft. “Then what are you doing?”

Adam hesitated, his gaze falling back to the empty space in front of him. “I... I was trying to grow a daisy,” he said quietly, the words feeling hollow and stupid as they left his mouth.

Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

Adam sighed deeply, the weight of everything pressing in on him. His wings fluttered weakly behind him, their gold dimming, almost silver in the fading light.

“Back when I was in Heaven... I could grow things,” he explained, his voice breaking just slightly. “Things from Eden... and they always made me feel better…when I was sad I mean. Like... like I was still part of it, you know?”

Lucifer didn’t speak for a moment, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Adam glanced up, catching a flicker of something soft in Lucifer’s gaze—something almost... tender. Adam flushed, suddenly embarrassed by his vulnerability.

“If you're just gonna make fun of me, just do it already.”

Lucifer opened his mouth, but instead of ridicule, he closed it again, shaking his head slowly.

“I’m not going to make fun of you,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’m just... surprised.”

Adam’s face twisted with confusion. “Why? Because I’m not worthy enough for nature to like me either?”

Lucifer looked taken aback, his gaze softening. “What? No. That’s not what I mean at all.”

He hesitated, then sighed, a deep, almost nostalgic sound. “Look, Adam... I get it. Okay? I miss Eden too.”

Adam blinked, surprised by the admission. Lucifer, of all people, missing Eden? “You do?”

Lucifer nodded, his eyes briefly distant as if remembering something painful. “Every day. I still dream about it sometimes. The way the trees... the way everything felt. Alive. Like nothing could touch it.” He glanced at Adam again, his voice quieter now. “I never could make things grow like you could. I used to try... but it didn’t work for me. I was always just a little... too far gone.”

Adam’s heart gave a painful lurch. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Lucifer—King of Hell, the fallen angel who had ruled over so many—admitting he missed Eden, admitting that he couldn’t do what Adam could? It was a side of Lucifer Adam had never seen, and it left him at a loss for words.

Lucifer’s eyes softened, and there was a quiet, almost hesitant energy between them. “Look, Adam...”

Lucifer trailed off, his voice laced with something close to sincerity. “I’m sorry for all of it. The way things have gone... it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Adam looked up at him, still processing his words. “You... you really miss it?”

Lucifer’s expression tightened for a brief second, but it quickly relaxed as he gave a small, wry smile. “Yeah. I miss it. A lot.”

Adam blinked, his tired eyes fixed on Lucifer as the King of Hell rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, exposing his pale arm adorned with faint scars and tattoos that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. Lucifer smirked faintly, though it lacked his usual malice. There was an unusual softness in his expression, almost a flicker of nostalgia that Adam hadn’t seen before.

“Watch this,” Lucifer said, his voice low but not unkind.

His sharp claws extended, and with a graceful motion, he dragged them through the air above the ground. Gold light sparked and swirled from his fingertips, pooling into the floor like liquid sunlight. The energy pulsed, then shimmered before something began to rise from the cracks in the floorboards.

At first, Adam’s heart jumped. The glow was reminiscent of Eden—golden vines, delicate petals, and the pure vitality of the paradise he’d once known. But as the plants fully emerged, his expression twisted into a mix of awe and horror.

The flowers were... wrong. They had teeth—sharp, jagged ones that snapped aggressively. Their petals curled in unnatural spirals, and their vines writhed like snakes. One particularly bold flower lunged forward, its snapping maw aimed directly at Adam’s face.

Adam yelped, stumbling backward just as Lucifer’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder and yanking him out of the way.

“Whoa, careful!” Lucifer exclaimed, his grin spreading as he moved a clawed hand to restrain the offending plant. The flower hissed—actually hissed—before retreating, sulking back into the ground.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Then, unexpectedly, Lucifer started to laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh that echoed through the quiet hallway. It wasn’t mocking or cruel; it was warm, almost boyish in its condor. Adam stared at him, wide-eyed, before a reluctant chuckle escaped his lips. Soon, the two of them were laughing together, the absurdity of the situation washing over them like a tide.

“Well, that’s new,” Adam muttered, brushing himself off as his laughter died down into soft chuckles.

Lucifer’s smirk lingered, but there was something different about it now—something less guarded.

“Yeah, not exactly Eden, huh?” he said, gesturing at the chaotic plants that were slowly retreating back into the floor. “It’s... a work in progress.”

Adam hesitated, still processing what he’d seen.

“Wait,” he said quietly, looking at Lucifer with an unreadable expression. “You mean to tell me... you’ve been trying to grow things, too?”

Lucifer glanced at him, the sharpness in his gaze softening ever so slightly.

“Of course I have,” he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. “Do you think I’ve forgotten what Eden felt like? The smell of the air, the way the sunlight filtered through the trees? The way it... made you feel alive, like you belonged?”

His voice faltered, just for a moment, before he continued. “I dream about it sometimes. About being there again.”

Adam blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that level of vulnerability from Lucifer. “You miss it,” he said softly, more to himself than to Lucifer.

Lucifer chuckled dryly, his gaze distant. “Miss it? Adam, I ache for it. Every damn day. I don’t care how many eons pass—I’ll never stop craving what I lost.”

He glanced down at his clawed hand, flexing his fingers. “But Eden doesn’t want me anymore. I can try to grow things, but... well, you saw the results.”

Adam’s brow furrowed as he watched Lucifer, his own sense of loneliness momentarily overshadowed by an odd sense of understanding. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, his voice quiet but sincere. “I thought... you were just okay with all of this. That you didn’t care.”

Lucifer snorted, a hint of his usual arrogance creeping back into his expression. “Oh, I care. But caring doesn’t change the fact that I’ll never step foot in Eden again.”

He tilted his head, studying Adam. “What about you? Do you still dream about it?”

Adam swallowed hard, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Every night…I used to take comfort in it. Growing things, I mean. It made me feel... closer to it. Like I hadn’t lost everything.”

He looked down, his voice trembling slightly. “But now... I can’t even do that anymore…”

Lucifer’s gaze lingered on Adam, and for once, there was no mockery in his eyes—just something akin to understanding. He reached out, placing a clawed hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“You’re not the only one,” he said softly, his tone carrying a weight that Adam hadn’t heard before.

Adam looked up at him, startled by the sincerity in his voice. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a small flicker of warmth—like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t completely alone.

Lucifer smirked again, though it was softer this time.

“Don’t get used to this,” he teased, his tone light. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

Adam chuckled weakly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they sat there, the tension between them seemed to ease, if only for a moment. For the first time, Adam felt like he wasn’t just a pawn in someone else’s game. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

~#~

As the days turned into weeks, the small moments between Adam and Lucifer began to feel like something more, something real. Adam had always known that Lucifer was dangerous, unpredictable, and cruel. But lately, Lucifer’s presence seemed to carry a different weight. A weight that wasn’t just about power or dominance, but something deeper, something more complex. It was as if, little by little, Lucifer was thawing—letting himself soften around Adam in ways he hadn’t with anyone in centuries.

Adam could feel it, too. Though he was still struggling to grow anything, despite his best efforts, there was a shift inside him. He no longer felt as desperate. Instead of the crushing disappointment he would have felt before, when his powers refused to work, there was a quiet acceptance. A sort of understanding that maybe the things that had once come so easily to him were no longer in his grasp—but that didn’t mean he was without value. Not anymore. And that was something he had Lucifer to thank for.

One evening, after another failed attempt at coaxing life from the barren earth beneath him, Adam slumped to the ground in frustration. His hands were covered in dirt, his wings drooping heavily behind him. He had been trying to grow a single flower—just one—but it seemed as though the magic that had once flowed through him so easily was slipping further away each day. He was just about to give up when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye.

A small yellow rubber duck sat in the dirt, perfectly positioned in his line of sight.

Adam blinked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. He hadn’t seen it before—hadn’t noticed it anywhere nearby. But there it was, so innocently placed, as if it had appeared just for him. His first instinct was to laugh, a soft, bewildered chuckle escaping his lips. It was such a random, out-of-place object to find in the midst of his failure. But somehow, it didn’t seem out of place at all. It felt... comforting. Like it was meant to be there.

Before he could contemplate the oddity too much, he heard a voice, low and teasing.

“What’s this? A rubber duck in a garden of death?” Lucifer’s voice carried a hint of amusement, but there was something else beneath it. Curiosity, maybe.

Adam looked up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I... I don’t know. It just appeared, like magic.”

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands as if it might somehow hold the answers he was searching for.

Lucifer crouched down beside him, his golden eyes gleaming in the dimming light of the evening. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from Adam’s forehead—a surprisingly gentle gesture.

“Seems like someone has a little sense of humor,” Lucifer mused, his voice softer than Adam was used to hearing. He was staring at the duck with an odd fondness, almost as though it reminded him of something—or someone—long ago.

“You’ve been trying to grow things, haven’t you?” he asked, his tone more careful than usual.

Adam nodded, his fingers tightening around the rubber duck. He didn’t want to admit how much it had been weighing on him lately—not just the inability to use his powers, but the ache of knowing that something so fundamental to who he was seemed lost to him now.

���I’ve been trying,” Adam said quietly. “But... nothing works. It’s like I’ve forgotten how.”

Lucifer’s expression shifted. He tilted his head, watching Adam with a quiet intensity. “You haven’t forgotten, Adam. Sometimes, things just take longer than we want them to.” He paused for a moment, considering. “Maybe you’re not meant to grow flowers right now. Maybe... maybe you’re meant to grow something else.”

Adam didn’t answer right away. The words lingered, reverberating in his mind. He hadn’t considered that—hadn’t thought that maybe this struggle was part of something bigger than just his powers. Maybe it was something about him, about his journey, that he hadn’t yet understood.

But instead of letting his mind spiral into doubt and frustration, Adam found himself simply appreciating the moment. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t completely alone. The duck, the conversation—everything about it felt... small, but important.

Lucifer, noticing the shift in Adam’s demeanor, smiled faintly. It wasn’t a mocking smile, but something more real, something softer than Adam had ever expected from the King of Hell.

“I know it’s not easy,” Lucifer said, his voice quiet now, almost tender. “You think you’re the only one who’s lost something? That you’re the only one who’s struggling?” He paused. “I miss Eden, too. I miss what I used to be. But we’re here now. And... maybe that’s enough.”

Adam glanced at Lucifer, surprise flickering in his eyes. For a moment, their gazes locked, and Adam saw something in Lucifer’s eyes—a kind of sadness, a rawness that mirrored his own. It was fleeting, but it was there. And in that moment, Adam realized just how much they had in common. How much they both carried, how much they both missed.

“Maybe,” Adam murmured, his voice soft. “Maybe we’re both just trying to figure out how to be... okay.”

Lucifer didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his tone was uncharacteristically warm. “Maybe you’re right.”

They sat there for a while, neither of them speaking. Lucifer leaned against the tree, and Adam cradled the rubber duck in his hands, staring at it like it held the key to something he couldn’t yet understand. It was a small, silly thing—but to Adam, it felt like a symbol of hope.

As the silence stretched on, Lucifer shifted, his wings rustling slightly as he stood up. He offered a hand to Adam, who took it after a moment, letting Lucifer help him to his feet. It wasn’t the sharp, commanding gesture Adam had expected. Instead, it was gentle, steady.

“You’re doing alright,” Lucifer said, his voice quieter than usual. “Better than I thought you would.”

Adam met his gaze, surprise and something else—something warmer—flickering inside him. For a moment, he wasn’t the fallen angel. He wasn’t the broken soul who had failed. He was just Adam. And in that moment, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as alone as he had thought.

Lucifer gave him a small, genuine smile—nothing grand, but it felt like a small victory. Adam smiled back, feeling something inside him soften, just a little. Maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe, for the first time, he wasn’t just clinging to the past. He was building something for the future.

And that felt like enough.

~#~

As the days passed, the connection between Lucifer and Adam deepened in ways neither of them had anticipated. It started with little things—small conversations, stolen glances, moments where their laughter rang out in sync. They were bonding in a way that felt more intimate than either had expected. What had begun as a slow thawing of walls soon became something more. Something that neither could quite name, but both felt.

Lucifer was not often one to show vulnerability, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor when he was with Adam. It wasn’t just about the playful jabs or the moments of sarcasm; it was the way he listened, how he’d catch Adam’s eye just a little longer than necessary, or how his voice would soften when speaking to him. His presence felt more than just a force of power—he felt, for the first time in centuries, like a person. And that person... cared about Adam. In ways that both scared and thrilled him.

Adam, on the other hand, was far more cautious. The walls he had spent so long building were cracking, and with each passing day, he felt them crumble further. He would catch himself in moments of quiet, just staring at Lucifer, his thoughts wandering to places he didn’t dare to go. But every time, he pulled back. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let himself fall again. Not after everything that had happened. Not after Eden.

He had loved Lucifer once, in a way that was pure and innocent. But now? Now, it was complicated. The anger, the hurt, the betrayal—it was still there, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He couldn’t forget what had happened in Eden, how Lucifer had cast him aside, how everything had changed. The love he had felt had turned to dust, a painful reminder of a time long gone.

Yet, despite all the distance Adam tried to put between them, despite the walls he erected in his heart, he couldn’t help but feel the pull when Lucifer was near. Lucifer’s smile, the way his eyes softened when they met Adam’s, the quiet moments when they’d sit together in silence—those things still made Adam’s heart ache. But each time, he pushed those feelings down. He couldn’t allow himself to fall back into that. Not again.

One evening, as the two of them sat in a dimly lit corner of the mansion, Lucifer was telling one of his stories. His voice was smooth, effortless, but Adam found his thoughts drifting. The warmth in Lucifer’s words, the way his eyes seemed to shine as he spoke—it was hard not to feel something. But Adam quickly snapped himself out of it, forcing his attention back to the conversation.

Lucifer glanced over at him, his eyes searching Adam’s face as if trying to read something beneath the surface.

“What’s on your mind, Adam?” Lucifer asked, his voice quieter than usual. There was an edge of concern in it, a softness that Adam wasn’t used to hearing.

Adam flinched slightly, caught off guard. He shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing. Just... lost in thought.”

Lucifer didn’t seem convinced. He leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving Adam. “You know, you don’t have to lie to me. Not anymore.”

Adam’s chest tightened, a pang of guilt washing over him. He didn’t want to let Lucifer see him like this, didn’t want to let him know how much he still felt. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“I’m not lying,” Adam said, his voice strained. “I’m fine.”

Lucifer didn’t buy it. His eyes narrowed, but instead of pressing further, he simply nodded, though there was something unreadable in his expression. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he studied Adam.

Adam couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucifer could see right through him—that, maybe, Lucifer could see the part of him he was trying so hard to hide. The part of him that still wanted to reach out. The part of him that still cared.

But the fear was there, too—the fear of getting hurt again, of being abandoned. The fear of giving his heart to Lucifer and having it torn to shreds once more.

A silence stretched between them, but it was a comfortable one—unlike the awkward pauses that used to fill the room when they first started spending time together. It was as if they had both accepted that there was something unsaid, something lingering, but neither wanted to push it. At least, not yet.

After a while, Adam stood up, feeling the weight of his thoughts press down on him. He couldn’t stay there, not with Lucifer watching him like that. He needed to be alone. He had to clear his head, to stop this cycle of feelings from taking hold of him.

“I think I’ll take a walk,” Adam said, his voice low as he turned away, his wings brushing against the air.

Lucifer didn’t stop him, though Adam could feel the King’s gaze following him as he walked toward the door. He wasn’t sure if it was concern or something else, but either way, he couldn’t bear to be around Lucifer right now. Not when the temptation to give in to those feelings was so strong.

As Adam stepped out into the cold night air, he tried to push everything aside. The ache in his chest, the longing for something he wasn’t sure he should have, the fear of falling into something that could never work. But as he walked down the garden path, something caught his eye.

A single flower, blooming impossibly in the cold, dark soil.

Adam stopped, staring at it, his breath catching in his throat. It was small, delicate, but it was real. A real flower, growing against all odds. For a moment, he just stood there, mesmerized by its simple beauty. And then he realized—he hadn’t planted it. It had just appeared.

His hand shook as he reached down, gently brushing his fingers against the petals. It was a sign. A sign of hope, maybe. A sign that, just like the flower, there was still something inside him that could grow, something that wasn’t broken beyond repair.

But as he stood there, his mind wandered back to Lucifer. Back to those soft smiles, those fleeting moments of kindness, and the way Lucifer looked at him sometimes, as though he was seeing something Adam had long since buried.

It was almost too much.

Adam closed his eyes, willing the thoughts away. But it was too late. He couldn’t stop it anymore.

He wanted Lucifer. In a way that scared him, in a way that he couldn’t deny. But he wasn’t sure he was ready to face that. Not yet.

When he returned to the mansion, he found Lucifer sitting near the window, his eyes distant but his posture relaxed. Lucifer didn’t look up when Adam entered, but he spoke anyway.

“You didn’t have to go,” Lucifer said, his voice quiet, almost knowing. “You’re not alone, you know. I’m not going anywhere.”

Adam froze, his heart stuttering in his chest. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to lean into the warmth of Lucifer’s words and let himself fall. But something in him still held back, still fought against it.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just... I needed some space,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the lie hung heavily between them.

Lucifer didn’t push. He just nodded, and for a long moment, they stood in silence, two souls adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Adam didn’t know what to do, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t keep pretending that he didn’t feel what he did. And that terrified him more than anything else.

~#~

Adam sat across from Charlie in her bright, sun-filled office, the soft hum of her voice buzzing in the background as she spoke with enthusiasm. Her words were warm and encouraging, and her eyes shone with pride as she talked about his progress. Adam forced a smile, nodding occasionally to acknowledge her, but inside, his mind was elsewhere—far from the cheerful praise she was showering on him.

Charlie was talking about how much he’d improved since arriving at the hotel. How he’d taken to his tasks, how he had made an effort to change. She spoke of how proud she was of his work around the hotel, how the guests and staff had noticed the difference in him, how much more comfortable he seemed.

"Adam, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see the growth you’ve shown! You’ve really come so far. It’s honestly incredible! The way you’ve been helping with the garden, the little touches around the hotel, your willingness to pitch in… it’s all so amazing." Charlie’s voice was full of genuine excitement as she gestured toward the door, as if everything about Adam’s presence in the hotel was a small victory.

Adam’s gaze shifted to the window, his mind drifting off again, away from her words. He wasn’t listening fully. Not really. His thoughts were tangled up in a storm of emotions, spinning around a singular, complicated person—Lucifer.

Every time he caught himself thinking about Lucifer, a knot twisted in his chest. The warmth, the care, the way Lucifer’s touch lingered in his memory, always accompanied by that cruel smirk that had once sent him spiraling. But now—now, it was different. There were moments when Lucifer's eyes softened, when his tone was gentler, when Adam felt like maybe... maybe Lucifer wasn’t just toying with him. Maybe there was something there, something real.

But then the fear would set in. Adam wasn’t sure he could go through that kind of pain again. Loving Lucifer had once been his everything, and when that love had been ripped away in Eden, it had broken him in ways he wasn’t sure he could ever repair. To love him again, to feel that warmth, would mean trusting him all over again. And trusting Lucifer had never ended well before.

Lost in his thoughts, Adam absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the silver feathers along his wings. He frowned. When had they changed?

The golden feathers, the radiant glow that used to shine so brightly, were gone. Replaced by the dull, muted sheen of silver. He hadn’t noticed until now, but the transformation seemed so subtle that it made him wonder: when had his wings shifted? And when had they become... so lifeless?

"Adam? Adam, are you listening?" Charlie's voice broke through the haze of his thoughts, and he blinked, trying to refocus on her.

"Sorry," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "I—I was just thinking."

Charlie smiled, oblivious to the storm brewing behind his eyes. "That’s okay! I just wanted to make sure you know how proud I am of you. You’ve really come a long way, and I think—"

Her expression softened, and she placed her hands on the desk, leaning forward as her eyes sparkled. "I think there’s so much potential in you. You're really making a difference here, Adam. I’m so happy to see you improving."

Her voice was full of warmth, full of sincerity, and it made his chest tighten. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for how little he truly felt like he was progressing. Charlie saw him as someone who was moving forward, growing into a new version of himself, but Adam didn’t feel that. He didn’t feel like he was growing—at least not in the way she thought.

The silence between them stretched out longer than it should have, and Adam was finally forced to pull himself from the depths of his thoughts. He gave her a small, strained smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Thanks, Charlie. I... appreciate it."

Charlie’s smile widened, oblivious to the turmoil brewing beneath Adam’s surface. "Of course! You’ve worked so hard, Adam. I just want you to know how proud I am, and I really believe you have what it takes to make it here. You’re doing great."

Adam’s fingers twitched, and for a moment, he felt the urge to flee. He wanted to be anywhere but here, sitting across from Charlie, hearing the things he knew he should feel grateful for but couldn’t. There was something missing, something that he couldn’t quite put into words.

"Yeah, I’m trying my best." Adam said quietly, his voice almost distant as he stared at his hands, fingers trembling ever so slightly. They were bruised from the constant use, worn from trying and failing to do what he once could do so effortlessly.

But the truth was, he wasn’t just trying his best to improve at the hotel. He was trying his best to hold it together, to pretend that everything was fine. That the silver feathers on his wings didn’t feel like a symbol of everything he had lost. That the distance between him and the one person he wanted most didn’t tear him apart a little more each day.

Charlie’s voice brought him back once more. "You know, I’m so glad you’re here, Adam. It’s like you’re meant to be a part of this place."

She paused, tilting her head slightly. "You just have to believe in yourself a little more. I know you’re capable of amazing things, Adam."

Adam nodded, the words swirling in his head as his heart grew heavier with each passing second. He wanted to believe her. He really did. He wanted to believe that the person he used to be—that the person who had been capable of bringing life and beauty to the world—wasn’t gone for good. But when he tried to reach for that part of himself, it felt like something was missing, like the wings that had once been so full of light were now tarnished, just like the man who wore them.

"I’ll try," he said, his voice quiet, almost defeated.

Charlie beamed at him, clearly satisfied with his response. She didn’t know how much those words hurt, how much the hope she gave him only seemed to highlight how far he’d fallen.

But Charlie didn’t see that. She didn’t know the secret ache he carried inside. She couldn’t see the loneliness in his eyes, nor the way his heart longed for something that felt unreachable.

As Charlie continued to talk, her voice a steady stream of praise and encouragement, Adam’s mind wandered once more. But this time, instead of focusing on his failures, his mind drifted to Lucifer—the one person who had always been there, and yet, had never truly been there for him. A bittersweet yearning tugged at him, pulling him toward the man whose presence both comforted and terrified him.

The only question was: Was Lucifer just as lost as he was?

~#~

Later, Adam stood in the garden of the hotel, his eyes tracing the edges of the flowers, watching them flutter in the breeze. He couldn’t grow anything. Not even the simplest flower. His fingers twitched, but the soil remained untouched by any kind of magic. The golden light of his wings had dimmed so much over the weeks. It seemed like he was fading. He hated this feeling—the sense of helplessness, the constant reminder of what he'd lost. And all he wanted was to escape into the solace of his thoughts, to forget about everything around him. But no matter how hard he tried, Lucifer was always in the back of his mind.

Just as he was about to turn and retreat inside, a voice cut through the air, smooth and almost too calm. "You’re always running away from something, aren’t you?"

Adam stiffened, recognizing the voice immediately. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He was used to the sound of Lucifer’s footsteps, the way they echoed in the quiet of the hotel’s garden, the air thick with tension every time they crossed paths.

Adam swallowed hard and slowly turned around, his pulse quickening despite himself. Lucifer was standing by the stone archway that framed the garden, the faintest of smirks playing at the corners of his lips. His red eyes glinted in the pale moonlight, his presence all-encompassing. The way he looked at Adam sent a shiver down his spine.

"What do you want?" Adam muttered, his voice not quite steady. He was trying so hard to keep his emotions in check, to keep things from spiraling.

Lucifer stepped closer, the air around him crackling with something dangerous and enticing. "I want a lot of things, Adam. But tonight... I want you to stop running from me."

Adam's heart skipped a beat. He knew what Lucifer meant. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind to the moments they shared—those moments when their gazes lingered too long, when their words were layered with something unspoken. But Adam didn’t know how to deal with it. He couldn’t. Not again. He had already given up so much of himself in the past, and he wasn’t sure he could survive losing himself to Lucifer once more.

Lucifer took another step forward, and Adam’s breath hitched. "Why do you keep avoiding this?" Lucifer’s voice was low, almost like a whisper meant only for Adam. "You’ve been pushing me away, and I don’t understand why. You think I don’t know what’s happening between us?"

Adam felt a pang in his chest, something between hope and fear. His heart was fighting against the pull of Lucifer’s words. It would be so easy to fall back into what they once were. It would be so easy to let Lucifer back in, to let him take all of Adam’s pieces and make them whole again. But there was too much pain, too many memories of betrayal.

“I’m not… I’m not running from you,” Adam said, though his voice cracked slightly, betraying the lie.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, as if he’d heard the lie for what it was. "Really?"

He was close now, close enough that Adam could feel the heat of Lucifer’s presence, the magnetic pull of his aura. "Then why is it, every time I look at you, I see that little flicker of hesitation? Why is it, when I reach out to you, you flinch?"

Adam took a step back, trying to put distance between them, but Lucifer moved faster, catching his wrist in a vice-like grip before he could even process the movement. Adam’s pulse thudded loudly in his ears, his breath coming faster, his body reacting against his will.

"Lucifer..." Adam breathed, but his words felt hollow.

Lucifer’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a split second before his face hardened once more. He leaned down, his lips dangerously close to Adam’s ear.

"I can feel it too, you know. You think I don’t see how you look at me, how you still care?" His voice was a low rumble.

"I’ve waited, Adam. I’ve waited long enough."

Before Adam could react, Lucifer pressed his lips to Adam’s, a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a shock of electricity through Adam’s body. It wasn’t desperate, not frantic, but it was heavy with years of longing. And it made Adam’s heart race, made the walls around him tremble and crack.

For a moment, Adam was frozen, caught in the undeniable heat of it, caught in the magnetic pull of Lucifer’s touch, the way his lips seemed to claim him. He had never experienced anything like it before—the weight of it, the depth, the rawness of it.

But then reality crashed back, and Adam pulled away, his body reacting instinctively. His hands shoved against Lucifer’s chest, pushing him away as he gasped for air, panic flooding him.

“No, no, no,” Adam whispered, his voice frantic. "I can’t... I can’t do this again, Lucifer."

Lucifer didn’t step back immediately. His gaze was intense, filled with something Adam couldn’t fully read—frustration, maybe, but also a twisted kind of satisfaction. "Why?" Lucifer asked, his voice soft, but the undercurrent of hurt was clear. "Why do you keep rejecting me? Why can’t you just let go, Adam? You don’t have to be alone anymore."

"I’m not... I’m not the person you think I am," Adam said, shaking his head violently. His wings fluttered, the silver feathers brushing against his back as he took another step back, away from Lucifer. "You don’t understand. I don’t want this."

Lucifer finally stepped back, his eyes darkening, but there was no anger in them—only quiet, haunting patience.

"I understand more than you think, Adam. And I’m not going anywhere."

Adam’s breath was shaky, his heart pounding, but he couldn’t look away from Lucifer’s piercing gaze. He wanted to stay, wanted to let it happen, to let himself be loved, to feel the warmth of it again. But he couldn’t. Not like this. Not when the scars were still so fresh.

Without another word, Adam turned and fled, his wings flapping desperately behind him as he ran into the hotel, his heart torn in two.

He didn’t know how to love Lucifer again. Not yet. And he wasn’t sure he ever would.

~#~

Lucifer threw himself onto the couch in Charlie’s office with a dramatic sigh, stretching out his long limbs and letting his head flop backward. The couch creaked beneath him as he stared up at the ceiling, his wings flaring out behind him.

“Dad,” Charlie muttered without looking up from her paperwork. “What are you doing here? This is my office, you know. Serious professionalism happens in here.”

Lucifer gasped as if she had just insulted him.

“This is serious, Charlie!” he insisted, his voice filled with mock indignation. “I need your advice.”

Charlie rolled her eyes but set down her pen, leaning back in her chair with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. What’s going on now?”

Lucifer didn’t hesitate, his voice faltering slightly as he spoke. “I’m... trying with Adam.” He winced as the words left his mouth. “I think he likes me. I mean, I know he does... but he keeps rejecting me.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed, her gaze shifting from her desk to Lucifer, who was now dramatically sulking on the couch. “Wait. Hold on.”

She leaned forward, the chair creaking slightly. “You're upset because Adam keeps rejecting your advances?”

Lucifer nodded solemnly, his usually confident demeanor slipping just a little.

“Exactly,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and genuine confusion. “I don’t get it, Charlie. I’m trying to be patient with him. I’m making an effort, but it’s like... nothing’s working.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow, tapping her fingers against the desk thoughtfully.

“Dad...” she started, a small, almost playful smirk creeping onto her face. “You do realize you haven’t exactly been the nicest to him, right?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”

He sat up on the couch, looking at her with furrowed brows. “I’ve been trying to change, okay? I’m being patient! I’m not the same person I was in Eden!”

Charlie folded her arms across her chest, giving him a knowing look. “You’ve made progress, sure. But that doesn’t erase everything that’s happened between you two. You can't just expect him to suddenly be okay with everything after all the things you did to him.”

"I...what?" Lucifer breathed out.

"I don't know what happened between you, Adam and Mum, but I can tell Adam got the short end of the stick." Charlie accussed. "And you haven't been nice about it at all. You've been down right mean."

Lucifer’s expression faltered for a moment, and he slouched back into the couch. His eyes dropped, as if the weight of her words hit him harder than he’d expected.

“I didn’t mean for things to get this way. I never wanted to hurt him... But I’m trying now. I really am.”

Charlie sighed, her voice softening as she leaned back in her chair. “I know you’re trying, but Adam... he’s been hurt. A lot. He can’t just flip a switch and forget everything you’ve done.”

Lucifer was silent for a long moment, looking down at his clawed hands, his fingers twitching slightly. “I don’t know how to make it right, Charlie. I don’t know how to get through to him.”

Charlie looked at him with a mix of frustration and sympathy, her eyes locking onto his. “Maybe you need to start by showing him that you’re really, truly sorry. That you’re not just doing this because you want something from him, but because you care about him. You have to earn his trust again, Dad. It’s not going to happen overnight.”

Lucifer’s gaze softened as he slowly nodded. “I don’t want to hurt him anymore, Charlie. I don’t want him to keep rejecting me... but maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to earn his trust first.”

Charlie gave a small, approving smile, before turning back to her desk. “Well, there you go. It’s going to take time, but if you really care about him, you’ll make it work. Just don’t expect it to be easy.”

Lucifer leaned back on the couch, his arms folded behind his head. For the first time in a while, his mind wasn’t consumed with anger or pride. Instead, he found himself deep in thought about Adam, about how to show him the truth of his feelings—how to prove to him that he was truly trying to be a better person.

“I’ll make it right, Charlie,” Lucifer muttered, his voice filled with resolve. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

[silentmagi]

RWBY AU where Weiss, seeing that her father refuses to let her become a huntress, runs away from home under a fake identity and travels to Beacon in order to achieve her dream…

And then she realized that she’ll have to pretend to be a normal girl rather than a rich heiress and that she’ll have to hide her real identity possibly for the rest of her life since if her father finds out where she is he’ll drag her back home by force.

Series: RWBY AU Criteria: Weiss leaves her family to go and seek out the life she wants to live, knowing her father will never let uphold his promise. AU title (optional): Frozen Out

Weiss, knowing her father's duplicitous ways, decides to enroll herself into Beacon under another name, and leaves immediately. First stop is the bank to empty her account, and then the first freight train to Beacon.

Having been in the cabin just behind the black cargo train's engine, she doesn't realize there was an attack until the train lurched forward as quite a lot of weight fell away. She decides taht she needs to up her disguise as she was almost a hostage for her father's dust…

Getting a cheap scroll under the name of Crystal Wander, she gets her hair died a rainbow of colors, and styled in several pigtails braided by the hairstylist's daughters. She also takes the chance to exchange dresses with the eldest, who admittedly was a few inches taller and larger than her, even being three years younger.

She gets to Beacon, and shows her application on her new scroll, and is about to be rejected when Ozpin welcomes her in, and directs her to where the other students will be gathering.

There she meets someone that will change her destiny forever, Ruby Rose seems to be exactly who she would have avoided like the plague… but for Crystal, she's perfect.

[thornethenorn]

WELL THERE'S THIS

What's the one insecurity your OC would be devastated to have used against them?

Bonus: do people know this about them?

[yooo-lets-go]

I lost the ask but it was about Soap in this specific shirt, and another one was about Ghost in a kilt, so here they are:

Leave at Johnny’s this time

[babybluebanshee]

Someone pointed out that a lot of recent films that previously focused on the importance of found family (Lilo and stitch is the most recent, but they also mentioned Frozen, Wreck It Ralph, and Toy Story, plus HTTYD in the tags) have had that messaging undone by their sequels and remakes. And if I were more conspiracy brained, I would point out how found family narratives are very important to queer people, who’re often rejected or mistreated by their biological families, because it reminds them that there is a place for them in the world. That even if some or all of their blood relatives won’t have them, someone out there will gladly welcome them into their family of choice. It’s been foundational to the queer experience for centuries and so much media that’s beloved by queer people (whether openly queer or merely coded) focuses on it. And how in a social and political time when backlash against queer people is reaching a fever pitch, the emphasis on “actually no, these people who were shunned, mistreated, and isolated for being different and came together to be happy anyway should split up without even a thought to the people who have loved and welcomed them and made them feel safe and accepted for the first time. They should all have normal dreams and want to live respectable, individualist lives and have socially acceptable careers and get married and have children, and the ones who want them all to stay together are explicitly shown to be wrong and holding the others back.” is actually kind of nefarious, especially with Disney’s current very, very, very bad erasure of queer themes and characters along with the revelation of their support of Florida’s don’t say gay bill. Given all that, this would all seem very concerning to me. Good thing I’m not conspiracy brained tho.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Death looms over Vanny's shoulder in FNAF..

[theshadowrealmitself]

I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them

People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human

“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”

“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”

“Yeah!!”

“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”

“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“

“How illogical”

“That’s what I’m saying!!!”

[zubzooks]

bright one

[emacrow]

The civilization trapped in an ice meteorite.

Superman, after saving the earth from another earth ending bomb, breeze through space, were glowing clouds of gas and dust known as a planetary nebula floated around aimlessly with glowing green dwarf particles as if a solar system was sucked into, but there only lays a sun and 7 planets here before before something caught his eye.

A pusling aimlessly floating ball like metorite full of frozen white ice with green dipped in the bottom in the middle of space. The pulsing glow flickers like a couple of very slow heartbeats.

Superman used his x ray vision to see inside, and what he saw immediately immediately griped the ice and speed flew over through back to the Watchtower which was not far from here.

Superman spoke in the coms of his oxygen mask to the Watchtower.

"Open the space entrance gates, and someone calls in Beatriz Da Costa. I found a floating town trapped in metorite ice with what seems civilians' insides." Superman spoke in the coms as he pushed the metorite carefully toward the watchtower, unaware of the gigantic glowing transparent being with 8 neon green eyes staring at him wrapped around the ice metorite like a Serpent to it's eggs.

[anyataylorjoys]

SMILE 2 (2024) dir. Parker Finn

[sea-beam]

let me dream

[rainforestakiie]

hi everyone,

i am back with part 02 of Frozen out! i hope you like it, it's a bit different. i just wanted to write something like Anna's villain song music video.

i hope you like it and let me know what you think below!

Adam huddled beneath the fading light, his body curled into itself, hands trembling in the cold, desperately trying to coax the earth into life. He stretched them out, fingers shaking with the effort, but there was nothing. Nothing but the barren ground beneath him, as lifeless as his heart had become. Why didn’t anything ever grow for him anymore? His chest tightened, a familiar ache blossoming like a wound that had never quite healed. Had falling really changed him this much? Was this his punishment—his torment—for simply... following the rules?

Tears welled up in his eyes, hot and fierce, before trailing down his cheeks. His bruised, blackened fingers dug into the earth, grasping at the cold soil as if begging it for mercy, but the earth refused him. It refused to nurture him. It refused to forgive him. There was nothing. Always just the emptiness.

He tried not to, but his thoughts turned to Lucifer. Why had he changed so suddenly? Why did he care now when he never had before? Adam could still remember the days when it was just the two of them in Eden—the days when Lucifer had remained distant, untouchable, an archangel whose gaze never lingered on him. Adam had loved him, with a love so pure it hurt. He had adored the archangel with every beat of his heart, longing for his attention, wishing for nothing more than to be seen. But Lucifer had never seen him—not really.

Then Lilith was born, and everything shifted. Lucifer's gaze no longer strayed from Eden. Adam’s heart had twisted at the sight of it—the way the archangel’s eyes seemed to light up when Lilith entered the picture. He was no longer the one Lucifer would turn to for comfort or companionship. He was no longer the one Lucifer would seek out.

…He had been... replaced.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. He hiccupped, the sharpness of the thought catching him off guard. His hand flew up to his face, rubbing away the tears that burned against his skin. Oh.

Was that it?

Was that all he was—just a placeholder? Had Lucifer only shown interest in him because Lilith was gone, and Eve hadn’t come yet? Without them, he was the last remnant of Eden, a fading echo of what once was.

The bitter realization settled over him like a weight he could hardly bear. He had thought... no, he had hoped... that maybe, just maybe, Lucifer had truly seen him now, had come to love him in a way he never had before. But it wasn’t love, was it? It was just loneliness, a fleeting attempt to fill a void left behind. The sharp ache in his chest burned like fire. He was just a replacement.

Adam’s head hung low, tears falling freely now, each one a mark of a love unreciprocated. He had been so blind, so naïve to think that Lucifer’s touch, his attention, could mean anything more than just a distraction. A temporary solace. He sniffed, trying to quiet the sobs that threatened to tear him apart.

It hurt. More than he could put into words. The sting of rejection, of never being enough. The pain of loving someone who could never love him back. It was too much. It was always too much.

And yet, despite everything, Adam couldn’t stop loving him. Even now, even in this moment of brokenness, the love for Lucifer still burned within him.

Adam flinched, his body seizing as an unnatural chill crept over him, seeping deep into his bones. He shuddered, his arms wrapping around himself instinctively, trying to hold onto some warmth that simply wasn’t there. The cold wasn’t just surface-deep, no, it was crawling beneath his skin, a cruel, biting frost that spread across his flesh like ice. It was a strange sensation, one that didn’t belong in this place—this forsaken land that was supposed to burn with fire and agony, a place where the air itself clung heavy with the oppressive heat of Hell. But here he was, trembling as if the very marrow in his bones had turned to ice.

His breath came in shallow, jagged gasps, misting in the air, which only seemed to make the chill feel more real, more terrifying. He couldn’t remember when the cold had first taken hold of him. Was it when he fell? Or had it started before, when everything had begun to unravel, when the cracks had started to form and nothing felt right anymore?

He clenched his fists, trying to ignore the sting in his fingers, but the numbness was creeping in, dulling everything—every sensation, every feeling. His body, once alive with the power of creation, now felt like a hollow shell, a ghost of the person he once was. When had he become so... empty? When had the warmth that had once pulsed through him gone?

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find a thread of warmth, a spark of hope to hold onto. But all he felt was the icy grip tightening around him, pulling him further away from himself. He tried to remember the last time he had truly felt warmth—truly felt alive—but his mind felt like it was wrapped in fog, a thick, impenetrable haze that only deepened the ache inside him.

He thought of Eden, of the days before everything had changed. Of the moments when the sun had kissed his skin, and the earth had bloomed beneath his touch. It all felt like a lifetime ago, as if he were remembering someone else’s life, someone who had known what it was to feel whole. To feel loved.

The cold inside him grew, curling around his heart, threatening to extinguish the fragile light that still flickered within.

He wanted to scream, to lash out at the injustice of it all. But what was the point? The earth had already turned its back on him. Lucifer had already walked away. And he? He was left here, alone in the cold, with nothing but the ghosts of his past to haunt him.

The tears that had stopped flowing moments ago began again, silent and bitter, tracing the frozen path down his cheeks. It wasn’t just the cold that hurt—it was the weight of it all, the crushing isolation. He had never been meant to endure this kind of emptiness. Not in Eden. Not here. Not anywhere.

But he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop the freezing that was overtaking him, inside and out.

“Huh. That’s weird,” he mumbled, running his blacken hand over his arms. His greyish skin was cold too. His hairs didn’t even stand up on end.

Adam shrugged it off.

Adam's steps were slow, hesitant, as he made his way back toward the lounge. His head hung low, his thoughts tangled like the cold that still gripped him. His wings—once majestic, once full of life—felt numb against his back, as though they too had begun to wither, to fade into nothing. The weight of them was almost unbearable now, but it wasn’t just the wings—it was everything. His heart, his mind, his very sense of self felt like they were unravelling.

Each step brought him closer, yet further away. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened, of the emptiness that clung to him like a second skin. Nothing had ever felt so cold, so distant. He wasn’t sure what he was walking toward, or if he even wanted to find out. But his feet carried him, as they always did, toward that place where the others gathered.

As he drew near to the lounge, he heard voices—loud, excited voices that cut through the cold fog in his mind. Adam paused, brow furrowing in confusion. The voices didn’t sound like the usual tired conversations or the murmurs of indifference he had grown accustomed to. They were... different. Livelier, more urgent. And there, beneath the noise, was something else—something he couldn't quite place.

Curiosity tugged at him, against his better judgment. With a hesitant step forward, Adam reached the doorway, and there they were.

Charlie spun around in a whirl of energy, her face alight with excitement, her eyes wide as she saw him.

"Oh, Adam!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels. "I was just about to come find you! You would never believe what's happened!"

Adam blinked, still unsure of what to make of this sudden burst of energy. He barely had time to register Charlie’s exuberance before she clapped her hands together, her smile nearly bursting with glee. She seemed on the verge of bursting with excitement, her voice practically singing with delight.

"I just received word from Heaven!" she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "They want us to meet with them instantly! Sir Pentious—a sinner we thought was... well, you know..."

She trailed off, her eyes darting away briefly, as though reluctant to revisit whatever terrible story she had been about to tell. "Anyway, he was revived! Up in Heaven! As a winner!"

Charlie squealed, her hands flying to her cheeks in disbelief. "I was right! I knew it! Sir Pentious was redeemed! He’s been redeemed!"

Adam stared at her, his expression frozen, his mind struggling to process her words. Redeemed? Sir Pentious?

The same vile, twisted being who had caused so much suffering, so much destruction?

His gaze shifted to Lucifer, who was standing quietly off to the side. The archangel’s expression was... strange. Concerned, maybe even... troubled. That was not what Adam had expected. It was almost as if he, too, was trying to make sense of Charlie’s exuberance. But why? Why would Lucifer care about this?

Adam frowned, feeling the confusion deepen.

Charlie’s words faded into background noise as his mind began to spiral, consumed by a swirl of thoughts and questions he couldn’t answer. It worked? Charlie’s ideas—her hotel, her dreams—had worked? Sinners... sinners could be redeemed? Could they really be saved?

But then his mind flickered back to Sera.

Sera had told him it was impossible. She had ordered him to carry out her plans, to do what Heaven deemed necessary. She had claimed that some lives—like the lives of his children—were a price worth paying, a sacrifice Heaven deemed required to maintain order. But how could they? How could Heaven forgive someone like Sir Pentious?

Adam’s heart raced, and his breath hitched in his throat. His hands trembled at his sides as a wave of shock and disbelief washed over him. He murdered thousands of his babies, Adam thought, his mind reeling. He was the one who tore them apart—because Heaven ordered it. Because it was necessary for some twisted balance.

But now, now he was redeemed? He was a winner?

The thoughts clashed together in Adam’s mind, violent and raw. His knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed into the doorway, grasping the frame for support. His head spun, and the cold in his chest seemed to tighten with each breath, as if it were a vice squeezing the air from his lungs. He could barely focus, the words spilling out around him, but they didn’t reach him. They couldn’t.

His eyes burned with unshed tears, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make sense of this new world. A world where everything he thought he knew was twisted, turned upside down, and crushed beneath the weight of its own hypocrisy. A world where sinners were redeemed. Where murderers, monsters, could come back and be forgiven.

And yet here he stood—left to freeze, to wither. Left alone. He had followed the rules, the orders from Heaven, because that was what he was supposed to do. He had never asked for any of this. He had never wanted to hurt anyone.

But somehow, it all felt wrong. It felt... unjust.

His head throbbed with the overwhelming weight of it all, and for a moment, it was as though the room around him was fading, blurring out of focus. He was losing himself in the enormity of it all, the pain of the world—and his place in it—becoming too much to bear.

T he tension in the room thickened, suffocating the air around Adam as his mind spiraled further, trying desperately to make sense of the confusion, the injustice, and the impossible weight of it all. His thoughts crashed together, but before he could stop himself, he was retreating into himself, his shoulders curling inward like a fragile shell.

Lucifer, however, seemed to sense the shift in him almost immediately. His eyes narrowed with quiet concern, and without a word, he moved toward Adam with a grace that was almost predatory—but not in the way it had been before. There was no malice in his movement. Only a deep, silent understanding.

"Adam," Lucifer murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the cacophony of thoughts tearing through Adam’s mind.

His presence felt like a quiet, magnetic pull. It didn’t demand attention, but it beckoned with a quiet comfort, a silent promise that he wasn’t alone. Lucifer stopped just a few paces away from him, his gaze heavy with something Adam couldn’t quite place. Sympathy, maybe. Or something more.

Charlie, still caught up in her excitement, finally noticed the shift in Adam’s posture. Her enthusiasm faltered as she saw his distant, almost lost expression. She blinked, a look of realization creeping across her face as she turned to Lucifer.

Lucifer, without looking at her, spoke softly, his voice carrying an unspoken command. "Charlie, it might be too much for him right away."

Charlie gasped, her face softening with a sudden realization. "Oh, Adam..." Her voice trailed off, eyes searching his face for some sign of understanding, some flicker of the strength she had come to expect from him. But Adam only stood there, frozen, caught between the urge to escape and the desperate need to be seen.

Adam shook his head slightly, a small, jerky movement as he pulled away from Lucifer’s gentle approach. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. His chest tightened, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He wanted to appear unbothered, indifferent, but his words betrayed him as his voice cracked under the weight of it all.

"I—I want to join the meeting," he said, his tone more forceful than he felt, his attempt at sternness hollow.

Charlie and Lucifer exchanged a glance, both expressions filled with a silent understanding, but also concern. They were both clearly unsure, but neither of them pushed him away. Instead, Charlie’s expression softened further, her brow furrowing in quiet sympathy.

But Adam couldn’t bear it—not the pity, not the concern. It was all too much. His heart raced in his chest, the sudden vulnerability forcing him to look away from them. He stared at the floor, suddenly very small under their gazes, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he added, "Please."

Charlie’s gaze softened even more. She took a step toward him, but stopped herself, clearly torn between respecting his request and protecting him from the turmoil she saw in his eyes.

Lucifer, too, seemed torn. His face was full of unspoken words, as if he were fighting the urge to touch Adam, to comfort him, but he hesitated. His hand twitched slightly, as though it were reaching out, but then it fell back to his side. His expression shifted—something warm, tender, but also uncertain. He wasn’t angry. No, he wasn’t angry with Adam at all. There was only a deep sorrow in his eyes, a sorrow that made Adam’s chest tighten even more.

"Are you sure, Adam?" Charlie asked, her voice gentle, almost a whisper.

Adam nodded, his expression hardening, though the mask of indifference was still fragile, barely holding together. He didn’t look at Lucifer, but he could feel his presence, looming in the background like a steady pulse.

"I want to... speak to Sera," Adam said, his voice quieter now, carrying a weight of desperation and something else—something he didn’t want to admit to himself.

Lucifer’s frown deepened, but it wasn’t the anger Adam had feared. No, it wasn’t anger at all. It was something else—something dark, something raw. Lucifer’s gaze darkened as he stared at Adam, but it wasn’t directed at him. It was directed at something far more distant, something beyond Adam.

His lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, he took a breath, and with a soft, resigned sigh, he nodded.

"Of course, you can join us," Lucifer whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "You have the right."

And in those words, Adam heard something he hadn’t expected. A kind of permission, but also something else. Something softer. A promise, maybe, or a silent acknowledgment. Lucifer wasn’t just allowing him to join; he was accepting him in a way Adam hadn’t known he needed.

But before Lucifer opened the portal, he turned to Charlie, his expression unusually serious.

"Hey, Charlie," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Can I speak to Adam alone for a moment?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, her playful energy faltering slightly. She glanced from Lucifer to Adam, her gaze lingering on her father with a mix of understanding and concern. She let out a dramatic sigh, hands on her hips.

"You’re not going to push him too much, are you?" she warned, her tone teasing but with an undercurrent of protectiveness.

Lucifer pouted, a playful, exaggerated frown pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Man, you have so much trust in me," he said, his voice dripping with mock hurt.

Charlie rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh, but the hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

"You’re lucky I do," she said. "Just don’t overdo it."

Lucifer nodded, a smirk tugging at his own lips as he turned to Adam.

"I won’t, I promise," he said, before Charlie flashed him a final warning look and walked off, giving them the space they needed.

Adam, still reeling from everything that had been happening, watched Charlie leave. His confusion only deepened as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

"What is this?" he asked, frowning. "I can’t think about whatever's going on between us right now, especially after... after all that with the redeemed sinner thing."

His voice wavered slightly, but he was trying to hold onto his resolve.

Lucifer’s gaze softened, his usual sardonic edge gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. He took a slow, deliberate step closer to Adam, keeping his distance just enough to give him space, but close enough that Adam could feel the weight of his presence.

"I know," Lucifer said, his voice quiet and earnest. "I know it’s a lot. And I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want to do."

His eyes were searching Adam’s, like he was looking for some sign, some flicker of understanding. "But I want you to know something—something important."

Adam didn’t know what to say. He felt the strange tug in his chest, the complicated pull of emotions that didn’t quite make sense. He was drowning in so many conflicting thoughts, unable to make sense of any of them.

Lucifer continued, his voice almost a whisper, the words laced with sincerity. "I really like you, Adam. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait. For as long as it takes, I’ll wait for you to give me a real answer."

He paused, just inches from Adam, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. "I want us to give this a chance."

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The confusion, the hurt, everything churned inside of him, and he was speechless, overwhelmed by it all. What could he say? How could he even begin to sort through everything he felt? Lucifer had hurt him so many times, had pushed him so far, and yet now… now he was saying this?

"Answer?" Adam finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, full of disbelief. "Answer for what?"

Lucifer didn’t answer with words. Instead, he gently reached out, taking Adam’s hand and placing it over his chest. Adam’s breath caught as he felt Lucifer’s heart racing beneath his fingertips. It was an intimacy Adam wasn’t prepared for, but there it was, raw and real.

"I really love you, Adam," Lucifer said, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke the words. "I really want to give us a chance. Please—let me prove it to you."

Adam’s mind went blank, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to react. His chest tightened, his heart racing. I love you?

He couldn’t understand it, not fully. Not after everything Lucifer had done. He wanted to speak, to shout all the things he was feeling, but the words were tangled, caught in the mess of his emotions.

Lucifer’s eyes were soft now, full of something Adam hadn’t expected—vulnerability.

"I know you don’t believe me," Lucifer continued quietly. "I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. I haven’t been good to you, Adam. But I want to try. I want to earn your trust, and I want to earn your forgiveness." His voice was sincere, almost pleading.

Adam’s throat tightened, and he felt the sting of tears threatening to overwhelm him, but he couldn’t bring himself to let them fall. Everything was so confusing. So much anger, so much hurt, so much betrayal. Lucifer had destroyed him, twisted him, and now he was standing there, saying he wanted to make things right.

Adam wanted to speak, to tell Lucifer everything that was in his heart—the bitterness, the sorrow, the confusion—but the words never came. He couldn’t make sense of it all. How could he? How could he even begin to process what was happening?

Lucifer seemed to sense this. He gave Adam’s hand a soft squeeze, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he sighed, pulling back slightly.

 "I won’t force anything, Adam," Lucifer whispered, his voice full of quiet understanding. "I don’t expect an answer right away. But I want you to know—I'll wait. As long as it takes."

Before Adam could gather his thoughts, a sudden movement caught his attention. Charlie reappeared, her arms looping around Adam’s and Lucifer’s. She tugged them both to her side, her smile wide and bright, though her eyes seemed to hide a trace of curiosity, like she’d been listening to their conversation from a distance.

"Shall we go now?" she said, her voice cheerful, as if everything was perfectly normal. She shot Lucifer a teasing grin. "You’ve got that look in your eyes again, old man."

Lucifer smirked, his usual playfulness returning as he shrugged. "Of course. Let’s go see that laptop."

Charlie gasped, her eyes widening in mock shock. "Dad! You can’t keep calling Sera that!"

Adam blinked, his mind still in a whirl. Sera?

He turned to Lucifer, confusion written all over his face. But Lucifer just laughed, clearly amused by the situation.

"You haven’t noticed, Adam?" Lucifer said, his tone light and teasing. "She literally jumps at every opportunity to get at Metaron’s feet. She’s practically her lapdog."

Adam blinked, still processing, but as Lucifer’s words sank in, something in his chest loosened. His lips twitched, an involuntary smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, though it was small and uncertain.

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the golden portal appeared, shimmering and swirling with bright, dazzling light. Adam felt a deep knot in his stomach. Whatever was waiting on the other side of that portal, it didn’t feel like something he was ready for. His heart pounded, and he swallowed hard.

He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

"Ready?" Lucifer asked, his voice light but carrying a certain edge of anticipation.

Charlie looked between the two of them, her expression unreadable, but she seemed to be hiding something—a curiosity about the quiet exchange that had just taken place.

Adam’s throat was dry, and as he stepped toward the portal, he could feel the weight of everything that had just happened—the words, the emotions, the promises, the pain—crushing down on him.

But he had no choice. He had to go through with this. He had no idea what awaited him, but he couldn’t turn back now.

The golden portal flickered shut behind them, the weight of its closing a sickening echo that reverberated through Adam’s bones. His gaze swept the room, cold and hollow, as Charlie led the charge into the sterile, unforgiving space. The walls, gleaming white and almost painfully bright, reflected his unease. This place, this place, it felt like a tomb, and he was trapped inside it.

Lucifer’s grunted displeasure broke through the tension. “Ugh, I hate this place. It’s still such an eyesore.” His voice, normally a note of command, felt hollow here, an echo in the expansive emptiness.

Adam couldn’t even summon the energy to agree. He stood stiff, a statue of silence, trying to will himself into the cold floor beneath him. His hands trembled at his sides, fists clenched. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to face anyone here. Especially not Sera.

"Why did you make a throne anyway?" Adam's words slipped out, distant, as if the question was something he had asked a thousand times in his head and never once expected an answer.

Charlie, ever the inquisitive spirit, jumped on it. "Yes! I want to know that too! I mean, Dad, look at it. It’s ugly and takes up half of Hell’s side!"

Lucifer blinked at them, feigning innocence, then gave the throne a slow, appraising look. It was garish, too big, too much—something born out of ego. Still, he couldn’t hide his defensiveness.

“What are you two talking about? It’s... lovely.”

Charlie snorted, folding her arms and clearly unimpressed. "Sorry, Dad, but it looks like, in all words, shit."

Adam barely registered the exchange. He was too busy trying to keep himself together, his stomach twisting into knots. Focus, Adam. Focus. But it was impossible. His chest felt like it was caving in, suffocating under the weight of memories he didn’t want to revisit.

Then the doors opened, and the air around him seemed to freeze. Sera stepped into the room, her presence icy, impervious, and everything Adam wanted to forget. His body tensed, instinctively pulling away. He wanted to vanish. He wanted to run, but his feet were glued to the floor. The last time he’d seen her, he’d been forced into a corner, forced to make decisions that shattered him.

Behind her, Emily bounced in, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Isn't this amazing?" she said, practically glowing at the thought of the possibility of redemption. "Sinners becoming winners, how incredible is that?"

It was all white noise to Adam. He could barely focus on what Emily was saying as he tried to push back the tide of overwhelming emotions that threatened to drown him.

The conversation swirled around him—plans, possibilities, the redemption of souls—but he was far away from it all, his mind trapped in a maze of guilt and fury. Sera’s icy gaze flicked over him, and in that moment, Adam couldn’t breathe.

"I… I have something I want to ask you," Adam’s voice broke through the suffocating quiet, a thin, trembling sound that quivered under the weight of centuries. It was fragile, yet it reverberated with the rawness of betrayal, demanding attention. He felt the eyes on him—piercing, judging, waiting—and he hated them. Their stares felt like knives carving him open, exposing the shattered remnants of a man who had once believed in something.

Sera’s expression flickered, a shadow of surprise darting across her usually impenetrable facade. "Yes?" she said, her voice cold and controlled. "What is it?"

The room seemed to contract, as if the very air tightened in anticipation. Even Emily and Charlie, who were never far from their usual chatter, fell silent. Charlie gave him one of her soft, hopeful smiles—an anchor meant to steady him—but it only deepened the ache in his chest. Her kindness was a blade, cutting against the harsh truth that he was already breaking apart, the cracks in him spider-webbing into pieces too sharp to hold.

He swallowed hard. The question in his throat was heavy, jagged, a stone he had carried for far too long. Dragging it out was agony, every word tearing at wounds he had thought were long scarred over. But he forced it out, the sound of his voice slicing through the room.

"Did you know," he began, his voice shaking under the strain, "before Sir Pentious was redeemed, that it was… at all possible?" He locked eyes with Sera, the accusation burning in his gaze. "That sinners could be redeemed? That they could become winners?"

The silence that followed was suffocating, oppressive. It clung to him like a second skin, cold and unyielding. Adam’s heart thundered in his ears, the sound deafening in the stillness. He searched Sera’s face, desperate for something—anything. A spark of regret, a flash of guilt. But there was nothing. Her eyes were hard as steel, her lips pressed into a thin, unmoving line.

Emily shifted beside him, her excitement dimming as irritation overtook her features. She opened her mouth, ready to fill the void with her usual sharp retort, but before she could speak, Lucifer’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Answer the question, Sera!" he snapped, his tone laced with fury. "Stop dodging it!"

Sera’s eyes narrowed, a flare of irritation breaking her mask. But she didn’t lose her composure. Instead, she stood there, motionless, her expression as calm as marble. When she spoke, her words were deliberate, measured, as though she weighed every syllable against the consequences they might bring.

"What does it matter now?" she said, her voice smooth but hollow.

Adam staggered back, as though she had struck him. The room seemed to shift, the walls closing in on him. Her words echoed in his mind, repeating over and over until they became a cacophony of pain.

What does it matter now?

It mattered. It mattered because everything he had done—everything he had sacrificed—had been built on a lie. He had suffered for them, bled for them, killed for them. He had followed their commands, torn apart his own heart and soul, all in the name of something greater. And now, it was meaningless.

"I killed them," Adam choked, his voice breaking. He wasn’t even sure who he was speaking to anymore. The room? Himself? Sera?

"I killed my children—my babies—because you told me it was righteous. I slaughtered them in your name, for your so-called Heaven. I destroyed what I loved most in this world because you said it was the only way. And you knew. You knew there was another way."

Sera’s gaze didn’t waver, but there was something colder in her now, something detached.

Cain. Abel.

His boys.

He had loved them more than anything, and he had lost them. Not to some grand, righteous purpose, but to a lie. He thought of the animals he had once cherished, slaughtered so his family could survive. He thought of Eve, of how he had stayed after the apple—how he had forgiven her, because he thought there was still something worth saving. He thought of the sinners, of the lives he had destroyed, of the souls he had condemned to oblivion.

And Cain. Oh, Cain. His firstborn. His child who had stumbled and sinned, who had needed only love to find his way back. Cain could have been redeemed. His soul could have been saved. But Sera had lied. They had all lied. Heaven had wanted blood, not redemption, and Adam had been their willing executioner.

The realization broke him.

Adam’s trembling turned to fury, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as his voice rose, shaking with a power he had never allowed himself to wield.

"You knew!" he bellowed, the force of his words slamming into Sera like a physical blow. "You knew they could be saved! And you still sent me to slaughter them. My children! My babies, Sera!"

Sera flinched for the first time, her composure faltering as his words hit her like shards of glass. She opened her mouth to respond, but Adam wasn’t finished. He took a step toward her, his face a storm of anguish and rage.

"You made me an executioner!" he roared, his voice cracking with the weight of his pain. "You sent me to lead those exterminations—to butcher souls that could have been redeemed. You forced me to do it. You held my faith against me, twisted it into a blade, and drove it through everything I loved!"

"Adam, please!" Sera’s voice, usually so commanding, was soft now, almost pleading. Her expression, for the first time since she had turned her back on him, cracked. "It wasn’t for nothing! You—you did well, Adam. You did everything Heaven asked of you. You fought for us, protected us. I—I saw what you did, and I—"

"Don’t you dare!" Adam’s voice was a thunderclap, silencing her. He took another step forward, his face pale, his eyes blazing with a cold fire. "Don’t you dare try to tell me now, after all this time, that it meant something! You’re only saying it because I’m biting back. You never cared, Sera. None of you did! I was nothing to you!"

Sera recoiled as though he had struck her, but Adam didn’t stop. He was trembling, his breaths ragged as the weight of his fury and despair crashed over him.

"How could you do it?" he demanded, his voice breaking. "How could you look at me—at the man who trusted you, who loved you—and force that onto me? You knew the truth! You knew souls could be redeemed, but you still sent me down there! You made me the monster!"

He paused, his words catching in his throat as a new horror dawned on him. His face went white, the fire in his eyes dimming into a cold, empty abyss. Slowly, he looked down at his bruised, blood-stained hands.

"I have so much blood on my hands because of you," He whispered, his voice barely audible. "I killed them. I killed my babies in your name—for Heaven. And all this time, they could have been saved? I could have done something—anything else—to help them?"

His knees almost buckled as he looked back up at Sera, his expression one of pure, unfiltered anguish. His voice was a broken plea, trembling with the last threads of hope he didn’t even realize he still held.

"Tell me it’s not true. Please, Sera. Tell me sinners can’t be redeemed. Tell me I didn’t kill them for nothing."

Sera’s lips parted, but no words came. Her eyes shimmered with something that could have been regret—or maybe just shame. She hesitated for a moment too long, and Adam’s heart sank. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, filled with sorrow.

"They always could have been redeemed," she admitted, each word striking Adam like a hammer. "But we couldn’t risk it. Not all souls can be saved, Adam. Some are too corrupt, too depraved. Just one twisted soul slipping into Heaven could—could stain it forever. We were protecting—"

"Protecting yourselves?" Charlie snapped, her voice sharp and cutting. Adam’s head turned to her, but she was glaring at Sera, her usual optimism replaced with anger. "You always act like sinners are out to get you! Like they don’t deserve another chance just because they’re not perfect!"

Lucifer, silent until now, bared his teeth, his voice low and venomous.

"You turned Heaven into a fortress of cowards," he growled. "Sacrificing those who needed you most just to keep your hands clean."

Even Emily, usually so loyal, crossed her arms and looked away, disappointment written across her face. "You made us believe we were helping them," she said softly, her voice heavy with disillusionment.

Sera gasped; her composure fully shattered. She looked at Emily with wide, desperate eyes.

"You don’t understand," she pleaded. "You haven’t seen the most corrupted souls, the depraved things they’ve done. They would destroy everything we’ve built—"

"Of course, they’re corrupted and depraved!" Adam cut her off, his voice rising again. "What did you expect, Sera? What did you think would happen when Heaven wasn’t there to guide them? When you turned your back on them the moment they stumbled?!"

Sera stared at him, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for a response. But Adam wasn’t done.

"What did you expect?!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "You wanted me to keep a garden alive with poison! Are you crazy?!"

The room was silent, the weight of Adam’s words settling over them like a storm cloud. Sera’s lips trembled, her once-unshakable authority crumbling in the face of his fury.

Adam took a step back, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. He was done. He had nothing left to give.

"Maybe the sinners weren’t the monsters," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "Maybe it was us all along."

Sera’s lips parted, trembling as if she had something left to say, but the words never came. The room was unbearably still, the silence dense and suffocating, broken only by Adam’s laboured breaths. His shoulders heaved, his head bowed as though the weight of the truth was finally crushing him.

For a long moment, no one dared to speak. Even Lucifer, whose rage burned hotter than anyone’s, seemed caught in the aftershock of Adam’s words. Emily shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting between Sera and Adam, her usual certainty replaced by something fragile.

Finally, it was Charlie who stepped forward. Her voice was quiet but firm, trembling only slightly as she looked directly at Sera.

"You used him," she said, each word like a needle threading through the silence. "You used all of us. And for what? To keep Heaven safe? Or to keep yourselves comfortable?"

Sera flinched, but her expression hardened again, a spark of defiance returning to her eyes. "You think this is easy?" she snapped, her voice cracking under the strain. "You think it’s simple to make these decisions? To decide who deserves salvation and who doesn’t? We were trying to protect everything! If just one irredeemable soul made it into Heaven, it could have unravelled everything we built—"

"Everything you built," Lucifer interrupted, his voice a low snarl. "Don’t pretend this was about the greater good. You built a Heaven where only the ‘perfect’ were allowed, and you left the rest of us to rot. You called us sinners and cast us out, and when we begged for mercy, you sent Adam to slaughter us. Don’t stand there and call it protection. Call it what it is: selfishness."

"You don’t understand!" Sera shot back, her voice rising, desperation seeping into her words. "You’ve never seen the worst of them! The ones who—who delight in their corruption, who revel in destruction. Those souls can’t be saved!"

"Of course they revel in it!" Adam’s voice cut through hers like a blade. He stepped forward again, his fists clenched, his eyes burning with a fury that made even Lucifer glance at him uneasily. "You abandoned them, Sera! You left them in the dark and called them monsters when they stumbled. What did you expect?!"

Sera froze, her breath catching in her throat. Adam’s words hung heavy in the air, each syllable hammering against the walls of her certainty.

"You wanted me to be your executioner," Adam continued, his voice shaking but relentless. "You gave me a sword and told me it was holy. You told me I was saving them, but I wasn’t. I was condemning them. I was killing them. You made me a butcher, and you called it righteous."

He looked down at his hands again, the bruises and scars seeming deeper now, etched into his skin like a permanent reminder. His voice dropped, trembling with raw, unfiltered grief.

"I have so much blood on my hands," he whispered. "Because of you. I killed my babies. I killed them for Heaven. For you. And they could have been saved."

His voice broke on the last word, and he stumbled back, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. He looked up at Sera again, his eyes wide with disbelief, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I could have done something else," he said, his voice barely audible. "I could have helped them. I could have—"

He stopped, shaking his head as though trying to banish the thought. "How could you do this to me? How could you do this to them?"

Sera opened her mouth, but no words came. Her hands trembled at her sides, her usually composed demeanour shattered. For the first time, she looked afraid—not of Adam, but of the truth he had forced her to face.

"You lied to me," Adam said, his voice rising again, a raw edge of desperation creeping into his tone. "You lied! You told me I was saving them. You told me I was doing the right thing. And all this time, it was a lie. I killed them, Sera! I killed them, and it was for nothing!"

"It wasn’t for nothing!" Sera’s voice cracked as she finally found the strength to speak. "Adam, please, listen to me—everything you did, everything we asked of you, it was all to protect Heaven. You—"

"Protect Heaven?" Charlie interrupted, her voice sharp and cold in a way Adam had never heard before. "From what? From people who needed help? From souls who needed someone to show them the way? You didn’t protect Heaven. You turned it into a cage."

Emily, usually the first to defend Sera, crossed her arms and looked away. "You always act like the sinners are waiting to pull us down with them. But they’re not. They’re just… lost."

Sera turned to her, her expression one of disbelief.

"You don’t understand," she said, her voice trembling. "You haven’t seen the worst of them. You haven’t seen the depravity, the corruption. If even one soul like that slipped into Heaven—"

"Then maybe Heaven isn’t as strong as you think," Lucifer said, his tone icy.

Sera’s eyes widened, her breath hitching as she looked around the room, at the faces of those who had once stood by her side. Even Emily wasn’t meeting her gaze anymore.

Adam shook his head, his voice quiet but laced with fury.

"What did you expect, Sera?" he asked. "What did you think would happen when you turned your back on them? When you left them to rot and then called them monsters for what they became?"

He stepped closer to her, his voice rising again, each word dripping with venom. "You wanted me to keep a garden alive with poison. Are you crazy?"

Sera said nothing, her silence louder than any argument she could have made.

Adam took a step back, his hands falling limply to his sides. He looked at her one last time, his gaze filled with a mixture of rage, sorrow, and something that looked almost like pity.

Adam’s laugh came first, sharp and humourless, breaking the tense silence in the room. It wasn’t a laugh of joy, but something jagged, almost painful. His eyes burned as he stared at Sera, who now stood frozen, her hands trembling at her sides.

"Did it all mean nothing?" Adam’s voice cracked as he gestured wildly, his movements frantic. "All of it—everything I did, everything I gave—was it all for nothing?!"

Sera’s lips parted, but no words came.

"You don’t understand what you’ve done to me," Adam continued, his voice rising, his anger giving way to despair. He turned to Lucifer, pointing at him like an accusation. "You were supposed to be my guardian archangel! God created you for me! Do you remember that? You were supposed to protect me, guide me—and look what you did to me!"

Lucifer’s eyes widened, his mouth opening as if to protest, but Adam didn’t give him the chance.

"When Lilith was created, I didn’t understand. She frightened me, Lucifer!" Adam’s voice cracked, tears threatening to spill over as he relived memories, he’d spent centuries trying to bury. "But all of you—you pushed me towards her! You told me it was my duty to care for her, to make her feel comfortable and safe. To make her feel loved."

His voice turned bitter, almost a snarl. "To breed with her despite how much she scared and hurt me."

Lucifer flinched, his usually impassive face breaking with something that looked like regret.

"And then you took her away!" Adam roared, his voice shaking with betrayal. "You pushed me towards her, told me to love her, and then you ripped her away from me! And when she was gone, Heaven gave me Eve! Like I was some kind of pet that needed a new toy to play with!"

Emily gasped softly, and Charlie’s glare shot toward Lucifer, her eyes narrowing as if seeing him clearly for the first time. Lucifer, for all his charm and arrogance, looked down, his expression wide-eyed and shaken, as though he hadn’t truly realized the weight of Adam’s words until now.

"Eve was supposed to be perfect," Adam said bitterly, his voice trembling. "But she bit the apple. She gave in. And we were cast out because of it. I was cast out because of it! I didn’t eat the apple! I didn’t break the rules! So why was I punished for her actions?"

He turned back to Sera, his eyes wild and desperate. "You knew. You all knew! Lilith wanted to explore the earth. She dreamed of it. She wanted the world. And instead of letting her have it, you banished her to Hell! And she got everything she wanted there! She became a queen while I was cast into the world she wanted—a world I hated!”

“And for what?!" His voice broke, his hands trembling as he gestured to himself. "What did I do, Sera? What crime did I commit other than existing?"

Sera opened her mouth, her hands raising slightly, but no sound came. Adam’s voice cracked again as he stumbled forward, his knees almost giving out beneath him.

"And you…I had nobody, but…but I thought I had you…" His voice softened, raw and broken, as he looked her in the eyes. "I loved you, Sera. I looked up to you. You were the only one who didn’t treat me like a thing. You were the only one who didn’t look at me like I was some… some tool. I saw you as my mother."

Charlie and Emily gasped, and Adam could feel their shock, but he didn’t care. His eyes never left Sera’s, his tears finally spilling over as his voice cracked.

"You were supposed to care about me. You were supposed to love me."

Sera’s composure shattered completely. Her wings spread wide, glowing faintly as tears began streaming down her cheeks. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her words barely more than a whisper.

"I do love you, Adam," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "Like a son. I always have."

Adam laughed, but it was hollow, heart-wrenching, like the last gasp of a dying flame. He shook his head, his tears falling freely now.

"No," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You don’t. You’re only saying that now because I’m biting back. Because I’m no longer the obedient little puppet you wanted me to be."

"That’s not true!" Sera’s voice rose in desperation, her wings trembling as they began to shine brighter. "Adam, please, I can make this right! I can fix this! You can come back to Heaven. You can—"

"Why now, Sera?" Adam interrupted, his voice breaking into a scream. "Why the sudden change of heart? Is there something else you want from me? Is that it?!"

Sera flinched, her tears falling faster, but she said nothing.

Adam shook his head, his laughter turning bitter again. "I’m done, Sera. I’m done with Heaven. I’m done with Hell. I’m done with Earth. I’m done with the Winners, Sinners, humans! I’m done with everything."

His voice dropped, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world was finally too much to bear. "There’s nothing left for me anymore. Nothing."

He looked up at her one last time, his gaze hollow and broken.

"I would tell you to go to Hell," he said softly, his voice trembling, "but since that’s the only place left for me, I don’t want you there."

His words hung in the air, a haunting echo that seemed to sap the room of all its warmth. Adam laughed again, a pathetic, broken sound, as he muttered to himself.

"I just wanted…"

His voice trailed off, the words caught in his throat, and he stood there for a moment, silent and still, before pushing himself up from the table.

Every eye was on him as he walked away, his steps slow and heavy, each one dragging him further from the shattered pieces of the life he once believed in.

Adam didn’t know where he was going…he was just going to let his feet led him somewhere.

…anywhere was better than here…

~#~

The corridors of the palace shook with the sheer force of Charlie’s rage. Her hair whipped wildly around her face, untamed and alive, as though it carried the storm brewing within her. Her horns, usually small and unobtrusive, had grown and twisted like jagged thorns, and her red eyes glowed with a bloodthirsty fire that made even the air around her feel dangerous.

The second she and Lucifer stepped out of the meeting hall, she spun on him, her voice a roar that echoed down the gilded halls.

"Why didn’t you say anything?!"

Lucifer stumbled back, taken completely off guard by the ferocity in her tone. "Charlie, please, I don’t—"

"Don’t you dare!" she cut him off, her arm thrashing out. A violent gust of wind tore through the corridor, rattling the chandeliers and extinguishing several lanterns. Shadows danced on the walls, their jagged shapes mimicking the chaos inside her.

"You lied!" Charlie screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "You lie, and you lie, and you lie! Mum hurt him! You treated him like a pet! Heaven used him! Of course, Adam would be lost and broken! What the fuck did you expect?!"

Lucifer’s mouth opened, but no words came. His normally unshakable composure faltered, his crimson eyes wide as he watched his daughter unravel before him.

"You spread those lies," Charlie hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and betrayal. "You and Mum spread them. Everything you told me about Eden—about Adam—it was all lies, wasn’t it?"

Her voice cracked, the realization hitting her like a blow to the chest. "Lilith told everyone he was a monster. That he was dominating. Abusive. That he treated her horribly. But it was all bullshit, wasn’t it?"

Lucifer hesitated, and that hesitation was answer enough.

Charlie laughed, a hollow, disbelieving sound that was more heartbreaking than anything else. "That textbook I loved so much, the one about Eden? About Adam and Lilith?"

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "It’s all bullshit."

Lucifer reached out, his voice soft. "Charlie, it’s not that simple—"

"Don’t!" she snarled, stepping back as though his touch burned. Her horns glinted menacingly in the dim light, and her glowing eyes narrowed into slits.

"Don’t you dare try to explain this away! He was your charge! Adam was your responsibility! You were supposed to guide him, protect him. You were supposed to be his friend! But you didn’t even like him, did you?!"

Lucifer’s face twisted with pain, but Charlie wasn’t done.

"You never cared about him. You only ever saw him as a toy, something to entertain you for a while. And Mum?" Her voice turned sharp and bitter, filled with an ache that was almost unbearable. "She hurt him. She frightened him. And you let her!"

"Charlie," Lucifer started again, his voice pleading now, but she cut him off with a scream that shook the walls.

"You let her hurt him, and then you had the nerve to make him the bad guy? To spread disgusting rumours about him in Hell? You made him out to be some monster when the whole time, it was you and Mum who—" She stopped, her voice breaking, and for a moment, her rage gave way to something else. Something darker. Something more devastating.

Charlie’s voice dropped, trembling with disbelief. "How am I supposed to save anyone? How am I supposed to teach sinners that there’s good in the world, that there’s hope, when I come from you two?"

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat. He opened his mouth to protest, but her next words hit him like a dagger.

"You were supposed to believe in him," she hissed, her sharp teeth clenched as her voice wavered. "You could see his soul! Out of anyone, you should’ve known the truth! But instead, you believed Mum. You believed her lies."

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "And you think Adam should give you a chance now? After everything you’ve done to him?!"

Her laughter died in her throat, replaced by a hollow silence that made Lucifer’s chest ache.

"I knew Mum wasn’t a good person," Charlie said quietly, her voice trembling. "But this… this is beyond anything I could’ve imagined."

Lucifer stood there, speechless, as Charlie’s words hung in the air. For the first time in millennia, the King of Hell didn’t have a single thing to say.

Charlie’s shoulders sagged, the fire in her hair flickering and slowly falling back down to her shoulders, cascading like molten gold. Though her rage still simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over again, she forced herself to steady her breaths. She looked at Lucifer, her red eyes duller now but no less piercing.

"You really think Adam should give you—a single one of you—a chance?" she asked, her voice low and trembling, carrying the weight of disbelief and heartbreak.

Lucifer flinched, as though her words were physical blows.

Charlie shook her head, her gaze unfocused as if she were looking through him, seeing something far beyond. "No one ever gave him a second chance. Hell, he didn’t even get a first chance. He was set up to fail from the very beginning. And you—"

Her voice cracked, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed on. "You let it happen. You let him drown while everyone else held his head underwater."

Lucifer’s mouth opened, but no words came. What could he say to that?

Charlie took a shuddering breath, her hands trembling at her sides. "Every time… every fucking time," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "He was thrown into a situation he didn’t understand. Eden? He didn’t ask for that. Lilith? He didn’t ask for her either. And when she frightened him—when she terrified him—you pushed him toward her anyway. Told him it was his ‘duty.’ Told him to make her comfortable, to breed with her like he was some fucking stud animal."

Lucifer flinched again, but Charlie didn’t stop.

"And when Lilith left—when she chose to leave—Heaven gave him Eve," she continued, bitterness dripping from every word. "And when Eve bit the apple, when she made the choice to fall, they punished him. They threw him into a world he didn’t want, a world he hated. And for what? Because he followed their rules? Because he did everything, they, no, you asked of him?"

Her voice rose slightly, the anger returning in sharp bursts. "He never wanted any of it! Not Eden. Not Lilith. Not Eve. Not Earth. But you—all of you—kept telling him it was his purpose. That he was special. That he mattered. But he didn’t, did he?"

Her voice cracked, and her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He never mattered. Not to you. Not to Heaven. Not to anyone."

Lucifer tried to reach out to her again, his hand trembling slightly. "Charlie, I—"

"Don’t." She stepped back, her voice cold and cutting. "Don’t try to defend yourself. You can’t. Not after what I just saw. Not after hearing him."

She looked at him then, truly looked at him, and Lucifer felt exposed under the weight of her gaze.

"He saw you as his guardian angel," she said quietly, her words soft but no less devastating. "He thought you were supposed to protect him. He thought God created you for him. But you didn’t protect him, did you?"

Lucifer said nothing, his jaw tightening as his daughter’s words bore into him.

"You didn’t care about him," Charlie continued, her voice trembling but unwavering. "Not as a person. Not as someone with hopes and fears and a soul. You saw him as a pet. A tool. Something to be used and then discarded when you got bored."

Tears streamed down her face now, but she didn’t wipe them away. "And Mum…"

She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and broken. "Mum hurt him. Terrified him. Lied about him. Spread stories to make him out to be some kind of monster when he was the victim all along. And you let her. You let her!"

Lucifer looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

Charlie laughed again, shaking her head. "And you think Adam should give you a chance now? After everything? After you betrayed him? After you helped Heaven destroy him?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less sharp. "He never even had a chance. Not one. Not from the very beginning. He was fucked over in the worst way possible, over and over and over again. And now, after all of that, you expect him to forgive you? To forgive any of us?"

Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists. "I don’t even know if I can forgive you," she admitted, her voice breaking. "Because I look at you, and I see everything he went through. Everything you let him go through. And it makes me sick."

Lucifer stood frozen, his face pale, his usually commanding presence diminished under the weight of his daughter’s words.

Charlie turned away from him, her shoulders still shaking with emotion.

"I thought I knew you," she said softly, more to herself than to him. "I thought you were better than this. But maybe I was wrong."

She started to walk away, her steps heavy and uneven. For the first time in her life, she didn’t look back.

Lucifer stood there, alone in the darkened corridor, the silence around him louder than any scream.

~#~

Adam stumbled blindly across the jagged terrain of Hell, his footsteps dragging as if the weight of his existence bore down on his every move. The landscape blurred before his dull, grey eyes, the fiery hues of Hell’s endless expanse melting into a haze of indistinguishable red and black. His mind buzzed with a relentless hum, a cruel, unending cacophony of white noise that drowned out everything else.

"I don’t matter." The thought pulsed through him like a hammer striking an anvil, over and over until it became a chant. "Everything I did was for nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing."

His legs gave out, buckling beneath him, and he collapsed to his knees, the impact jarring but hollow, like everything else. His hands fell limply into his lap as his gaze fixated on nothing. He blinked wide-eyed at the waxy red ground beneath him, his lips parting but forming no words. What was left to say? What was left to feel?

"Nothing."

He’d lost Eden—his first home, his sanctuary—for nothing. He’d stayed by Eve’s side on Earth, despite her betrayal, for nothing. He’d lost Abel, his sweet boy, his gentle son—for nothing. He’d punished Cain, condemned him to roam the earth in torment, for nothing. And all his other children, his babies, slaughtered in cold blood because they made mistakes, because Heaven deemed them unworthy. And it had all been for nothing.

His breath hitched as the thought burrowed deeper, carving a pit inside him so vast it felt bottomless. What was the point of any of this? His wings twitched behind him, the cold creeping into the delicate feathers, turning their once radiant sheen into something dull and lifeless. The chill spread, burrowing into his flesh, gnawing at his bones until it began to burn.

Adam cradled his head in his hands, feeling a crushing pressure at the back of his skull, like a vice tightening around his mind. His body trembled, but he couldn’t stop himself. His hands slipped down to the ground, shaking as they hovered over the molten surface of Hell’s floor.

His breath was shallow and uneven, his voice barely a whisper.

“Eden,” he muttered, his voice cracking as he spoke the word like a prayer. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his soul, his heart clawing desperately for the memory of the garden he once called home.

He tried to summon it—tried to pull himself back to that place of comfort and warmth. He imagined the flowers swaying gently under Eden’s sky, their colours so vibrant they felt alive. He envisioned the lush green grass beneath his bare feet, the canopy of trees whispering in the breeze, the sunlight that bathed the garden in a golden glow. The warmth, the peace, the love that Eden had once held for him.

Adam’s hands pressed into the ground, his fingers curling into fists as he strained, begged for the vision to become real. His wings trembled as he poured what little remained of his soul into this desperate wish. His eyes fluttered open, heavy with exhaustion and hope.

Nothing.

The ground before him was barren. No flowers. No trees. No warmth. Just the same lifeless expanse of Hell’s scorched, unforgiving terrain.

Adam’s chest heaved as the reality crushed him further, his breath escaping in shallow gasps.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice quivering as tears pooled in his eyes. “Why can’t I even have that?”

The coldness in his chest churned, swirling violently until it felt like it would tear him apart from the inside. He clawed at the ground, his nails scraping against the unyielding surface as sobs racked his body.

He had spent his entire existence in Heaven’s shadow, in everyone’s shadow—Lucifer, Lilith, Eve, Sera—all of them towering over him, dictating his every move, his every thought. He was a prisoner behind the pearly gates, never free, never allowed to think for himself. He was Heaven’s obedient servant, Sera’s dutiful pawn, bending to her every whim, her every call.

Adam let out a hollow laugh, the sound cracking like brittle glass.

“I never wanted to disappoint you, Sera,” he muttered, his voice thick with bitterness and grief. “Never.”

His lips trembled as the tears fell freely now, carving paths down his dirtied face. His mind drifted to the lonely days he spent in Heaven, talking to the clouds because no one else would listen. He had grown flowers, nurtured them, whispered to them, poured his heart into the petals and stems because they were the only things that didn’t judge him, the only things that didn’t demand something from him. He’d spoken to the walls of Heaven, his words bouncing back to him in the emptiness.

“I loved you,” he whispered to no one, his voice barely audibles over the distant rumble of Hell’s inferno. “I loved all of you.”

His body shook as he curled into himself, his wings folding tightly around him like a broken cocoon. His tears dripped onto the ground, evaporating into nothingness, just like everything else in his life.

For a moment, there was only silence—thick, suffocating silence.

Then, softly, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, “You don’t have to do this anymore.”

Adam froze, his breath catching. The voice wasn’t Sera’s. It wasn’t Lucifer’s. It wasn’t anyone he recognized. It was soft, gentle, and unfamiliar.

But it wasn’t Heaven’s voice.

And for the first time, that thought didn’t fill him with fear.

Adam’s mind spiraled as the memories clawed at him. The image of Lucifer shimmered in his thoughts—the very first time he had laid eyes on the archangel. Lucifer had descended from the heavens, gliding through sunbeams that seemed to cling to him like a golden halo. His curls, brilliant and soft, caught the light, glowing as if spun from threads of sunlight itself. His piercing blue eyes had shone with a radiance that made Adam’s heart stutter. Back then, Adam didn’t understand what he was feeling—the tightness in his chest, the heat blooming across his face. He’d hunched his shoulders, awkward and timid, unsure why his skin prickled and his stomach churned as Lucifer stood before him.

He had thought, in that moment, that Lucifer was the most beautiful being he would ever see.

At first, Lucifer had been everything Adam could have dreamed of and more. He was kind, gentle, and so endlessly charming that Adam had been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. When God introduced Lucifer and declared his purpose—to guide and protect Adam—Lucifer had smiled, and Adam remembered how his chest swelled with something warm and unfamiliar. Lucifer had seemed happy then. Or at least Adam had believed so.

But was it ever real? Were there truly happy moments in Eden, or had Adam been a fool, blinded by hope and desperation? His silver eyes dulled further, sagging into his sunken face as he sank deeper into the waxy red ground of Hell. The memories swirled in his mind like a storm, tearing him apart from the inside. When had Lucifer started to hate me?

Adam had always blamed Lilith—her strength, her wildness, the way she frightened and challenged him. He had thought that Lucifer’s disdain had grown from there, as Lilith’s presence had come between them. But now, centuries later, with the clarity of loss and his time as a sinner, Adam could see the cracks had formed long before Lilith. Long before Eve.

He closed his eyes, his voice a rasp. “Lucifer didn’t like me even then, did he?”

The realization felt like a blade through his chest. Lilith was gone. Eve was somewhere far from this forsaken place. And now, Adam was the only remnant of Eden that remained. The last piece of a puzzle long broken. Did Lucifer care about him now? No, it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t care. He wouldn’t. Adam was nothing more than a ghost of the past—a reminder of everything Lucifer had rejected.

“Lucifer’s just lonely,” Adam murmured bitterly, his voice cracking. “That’s all this is. He doesn’t care about me. He never did. He just—he just doesn’t want to be alone. It’s all manipulation.” His bruised hands trembled as they clenched into fists. He looked at them, then at the darkness around him. “How… how can I ever believe Lucifer again? How can I ever trust him?”

A voice cut through the silence, smooth as silk, sharp as broken glass. “You really can’t.”

Adam jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as he twisted around, his body sluggish and weak. His red-rimmed eyes darted to the shadows slithering behind him, shifting and twisting like living things. A figure emerged—a woman, pale as moonlight, her skin smooth and white as polished bone. Her hair was black as smoke, cascading behind her like tendrils of fire tipped with auburn embers.

Her mouth stretched into a jagged grin, rows of needle-like teeth glinting in the dim, hellish light. Her eyes were a striking reversal of Lucifer’s—a menacing red sclera surrounding piercing white irises, their pupils so small they seemed almost non-existent. Burgundy eyeshadow framed those strange, predatory eyes, and dark veins crawled like ink down her neck and shackled arms.

Adam’s body froze as he stared at her. He wanted to move, to push himself away from this eerie, unrecognizable being, but his legs refused to obey. He felt like he was sinking further into Hell’s molten embrace, trapped in the suffocating grip of despair.

“W-Who are you?” he stammered, his voice trembling with both fear and exhaustion.

The demoness tilted her head, her movements smooth and serpentine. She stepped closer, her bare feet gliding over the ground, her chains rattling softly. Her face was blank, her expression devoid of warmth or malice, but her eyes… there was something in them. Something Adam couldn’t place but felt deep in his gut.

His gaze narrowed, his brow furrowing as he stared at her pointed face, her hair drifting like smoke in the still air. There was something familiar about her, something that made his stomach twist in recognition.

And then it hit him.

“E-Eve?” he wheezed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman stilled, her blackened lips curling into a faint, humourless smile.

“I go by Roo now,” she replied, her tone quiet but firm.

“Roo?” Adam repeated, his brow creasing further. “Like… root? Or something?”

Roo’s sharp grin widened, amusement flickering in her strange, hollow eyes.

“You always were good at names,” she said, her voice dripping with dry sarcasm. “Yes, Adam. Like root. Or something.”

Her tone darkened, her grin twisting into something far more menacing. “Like the root of all chaos. Of evil. Of pain and suffering.”

Adam frowned, his expression twisting in disapproval. “That’s… that’s an awful name.”

Roo snorted, a low, mocking laugh escaping her lips.

“I guess you could say that too,” she said, her voice thick with irony. “But it suits me, doesn’t it? After all, isn’t that what I’ve always been? The root of it all?”

Her words hit Adam like a blow, and he stared at her, the weight of recognition settling over him. This wasn’t the Eve he had once known. This was someone else entirely—a twisted reflection of what she had become. And yet, she stood before him, a reminder of everything he had lost, everything he had endured, and everything he could never take back.

“Why… why are you here?” he asked weakly, his voice barely holding together. “Why are you this?”

Roo’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded him. For a moment, the chains around her wrists glinted in the dim light, their presence a quiet reminder of her own torment.

“Why do you think, Adam?” she asked, her voice soft but cutting. “Because this is what happens when you play their games. When you follow their rules.”

Adam’s breath hitched, his hands trembling as her words sank in. He looked away, unable to meet her gaze any longer. Her presence was a mirror he couldn’t bear to face, a reflection of the choices he had made, the lies he had believed, and the endless cycle of suffering that defined them both.

Adam's breath caught in his throat, his body trembling as the weight of Roo's words settled over him like a crushing tide. He stared at her, unblinking, his silver eyes wide with disbelief and horror.

"You… you never made it to Heaven?" His voice was fragile, barely audible. "I waited for you, Roo. I waited for centuries."

Roo’s expression twisted, her amusement fading into something cold and bitter. She folded her arms over her chest, her chains rattling faintly as she narrowed her sharp, inhuman eyes. "Waited for me, did you?" she said with a mocking lilt. "How sweet. But no, Adam, I never made it to Heaven."

Her lips curled back into a sneer, her words dripping with venom. "I was tainted, Adam. Sinful. No matter how much I grovelled, no matter how much I begged and repented for the things I did on Earth—it didn’t matter. They didn’t want me."

Adam flinched as if struck, his hands clutching at the ground beneath him. The waxy surface felt sticky, clinging to his trembling fingers as though Hell itself refused to let him go. He swallowed hard, his throat tight as he asked, "W-What happened to you? Why… why do you look like this?"

Roo laughed sharply, a sound that sent shivers down Adam’s spine. She spread her pale, shackled arms wide, her black veins gleaming faintly under Hell’s dim, pulsing light.

 "Oh, come now, Adam," she said with mock cheer. "Do I really look that bad?"

She took a step closer, her movements unnervingly smooth. "This is what happens when you’re not Heaven’s favourite."

Adam’s brow furrowed, his expression crumpling with guilt and pain. He shook his head slowly. "I’m… I’m not anyone’s favourite either."

Roo snorted, her dark lips pulling into a humourless smile.

"Oh, you’re right about that," she said, her voice cutting. "You’re not anyone’s favourite. Not even a second choice, Adam."

Adam winced, the words stabbing into him like a knife. He dropped his gaze to the ground, his vision swimming as shame and grief coiled around his chest.

Roo’s tone turned mocking, her voice like a serpent’s hiss as she closed the distance between them. "Do you really believe, even for a second, that Lucifer actually liked you? Let alone loved you?"

Her words were sharper now, crueller, as she took another step forward. "You can’t, Adam. You can’t trust a snake like him. All he does is deceive and manipulate to get what he wants."

Adam’s hands curled into fists, trembling as tears welled in his eyes. He wanted to deny her words, to fight back, but deep down, he couldn’t. The doubt had already taken root, festering and spreading like a poison.

Roo’s smirk widened as she saw his hesitation. She leaned closer, her black lips pulling into a sharp grin as her long fingers brushed against his hair. Adam flinched at the touch, but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t.

"You’re starting to see him for what he really is," Roo murmured, her voice low and venomous. "You’ve done well not to believe him, Adam. Don’t start now."

Adam’s vision blurred as tears spilled down his cheeks, his chest tightening painfully. He looked up at Roo, his gaze flickering as memories of her old self filled his mind. He saw her as she used to be—her vibrant red curls, her warm amber eyes, her freckled face that had always been so full of life. This creature standing before him was nothing like that woman.

His voice trembled as he spoke. "Why… why do you look so different? Is this because of the apple?"

Roo’s laughter rang out, loud and unrestrained, echoing through the hellish terrain. She leaned back, her chains rattling as she clutched her sides.

"Ahh, yes," she said, her tone dripping with mockery. "That wonderful night. The apple of knowledge, offered so sweetly by Lucifer and Lilith."

Adam bit his bottom lip, his head shaking weakly. "You… you shouldn’t have eaten it."

Roo shrugged, a careless smirk playing on her lips. "Perhaps not," she said, her voice casual. "But it led to… new things. New experiences."

Adam frowned, his brow furrowing as unease crept over him. "What… what do you mean by that?"

Roo tilted her head, her grin widening into something sickening. Her black lips parted to reveal her needle-like teeth as she stared at him, her gaze glinting with malicious glee.

"Oh, Adam," she purred. "Like I said, Lucifer never liked you. You weren’t anyone’s first—or second—choice."

Adam’s mouth went dry, his stomach twisting violently. His body tensed, and his voice wavered as he asked, "W-What are you saying? What… what do you mean?"

Roo’s eyes gleamed with delight at his discomfort. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The apple of knowledge woke me up, Adam. It opened my eyes to the world, to things I never could have seen before. It awakened… desires."

Her grin grew sharper, more predatory. "Oh, Adam. I was so hungry. And I needed to be satisfied."

Adam’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as dread clawed at his heart. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, as her words sank in like daggers.

Roo leaned closer, her voice dripping with glee as she delivered the final blow.

"Lucifer and I," she said, her tone almost gleeful. "We slept together. Under the tree. And Lilith joined us. It was such a… passionate night."

Adam’s head jerked to the side, his silver eyes wide and unfocused as the words echoed in his mind.

Lucifer slept with Eve.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, and his vision blurred as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"C-Cain?" he whispered weakly, his voice breaking. "You… you were pregnant so soon after leaving Eden…"

Roo burst into laughter, the sound cruel and sharp.

"What do you think, Addie?" she sneered. "He didn’t look anything like us, did he? And when he murdered Abel… you really should’ve figured it out then!"

Adam’s heart shattered, the pieces falling away into the void as he clutched at his chest. His sobs were silent, his entire body shaking as the truth consumed him. He had lost everything, and now even his past was nothing but a twisted lie.

Cain wasn’t his.

Roo’s laughter echoed in the suffocating expanse of Hell, sharp and venomous. Her mocking eyes danced with cruel delight as she leaned closer to Adam, her smoky hair billowing around her like a serpent’s coils.

"Oh, Adam," she sneered, her needle-like teeth glinting as she grinned. "You really thought he would ever want you? Lucifer? The Morning Star? Have you looked at yourself lately?"

Adam didn’t answer, his silver eyes fixed on the waxy ground beneath him.

Roo crouched down, tilting her head to force her sickening grin into his line of sight.

"Back in Eden, you were something, at least to look at," she continued, her voice dripping with mockery. "Lush brown hair, bright green eyes, perfect tanned skin. You were beautiful then, Adam—practically glowing. And now?"

She gestured to him with a flourish, her chains rattling. "Look at you. Weak, broken, pathetic. You’ve let yourself go. You’re nothing more than a shadow of what you were."

Adam sat motionless, his body trembling but his face emotionless, his hands resting in his lap.

"And you’re in love with him." Roo’s voice turned sharp, her eyes narrowing in disgust. "Don’t try to deny it. I knew it in Eden. I could see it in the way you looked at him, the way you blushed when he came near. It was revolting. Pathetic. How could someone like you ever think someone like him would love you back?"

She leaned closer, her grin stretching wider. "It was always pitiful to watch. And now? It’s downright ridiculous."

Adam’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his lips pressed tightly together. He said nothing, his silence fuelling Roo’s cruelty.

"You’ve always been nothing, Adam," Roo hissed, circling him slowly. "Not to Lucifer, not to Eve, not even to Lilith. Do you think they ever cared about you? Lilith left, Eve strayed, and Lucifer?"

She barked out a laugh. "He used you as his personal punchline. You weren’t even important enough to be hated properly."

Her words pierced him, but Adam didn’t flinch. The coldness inside him grew, seeping deeper into his bones, spreading like frost through his veins. His bruised hands and fingers ached as the freezing sensation intensified, burning him like ice. He clenched his fists, feeling the numbness crawl through him, consuming what little warmth remained.

Roo, delighted by his silence, pressed on.

"And your sins, Adam—oh, your sins," she drawled, circling him again. "You failed as Eden’s caretaker, failed as a husband, failed as a father. Abel? Dead. Cain? A murderer. All of your so-called ‘children’? Scattered, sinful, slaughtered. Everything you touched turned to ruin. You couldn’t even save yourself."

Still, Adam didn’t respond. His mind drifted elsewhere, to memories of Heaven, of the souls of humans on Earth, of the winners and sinners alike. He thought of Lilith, her defiance, and Eve, her betrayal. He thought of Sera’s unyielding rule, Michael’s cold judgment, and Lucifer’s deceitful smile. And through it all, he realized the truth that gnawed at his soul: he had never been important to any of them. Not truly.

The coldness within him surged, clawing at the surface, threatening to spill out.

And then, Roo’s laughter stopped.

A silence fell over the hellish expanse as Roo’s eyes widened, her mocking grin fading into an expression of confusion and unease. She staggered, her hands clutching at her chest as a sharp, piercing sensation erupted over her ribs and spread upward into her heart.

"What… what’s going on?" she breathed, her voice trembling as she backed away from Adam. Her smoky hair swirled violently; her movements frantic as her gaze darted around in panic.

Adam tilted his head, his silver eyes blank and devoid of emotion as he stared at her.

"You!" Roo hissed; her voice laced with accusation as she pointed a trembling finger at him. "What are you doing?!"

Adam didn’t respond. He simply watched her, his face expressionless, as if her suffering didn’t register.

Roo’s knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, her shoulders hunching as she clutched at her chest. The shadows around her twisted and churned, and from the centre of her torso, a jagged bloom of ice began to spread. The crystalline frost crept outward, glinting in the dim light of Hell, curling over her pale skin like the petals of a deadly flower.

"How… how are you doing this?" Roo gasped, her voice filled with fear and desperation.

Adam said nothing, his gaze cold and unwavering as he watched her struggle.

Roo’s chains rattled as she thrashed against the icy bloom, her black lips parting in a scream that never came. Her smoky hair whipped around her like a storm as she clawed at the frost overtaking her. In a final, desperate attempt, she dissolved into her shadows, vanishing into the darkness and leaving Adam alone.

He blinked slowly, lowering his gaze to his hands. The ice that had spread from Roo was now crawling outward from him, curling over the waxy ground of Hell. Frost traced intricate patterns along the surface, glinting faintly under Hell’s dim, pulsing light.

Adam clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he stared at the frost. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he moved. His legs obeyed him, lifting him from the ground. He stood slowly, straightening his back as his silver wings spread behind him.

The once-pristine feathers blackened, curling and twisting at the edges as the frost spread along their lengths. Adam’s silver eyes darkened, the light within them extinguished as an empty, hollow blackness consumed them.

Adam’s lips twisted into a cold, cruel smile as he stood amidst the creeping ice, watching it spread further across the hellish ground like a disease. His eyes were dull, empty—reflecting only the icy void within him. He tilted his head once more, a soft hum escaping his lips, the sound almost melodic against the stillness of the air.

The ice seemed to grow in response to his thoughts, stretching and curling like dark tendrils seeking to reclaim the earth beneath him. Adam’s eyes glinted as he raised a hand, twisting his wrist with a subtle flick. The ground rumbled beneath his feet, and from the barren, waxy soil before him, a jagged spike of ice shot up, gleaming in the dull light of Hell.

It rose with purpose, thick and sharp like a blade forged from the coldest frost. The crystal formation spread outward, its sharp edges catching the light, slicing through the heavy air like a weapon born of pure misery.

Adam took a step back, his gaze never leaving the shimmering spire. He was unphased by the chill that crept deeper into his bones, the frost settling along his skin like an old companion. He observed the formation for a moment longer, noting the way it sparkled, like it belonged to another world entirely, something more familiar to him—something… distant.

His silver eyes flicked upward, catching sight of the brilliant, glaring white orb above—the ball of heaven suspended in the blood-streaked sky of Hell. It was a cruel, unnatural light, casting a blinding hue that illuminated the jagged landscape. Adam’s lips curled slightly, the flicker of something bitter crossing his face.

"Interesting," he muttered under his breath, his voice low, almost inaudible, as he stared up at the celestial orb. It seemed so far away now, so unreachable. Heaven, that distant place of broken promises and shattered dreams, seemed like a lifetime ago.

What had it all been for? What was the point? Lucifer? Lilith? Heaven? Was it ever anything more than a stage for suffering? A game of manipulation? A charade for gods who had long since forgotten the meaning of love?

His eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted back to the ice, the sharp spike that had sprouted from the earth before him gleaming in the ethereal light of Hell’s sky. Let it spread, he thought coldly, the frost inside him rippling outward.

The cold had finally found a home. And as it spread, so too would the realization that no one—no one—was coming to save him. No one would ever pull him from the depths of this frozen abyss. It was all a lie.

Everything was a lie.

With a deep, steadying breath, Adam raised his hand once again, the ice beneath him cracking and shifting as more pointed structures began to rise around him, twisting upward like flowers from a garden of frost. His wings shifted slightly, the once-gleaming feathers now darkened and brittle, catching the cold in the air.

He let the silence settle around him, the ice now a blooming monument to his despair. The weight of it, the weight of everything he had lost, felt almost satisfying in its simplicity.

Interesting.

Everyone has a breaking point. It just took Adam centuries to reach his.

And he felt nothing at all.

~#~

Adam’s breath was cold as it exhaled from his chest, a chill that carried with it the weight of centuries of torment. The coldness that had burrowed deep inside him now clawed its way to the surface, no longer a whisper of despair but a roar, a force of nature that could not be ignored. Every heartbeat that once held some semblance of warmth now beat only with the promise of a reckoning. He could feel his soul shudder, the rawness of his suffering turning into something sharper—something darker. The hollow ache in his chest, the scars of every betrayal, every cruel word, every bitter laugh—they had all found their release.

This is the end of everything, he thought.

His wings, once radiant, now bristled with the icy power coursing through his veins. The blackened feathers curled and stiffened, coated with the frost that was now spreading from his very core. His fingers curled into claws, reaching toward the very sky above him, and with a thought, a snap of his will, the ice began to rise.

“Won't live in your shadow anymore Forever shut behind these doors,”

It started as a trickle, a thin line of frost slithering from his feet, but within moments, it was a flood—an avalanche of cold that tore through the heavens with a fury that could not be stopped. No more shadows, he thought, his voice silent but heavy, filled with the promise of retribution. I will not be buried in your lies any longer.

The frost spread like wildfire, creeping up the pillars of heaven’s gates, seeping into the very souls of its inhabitants. Adam’s gaze turned cold, unfeeling, as the ice began to spiral around the angels, wrapping them in its unrelenting grip. The light of their wings flickered for a brief moment, but it was no use. The frost, like a living thing, clawed at their skin, seeping into their very bones. Their wings—once symbols of grace, of divinity—wilted and froze, their feathers brittle, snapping under the pressure of the cold.

The winners of Heaven, the beings that had once basked in the glow of their purity, cried out in agony as their bodies seized up, their hearts turning to ice. They tried to fight it, their voices desperate as they reached for their divine strength, but it was futile. The ice wasn’t just consuming them—it was inside them, freezing their very essence, their souls. The frost was a living thing, a beast made from his rage, from the years of rejection and manipulation. The ice curled around their wings, encasing them in impenetrable blocks of ice, and one by one, the angels fell, their screams silenced by the cold. They hit the ground of Heaven, unmoving, their forms frozen forever in place, statues of despair.

“Imprisoned as you rule, and you dictate Pandering to your every call”

Adam’s chest rose and fell, his breath coming in jagged gasps as he revelled in the destruction, the chaos, the sweet revenge of it all. The world around him, once warm and alive, was now encased in the frost of his fury. This is the end, he thought again, the words chilling his soul even further. Heaven’s perfection, its purity, its righteousness—all of it was nothing but an illusion. A lie.

And now, there would be no more.

He turned, feeling the weight of every betrayal, he’d suffered, and before him stood Sera. She was trembling, her once-glorious wings struggling to fight the frost that licked at her skin, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and pity.

"Adam, please," she begged, her voice cracking, desperate. "Stop. You don’t have to do this. You don’t—"

He laughed, a cold, bitter sound that echoed through the frozen air, his silver eyes burning with the fire of every broken promise.

Do I? he thought, but he didn’t say it aloud. His lips were cold, his heart colder still. The words that once would have broken him now felt like nothing more than a whisper in the wind. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t.

The anger inside him boiled over. They used me.

The echoes of those words ran through him, again and again. Heaven used me, Lucifer used me, Lilith used me... all of them. I was nothing but a tool.

“Pointlessly talking to the walls Finally I'm knocking down the gates”

His gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand, the ice around him rising in response, sharp and deadly. Sera stumbled back, her hands raised in a futile attempt to shield herself, but Adam felt no mercy. No compassion. He didn’t care about her pleas, about the way her eyes pleaded with him to stop, to feel something again.

"I was your favourite," he muttered bitterly, the words low and venomous. "But now? Now I’m just another broken thing in your perfect world."

And with that, he turned his back to her, stepping through the gates of Heaven, leaving the echoes of her cries and the bodies of the frozen winners behind him. Sera and Emily, the last remnants of what could have been, were frozen completely in ice—perfect, unmoving sculptures of regret, their faces locked in eternal silence.

“This really isn’t anything personal,” Adam said, looking at Emily frozen in ice, “I just can’t have you getting in my way.”

The gates closed behind him with a final, deafening slam, leaving Heaven to its fate—shattered, broken, and encased in the cold, suffocating frost of Adam’s vengeance.

“The story's gonna change and go my way”

Adam spread his wings wide, their blackened feathers crackling with cold as they unfurled. For a moment, he closed his eyes and felt the pulse of his own soul, a dark, frigid thrum deep within his chest. He could feel it—his essence—the heart of everything, the link between all that had been, all that was, and all that would ever be. Every human, every soul on earth, every living being, sinner or winner, bound together through him. Through his suffering, through his torment. It was inescapable, undeniable. Their pain had always been his. He understood now why he was important. Why he was always watched, always controlled, always needed.

His breath was slow, controlled, as the chill within him spread further, consuming all that was left of the warmth he once knew. The agony, the isolation, the betrayal—it was his now. He had claimed it. He had become the cold that coursed through the veins of everything.

“For the first time in forever I'm getting what I really want”

Adam opened his eyes. The world around him began to shift, bend, break beneath the weight of his power. He was no longer in heaven. He was no longer confined to the constraints of a fractured existence. He was the ruler of his own fate, and now, he would make sure no one else ever had the chance to escape their own.

His mind turned to the humans below. The winners and the sinners—what did it matter now? They were all connected to him, each soul a thread woven into the tapestry of his misery. He had frozen heaven, frozen those who had once called themselves his family. Now, it was time to turn his attention to earth.

A wave of cold washed over him, rising from the depths of his soul, spreading outward like a flood of ice. It surged through the very air, the earth beneath his feet trembling as if it could feel the weight of what was about to happen. He saw their faces, the countless souls living their lives—innocent, guilty, unaware. He saw the joy, the sorrow, the hopes, the regrets, all of it, flickering like distant stars in a darkened sky. And he could feel each one of them, as though they were standing right next to him.

He reached out with his soul, and the connection was instantaneous. Their fates, their very beings, laid bare before him. And with a thought, with a single, terrifying flick of his will, he sealed it.

“For the first time in forever I'll have my say and you can watch”

The earth began to grow colder, the air thick with the bite of frost. His soul swept over every human, every living creature, without mercy. From the towering cities to the silent, forgotten corners of the world, he froze them all. One by one, their hearts turned cold, their bodies stiffened, their souls locked away inside encasing blocks of ice.

The warmth that had once bathed the world faded. The sun, once bright and golden, began to change. It dimmed, its warmth turning to an unforgiving blue, an unnatural hue that cast everything in shadows. The air grew thick, suffocating, and the earth became still, frozen beneath the weight of Adam's vengeance.

No more sunshine. No more summer. No more warmth to ease the pain of the living. Only coldness. Only emptiness. It spread like an infection, touching everything in its path. The cities of men, once bustling with life, were now silent, frozen in place. The oceans, once teeming with creatures, now lay still, their waves frozen in eternal slumber. No warmth. No hope. Only a deep, all-consuming cold.

“I'm stronger now than ever And it's time I take my place”

The humans, the sinners, the winners—none of them could escape it. They were all linked to him, bound by their shared existence, and now they all met the same fate. Adam’s heart, if it could still be called that, pulsed with a bitter satisfaction. He was the cold. He was the one who would bring them to their knees, just as he had been brought to his.

The skies above were no longer blue; they were grey, heavy with the weight of endless snow. The clouds rolled in, dark and threatening, but it was the cold that filled the air—the cold that gnawed at the very bones of every living thing. The trees froze. The flowers withered. The animals fell to the ground, stiff and unmoving, as the frost spread through their veins, encasing them in ice.

“For the first time in forever Nothing's in my way Oh, nothing's in my way”

Adam could hear the cries—faint whispers in the back of his mind—as the last remnants of warmth slipped away from the world. It was a world no longer full of life but of desolation. His soul resonated with it, as if every cry from below only fed his power, only deepened the frost that was now his to wield. His eyes, once silver, now shimmered with a darkness, a void that had consumed him, body and soul.

His wings twitched, sharp and cold, the black feathers gleaming with frost. He spread them wide, letting the ice cascade from them in an explosion of power that sent the cold sweeping across the planet. Nothing could escape. Nothing would.

And as the last of the warmth died, Adam stood alone, the entire world frozen beneath his cold gaze, and he whispered to the wind, to the empty earth, to the shadows that clung to him like a cloak:

“I will not live in your shadow anymore.”

The silence that followed was profound, absolute. The cold was all-consuming, and Adam was the one who had brought it.

“Did you think I'd just keep taking it? Letting you crush my self-worth bit by bit”

Adam stood over Roo, his wings spread wide, casting a long shadow over her fragile form. The air around them was thick with the cold, the frost still crawling across the earth like a creeping plague. It had been his doing, and now he was watching it take root in the very soul of the demoness before him. She trembled, her once dark, smooth skin turning pale as the frost took hold, creeping up from her feet, curling around her limbs, and seizing her chest in a grip of bitter, unrelenting ice.

The world around them was silent—save for the crunch of the ice under Adam’s feet and the ragged, strained breathing of the demoness before him. Her eyes, wide and frantic, met his with a mix of fear and desperation, but Adam didn’t flinch. His heart, or what was left of it, felt nothing. He could see her—see Roo, once so vibrant, so full of malice—but now she was only a fading shadow. A remnant of a life that had meant nothing to him, a life that had always been a lie.

He looked down at her, remembering how she had once been, a reflection of his pain, of everything he had lost. Her red hair, her amber eyes, the way she had once been so full of herself, always speaking with such biting words, always mocking him. She had been a part of it all. A part of them.

“Well, now you'll just learn who you're messing with The Adam you knew is dead and gone”

The realization hit him like a crashing wave. She had never loved him. Never truly cared. Eve, Roo, none of them had.

Did you think I’d just keep taking it? The words burned in his mind, the memories of her manipulations, her cruelty, her twisted affection, clawing at him. His voice, cold and empty, finally broke the silence.

Roo’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, but the cold choked her, her words coming out in broken gasps. She reached out a hand to him, her fingers shaking, her voice cracking.

“No… Adam…” she whispered, but her plea was a ghost of what it once could have been. “Please… Don’t…”

But Adam didn’t feel a thing. Not anymore. He had been nothing but a pawn—her pawn, heaven’s pawn, Lucifer’s pawn. And now, in this moment, he was finally free. The Adam they had known was gone.

Roo’s body jerked as the ice spread further, encasing her legs, her arms, her torso. Her eyes widened in terror, but Adam stood over her, unmoving, watching her struggle against the cold. The ice crept into her throat, choking off her screams, freezing her very essence, until her once fiery spirit was nothing more than a brittle, frozen shell.

He paused, his breath shallow, the cold in his bones like a drug. His heart had long since stopped beating with any warmth. He had no sympathy left for her, for any of them. His entire life had been a slow, grinding agony. Every moment, every connection, twisted into something painful. And now… now it was over.

“Which begs the question,” Adam murmured, his voice low and dangerous, “Do I let you live?”

Her eyes, wide with terror, locked with his as she tried to speak again, but no words came. Her mouth opened, but it was too late. The ice had consumed her completely, sealing her in a prison of frozen silence. Roo—Eve—whatever she had been, was no more.

“Finally done being your pawn Which begs the question”

Adam didn’t flinch. Didn’t feel the loss. There was no sorrow. No rage. Only relief. Peace. The end of a long, drawn-out story.

Her body lay before him, encased in ice, her form frozen in time. She was born from his rib, his flesh. She had been created from him, from his suffering. It was only right that she stopped existing now. He no longer needed her.

He turned away, walking slowly, his wings trailing frost in his wake. Behind him, the ice remained. And with it, the hollow echo of a life that had once been but was now forever gone.

Adam didn’t feel anything. Not for Roo. Not for Eve. Not for anyone. He had freed himself from their hold, from the past, from everything that had kept him bound. He was finally his own. A dark, cold figure, standing at the centre of a world that was as empty as his soul.

And that was enough.

“Do I let you live?”

Lilith had been lounging on the warm sands of heaven’s beach, the golden rays of the sun kissing her skin as she rested, eyes half-closed. The tranquil waves lapped gently against the shore, the world around her soft and serene. But as the moment stretched on, something stirred within her. A strange shiver ran through her spine, creeping up from the depths of her being. A piercing sensation, cold and sharp, shot through her chest. Her heart faltered, the warmth she had once felt now replaced with a chilling emptiness.

Eve… she thought, blinking in confusion, but there was no response. The voice in her mind, the presence that had been a constant companion, had suddenly gone silent. A hollow absence bloomed where Eve's thoughts once echoed.

A feeling of dread curled in Lilith’s stomach. Her brow furrowed as she straightened up, her gaze darting across the beach in alarm. Something was wrong. The air felt heavier, colder. The warmth of the sun was fading, slipping through her fingers like sand, replaced by a biting chill.

Suddenly, the world around her seemed to shift. The sand beneath her began to harden, an unnatural cold sinking into the earth as if the very ground had been touched by death itself. Lilith’s breath hitched. The waves that had once gently kissed the shore rolled back with an ominous groan, rising unnaturally in the distance. She watched in disbelief as they froze, mid-motion, forming jagged, crystalline ice sculptures that glistened darkly under the oppressive sky.

Before Lilith could react, a coldness washed over her, more potent than anything she had ever felt. Her chest constricted painfully, a sharp, icy stab that seemed to freeze her very soul. Her hands clutched her heart as if she could stop the cold from spreading, but it was too late. Her skin, once warm and golden, began to turn pale, her veins slowly turning a frost-bitten blue. Ice crept up her arms, across her legs, and around her chest, locking her body in a solid grip.

A gasp escaped her lips, but it was swallowed by the frost that continued to encase her. Her body froze in place, her form becoming rigid, her movements halted. She could barely speak, only a tortured breath escaping her mouth before it too was frozen. Her eyes widened in disbelief and panic, as the very world around her seemed to be succumbing to the same fate.

The sun that had once burned brightly in the heavens above her disappeared, slowly swallowed by a thick, oppressive darkness. Clouds swirled, dark and heavy, blotting out the light, leaving only an endless expanse of cold. Her surroundings had become a silent grave, frozen in time.

The once-gentle sounds of the beach—the waves, the wind, the distant calls of birds—were all drowned out by an eerie, unnatural stillness. Lilith's last conscious thought was that this was no longer the paradise she knew. This was a realm overtaken by something far darker, something that no longer cared for warmth or life.

She was trapped, alone in her frozen prison. A lifeless statue, caught in the grip of a power she had never anticipated, her once-proud self now a reflection of what had been. And she could do nothing but watch as the world around her turned cold, just as her heart had.

“Get down and bow It's coronation day”

Adam walked through the infernal wasteland of Hell, his silver eyes hollow and distant, not even bothering to shield himself from the harsh winds of the eternal winter he had unleashed. The heat of Hell, once a suffocating, oppressive presence, had begun to twist and wither under the force of his frost. The sulphurous air grew colder, the humid stench of burning brimstone turning to the biting chill of ice. The very core of Hell began to freeze, the flames sputtering and dimming, struggling to hold against the ice creeping relentlessly from Adam’s soul.

The hellborn, twisted and broken beings born of the flames, could scarcely flee fast enough. Their once-molten skin now stiffened as the first tendrils of frost wormed through their bodies, turning their fiery limbs into brittle, frozen husks. They screamed in agony, their cries turning to icicles that shattered like glass in the cold air. Adam didn’t even flinch. He simply walked, his feet crunching the frozen ground beneath him as the temperature plummeted further.

Sinners, who once filled Hell with their endless suffering, now writhed on the ground, ice erupting from their chests like a cruel rebirth. They begged for mercy, their voices ragged and desperate, but it was all pointless. Adam had no room for their pain. No room for regret. The same souls that had been twisted by Hell, corrupted and broken, now became nothing more than statues of ice, their fate sealed in the eternal frost. They fell, lifeless, their screams silenced forever in a cold tomb, and Adam felt nothing. Nothing but the sharp, sharp release of peace in their stillness.

He wandered through Pentagram City, now shrouded in his frozen grip. His ice spread across the streets like a disease, crawling up walls and stealing the warmth from everything it touched. The lights flickered, fading, unable to sustain themselves in the growing frost. The sinners he passed, their faces contorted in fear, saw their fate long before it reached them. They crumbled into solid blocks of ice with one last cry—screams that fell on deaf ears. Adam couldn’t bring himself to care. They were all born of the same dark energy that had now bloomed into this terrible, vengeful winter. They were nothing but extensions of his broken soul, and they would share his end.

He moved through the city with no particular aim, only following the pull of something he didn’t quite understand. Until his eyes fell upon the familiar shape of the Hazbin Hotel. It loomed before him, the last vestige of life in a frozen city. The last place where souls still clung to the hope that they might be spared. Adam could feel the fear inside the hotel, the chaos, the struggle to survive. It churned in the air, thick with desperation, and he could sense it all. They were fighting, but he knew they couldn’t win. Not with him here.

The ice had already reached the hotel's walls, creeping along the cracks in the structure, forming veins of frost that bled into the very foundation. The windows shattered as it pushed its way in, a flood of cold that tore through the doors. It was only a matter of time now. Time for them to learn the futility of their fight. Time for him to finish what he had started.

When the doors finally exploded outward, Adam stood there, watching without emotion. The inside was a scene of frantic movement. The sinners huddled together, terrified, as Charlie tried—desperately tried—to protect the ones she loved. Angel Dust was the first to react, his body trembling as ice spread from his chest, curling around him like a death sentence. Husk’s fur stiffened into a ghostly white, while even Niffty’s endless cheerfulness faltered in the cold. The ice moved swiftly, no longer holding back as it began to consume them all.

A cry echoed through the space, a desperate wail that came from Charlie’s lips. She held onto Angel Dust as his body froze completely, his movements faltering until he was solid as stone, his fur coated in a layer of ice. The same fate followed Husk, then Cherri Bomb, their cries muted in the rising storm. Alastor’s grin faltered as the ice reached his limbs, and Niffty’s laughter choked in her throat as the frost sealed her in place.

Vaggie was still fighting, her hands trembling as she clung to Charlie, but it was clear—the ice had already begun to take her. The human souls that remained, the last vestiges of warmth, were no match for the cold Adam had brought with him.

Through the chaos, Adam heard his name. A voice so familiar, so laced with the memories of everything that had led to this moment. He turned slowly, his silver eyes catching the fiery presence of Lucifer himself. His form was a mess—dishevelled and clearly struggling against the storm of ice that surrounded them. The snowstorm roared louder, an unnatural howling that echoed throughout Hell as it too was claimed by the ice. The irony was thick in the air; Hell itself was becoming a frozen wasteland, just like Earth, just like Heaven. All things would succumb to the cold, and nothing would be left untouched.

Adam felt no joy in this. No victory. The faces of the sinners, the pleading voices, the wailing cries—none of it moved him. He was beyond that now. There was no turning back. He was not the Adam they once knew. He was something colder. Something darker. And Lucifer, standing there in the blizzard, his presence like a shadow of the past, could only watch as everything they had built, everything they had tried to save, crumbled into ice.

“For the first time in forever I'm not looking for your love”

ucifer stood before Adam, his wings now shuddering as the biting wind whipped through his feathers. His form, once proud and imposing, now seemed to sag beneath the weight of his own sorrow. The ice that was rapidly engulfing Hell, Earth, and Heaven encased them both in a frozen silence, the storm around them louder than any words they had ever shared. He was shivering, his normally fiery presence flickering weakly in the storm that Adam had wrought.

"Adam," Lucifer's voice broke through the howling wind, his tone strained. "Please, stop this."

Adam remained silent, his gaze cold and distant, staring into the frozen expanse that stretched before them. Lucifer's heart twisted at the sight of his former companion, the angel he had once known. But that was before everything had shattered.

"Do you hear me?" Lucifer continued, his voice desperate now, his wings trembling as if they, too, could feel the weight of the frozen world closing in. "I know you can't hear me. You won’t. But listen anyway."

Lucifer’s gaze drifted, a flicker of regret passing through his eyes, before he closed them tightly, forcing the memories of Eden to the surface.

"I never wanted this, Adam," Lucifer said, his voice softer now, as if the words were tearing themselves from him against his will. "I never wanted to hurt you. Back in Eden... I didn’t even like you. But not because of you. It wasn’t your fault." His words felt like a confession, a moment of raw vulnerability breaking free from the walls he'd built. "It wasn’t you. It was the responsibility. The endless rules, the expectations. You were my responsibility. You... were my responsibility, and it suffocated me."

Lucifer's wings shuddered again, the icy chill wrapping tighter around his being, and for the first time, he felt the weight of his own apology pressing on his chest.

"God made me your caretaker, Adam," Lucifer continued, his voice barely audible against the icy winds. "It was all on me. And I hated it. I hated the idea of being bound by anything, especially by you. You were just... one more thing I had to tend to. One more thing that kept me from freedom."

A tear streaked down Lucifer's face, frozen by the cold but still marking the sharp sting of regret. "But that wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for any of that. And I took it out on you... I took my anger, my hatred, out on you. I blamed you for everything that went wrong in my life."

He paused, his wings now nearly covered in frost, struggling against the weight of his confession. The storm around them howled, but his voice was growing quieter, more broken.

"I should’ve confronted Michael. I should’ve confronted the others, demanded they help me, but I didn’t. I was too much of a coward. I kept everything inside, until it turned into this... this resentment. And I blamed you. It wasn’t fair. I was terrible, Adam. I was a terrible person. A terrible archangel, and I’m so sorry."

Lucifer’s voice faltered as he stepped closer, not daring to reach out to Adam, for fear that even that would be rejected. His wings drooped, heavy with the weight of his words. The ice clung to him now, just as it had to everything else. The frost spread outward from his chest as the cold within Adam’s soul consumed everything in its wake.

He stood there, the silence stretching painfully long between them. "I’m sorry," Lucifer whispered again, though he knew Adam could not hear him now—not the way he once had. "I never should have treated you like that. You didn’t deserve any of it."

Adam did not move. He did not speak. There was no warmth left in his eyes. No flicker of recognition. The bitter frost that had settled into his soul was too far gone for any words to reach.

Lucifer closed his eyes, defeated. He had no more words, no more excuses. All he had left were regrets, bitter and sharp, like shards of ice lodged in his chest. But there was no redemption here. There was nothing but the slow, inevitable descent into the frozen void that Adam had set in motion. The very air around them trembled with the tension of what was to come, and Lucifer, despite all his sorrow, knew this: there was no stopping Adam now.

The world would freeze, and neither apologies nor regrets would be enough to thaw it.

“For the first time in forever I am free to rise above”

Lucifer’s breath came in short, pained gasps as the ice continued to creep up his wings, pulling him further into the frozen world Adam had created. His eyes, now clouded with regret and grief, locked onto Adam, who remained as still and distant as the cold that surrounded them both. There was no warmth left between them, no spark of connection. Lucifer knew this. He knew it, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. He needed to say this. He needed to make Adam understand, even if it didn’t matter anymore.

"I know what you're thinking, Adam," Lucifer whispered, his voice raw and hoarse from the biting winds. "You’re right, you know. I was enchanted by Lilith. I... I believed every single lie she told me. I thought she was something different. I thought she could give me the freedom I craved, that she would be the answer to everything I hated about my life in Eden. I believed in her, Adam, without thinking. Without even really looking at her."

Lucifer shook his head, his wings trembling as the weight of his words pressed on him. The ice in the air crackled, but there was nothing but a hollow emptiness inside of him. His chest ached, but it wasn’t a physical pain—it was something deeper. Something that had been festering for so long.

"I wasn’t stupid," Lucifer muttered, his gaze falling to the ground. "I knew deep down that it couldn’t be true. That she couldn’t be what she seemed. I knew you and I were connected, Adam. God created us both. We were bound together from the start, made from the same light. I could feel it every time I looked at you. I could sense it. Your soul... I knew it, Adam. And I could have easily just looked at you—felt you—and known the truth. I didn’t need Lilith to tell me what I already knew. But I used it as an excuse. As a reason to push you away. A reason to neglect you. A reason to hurt you."

Lucifer’s wings flared briefly, but they were weak—laden with frost and weighed down by the sorrow that had built up inside him. His hands clenched at his sides, his voice trembling now, softer, but the regret seeping through every word.

"I was a coward, Adam," Lucifer admitted, his eyes squeezing shut as the cold continued to tighten its grip. "I didn’t want to face the truth. I didn’t want to face the responsibility. I didn’t want to deal with you. So I let myself get distracted. I let myself be fooled by Lilith and her promises of freedom, of more than what the other angels had. I let myself want more than what was mine. I wanted more than just creation. I wanted more than the magic. I wanted to be free of the chains, free of you... and I didn’t know how to get away from it. I didn’t know how to escape the feeling of being trapped. I didn’t know how to deal with you, Adam. With us."

He paused, his chest rising and falling with laboured breaths, his eyes flickering with the same guilt that had haunted him for so long. The ice around him crept further, but his mind was miles away in Eden, in those endless days and nights of strife and misunderstanding.

"And I knew," Lucifer whispered, his voice barely audible against the storm. "I knew that I was being selfish. I knew I was pushing you away, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t deal with it. I was weak. I wanted freedom, but I had no right to do what I did. No right to treat you the way I did."

His wings shook, ice splintering off as the cold that surrounded them grew stronger. "And now, look at us. You’re so far gone now, Adam. You’ve become... something else. And I can’t even blame you. I’m the one who pushed you to this point. I did this."

Lucifer’s voice cracked, his head bowing in shame. "I was selfish. A coward. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Adam. Even if you can’t believe me, I’m sorry. I never should have hurt you. I never should have turned away."

“I don't care for your approval We have nothing more to say”

Lucifer stared at Adam, his eyes wide with anticipation, desperation seeping into every line of his face. He watched Adam’s features, hoping for a flicker of acknowledgment, a crack in the impenetrable wall that now separated them. But there was nothing. Adam’s expression was blank, his eyes cold and distant, as if Lucifer wasn’t even standing there at all. The silence between them stretched unbearably long, until Lucifer could hardly bear it anymore.

"I know you don’t want to hear this, Adam. You’ve heard it all before," Lucifer began again, his voice trembling slightly with the weight of the confessions he was pouring out. "But I have to say it, I have to let it out. Even if you’ll never forgive me, I need you to know the truth. About everything."

He took a deep breath, his wings curling against the biting wind, the snowstorm howling around them. Lucifer's words were laced with regret as he continued, his guilt bleeding through with each syllable.

"When we were cast out of Eden... Lilith and I, we were banished, and I... I was angry. I had no right to be, I know that now, but I was. You weren’t the one who caused it. It was me. But all I could feel was this... burning, like something was being kept from me. Like you were being kept from me." His voice cracked; the words raw as they fell from his lips. "I thought if I could make humanity fall, if I could destroy what we were supposed to protect, it would somehow make me feel free. I thought it would be an act of defiance, a way to take control of my life, but it wasn’t. It was selfish. It was stupid."

Lucifer’s face twisted in pain as he recalled the mistakes he had made. "I lured Eve in, fed her the apple of knowledge. I thought it would matter, like it was some grand act of rebellion. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t about Eve, not really. It wasn’t about freeing humanity or doing anything noble. It was about my own bitterness, my own desire for more than what I was allowed. I wanted to be more than just the Morning Star. I wanted to be something else, something better. And I... I didn’t care about anything or anyone. Not even you."

The cold wind cut through him, but it was nothing compared to the hollow, gnawing ache inside. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "And I didn’t even want to be with her. I didn’t care about Lilith, not the way I should have. It wasn’t even my idea to sleep with her—at the time, I wasn’t thinking about any of that. But she wanted it. She pushed for it. She made me believe it was the next step, the only way out of the mess I had made. But I see now... I see how it was just another way of hurting everything, of keeping me locked in the same place I’ve always been. I was so consumed by my own desire for freedom that I let it blind me. And when it was over, when I realized what I had done..." Lucifer's voice broke, his heart slamming against his ribs. "I couldn’t tell you, Adam. I couldn’t tell anyone. I was too ashamed. I... I was selfish and disgusting. And I hate myself for it."

The snowstorm raged louder, more violent as his words poured out, but it was nothing compared to the fury that swelled inside him—the fury he had kept hidden for so long.

"And then there was Cain," Lucifer muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying his name made everything real. "I knew. I knew what happened. And yet I didn’t help. I just watched you suffer. I watched everything fall apart. And part of me... part of me liked it. I felt this sick satisfaction watching you struggle, watching you hurt. It wasn’t right, Adam. I know that now. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

He dropped to his knees, the snow biting at his skin, the cold burning as if it were trying to punish him, just as he deserved. He bowed his head, not caring about his pride anymore. "I was a terrible friend. A terrible archangel. I was selfish. I used you, and I’m sorry. I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness, not after everything I did. But I can’t stop saying it. I have to apologize. I have to."

Lucifer’s wings trembled as he knelt before Adam, his face crumpling with the weight of the years of mistakes, the weight of every time he had failed. "I know you’ll never forgive me. I know you hate me. And you have every right to. But I can’t help but wish... I wish I had done better. I wish I hadn’t hurt you. You deserved so much more. You didn’t deserve to be treated like a pawn, like some thing to be used and discarded. I should have been better to you, Adam. I should have been better to us."

Lucifer’s voice grew softer, quieter. "In the end, I got everything I wanted. I became a king. I ruled over Hell. I got subjects, a queen, a daughter... I got everything. But what does that matter if I lost everything that truly mattered? What does that matter when you were left in the cold, abandoned by everyone? While you were always treated like a tool, something to be used, something to be thrown away. And I let it happen. I let it all happen."

The snowstorm howled louder, and Lucifer could feel his own despair swirling around him, suffocating him. His chest heaved with the weight of his guilt, but there was nothing to release it. Nothing would undo what he had done. Nothing could fix the mess he had created. "I’m so sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry for everything. Please... please believe me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to break you."

“For the first time in forever Nothing's in my-“

Lucifer’s breath was shaky, his voice wavering as the weight of everything he had done, everything he had failed to do, pressed down on him with crushing force. He watched Adam, standing there, unfeeling, unmoving—an enigma, a frozen monument of suffering and silence. His heart twisted painfully as he recalled those first moments after Adam had died.

"I... I thought I could fix it," Lucifer murmured, his eyes flickering with the memory. "I thought... when you died, when you became a sinner, I could make it right. I was so angry. I wanted to hurt you again, make you suffer more. I thought maybe it would help me feel something other than regret, that it would make everything I had done go away, that it would be my way of taking back control. But it was a lie. It was all just... lies. I was fooling myself."

His voice faltered as he spoke, the truth clawing its way out of him, raw and suffocating. "I wanted to break you again. I thought you were the perfect symbol of everything I had failed to do. I thought if I could make you feel even worse than you already did, then maybe it would make me feel less guilty. Maybe it would make me feel better about myself." He took a shuddering breath, his head falling in shame. "But then... then I started to see what I had really done to you."

Lucifer’s wings trembled as his gaze turned inward, as if searching for a way to escape the suffocating truth. "I saw you, Adam. I saw you as a sinner, broken and beaten down, stripped of everything that made you who you were. And I saw how much of it... how much of it was my fault." His voice cracked, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "I did this to you. I let it happen. I let you suffer. I failed you. I failed to protect you, like I was supposed to. I should have been there for you. I should have kept you safe, should have helped you when you needed it most. But I didn’t."

The wind howled around them, the snowstorm growing wilder as Lucifer’s chest tightened with the weight of his guilt. "And when I saw you as a sinner... I was disgusted with myself. You were broken. You were a reflection of everything I had done wrong, everything I had caused. And it tore me apart, Adam. I wanted to look away, I wanted to pretend it wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t. I had to look it in the eye. I had to face the truth, that everything, everything you went through... it was because of me."

Lucifer’s eyes closed briefly, a tear threatening to fall, but he wiped it away angrily, as if trying to deny the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to make it up to you, Adam. I thought if I could show you that there was still something good in the world, maybe, maybe it would make everything better. Maybe you could see that there was still hope for you. That maybe... maybe I could make you happy again."

His voice softened, trembling with a truth he could no longer deny. "But then... then I realized something else. It wasn’t just about trying to fix you. It was about me. I started to realize that... that I didn’t just want to fix you. I wanted you. I wanted you. I wanted you more than I ever realized. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone. And that scared me. Because I never thought I could feel that way about someone. Not Lilith, not Eve. But you... Adam... I loved you. More than anything."

Lucifer’s eyes were full of longing, full of a deep, aching love that he could no longer hide. He dropped his head, his wings folding in around himself as if he could hide from the weight of his confession.

 "I loved you, Adam. I loved you more than anything. More than my position, more than my power, more than anything I ever had. I didn’t realize it then. I didn’t understand it. But now... now I know. I would have given it all up for you. I would have done anything to make you happy, to make you feel loved, to make you feel like you mattered. And I ruined it. I ruined everything."

Lucifer took a deep breath, his words desperate and quiet. "I’m sorry, Adam. I’m sorry for everything. And I know that no matter what I say, no matter what I do, it’s too late. But I just... I just want you to know. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll do anything for you. Anything."

His voice was thick with emotion, the finality of his words crashing over him like the storm raging around them.

"I know you can’t forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. But I love you. And I always will." Lucifer gasped out, “Just please…say something…anything.”

“None of this had to happen…

We could have been lovers.

But I’ve run out of chances and…

You’ve run out of time.”

Adam’s voice cut through the howling wind, softer than a whisper, a tremor in the words as he spoke. The stillness between them felt heavier than the blizzard around them, and for a brief, fleeting moment, everything seemed suspended in time. His eyes fell to the frozen earth beneath his feet, the ice creeping slowly, methodically, like the ache within him that had grown over centuries, eating him alive.

"No, Lucifer," Adam began, his voice broken, too quiet to hold the weight of his pain. "None of this had to have happened. None of it. We could have been something... something more than this—more than just... this."

He exhaled sharply, as if the very act of breathing hurt now. "I wanted more, I wanted you, I tried... I tried so many times."

His words faltered for a moment, as if he was fighting against them, fighting against the truth that was finally spilling from his heart. "I tried reaching out to you when you were hurting, when I thought I could help, when I thought we could fix this together."

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, the coldness of the ice creeping deeper into his bones, matching the deep frost in his chest. "I wanted to be there for you, Lucifer. I wanted to be the one who stood by your side, no matter what. But I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t break through."

He swallowed thickly, turning his back to Lucifer, his wings folding in around him like a shield—cold, dark, and fragile.

"You froze me out completely," Adam whispered, barely audible. "I kept coming back, kept reaching for you, trying to pull you closer, hoping you would finally see me. But you didn’t. You kept shutting me out."

The ice beneath his feet seemed to grow colder, harder, as if it were mirroring the chilling truth in his words.

"I just wanted a friend."

His voice cracked, and for the first time, Adam let himself feel the weight of his own heartbreak. "I wanted you. I wanted you to talk to me, to trust me, to understand that I was yours and you were mine. I gave you everything I had, everything I was, and you never saw it. You never saw me. You saw someone else. You saw... someone else."

The words broke apart on his lips, and Adam’s hands trembled at his sides.

"I lost count of all the times I tried, Lucifer. All the times I reached out, hoping you would turn around, hoping you would finally see me. But you didn’t. You couldn’t." His chest heaved, the weight of his pain and regret pressing in on him until he thought he might collapse. "I would have given anything for you to just see me—just see us for what we could have been. But now..."

He closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as the realization set in like a deep, suffocating fog.

Turning his face away, Adam whispered, the words barely forming as they passed through his lips. "But I’ve run out of chances. And you’ve run out of time."

Lucifer gasped, his eyes wide with horror as if the words themselves were knives in his chest. He took a step toward Adam, desperate, pleading.

"No, Adam—please," Lucifer cried, his voice raw, shaking. "We can still fix this. We can still make it right. Please..."

He reached out, his wings trembling, the weight of his regret pressing down on him like the heavy storm raging around them.

But Adam didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t. His soul was too tired, too broken to keep pretending that there was hope left in the world.

"No," Adam said softly, his voice distant, empty. "It’s too late for us now. You’ve made your choice, and I’ve made mine. And I’ve run out of everything I once had." His wings flared, gleaming like jagged shards of ice, dark and unforgiving.

"Goodbye, Lucifer," Adam whispered, his final words a quiet surrender to the bitter cold.

And with that, Adam turned away, walking into the unforgiving storm that mirrored the coldness in his soul. He could feel the pain, the weight of his loss, but he didn’t have the strength to carry it anymore. He couldn’t. The world had frozen over, and with it, any shred of hope he once had.

Lucifer stood there, watching him fade into the blizzard, his heart breaking into a thousand jagged pieces, each one colder than the last. But there was nothing he could do. He had lost Adam—for good this time.

And it was his fault.

“For the first time in forever I can see clearly what to do There's one thing that always held me back And that one thing was you Now you've had your last tomorrow 'Cause your time is up today For the first time in forever, oh Nothing's in my way Nothing's in my way”

[silentmagi]

Frozen Out Weiss has very mixed feelings about Ruby: she can’t stand her idiocy but she eventually ends up enjoying her company since the girl is sincerely interested in her and really wants to be her friend.

The same cannot be said about her other teammates.

Frozen Out

Honestly, as she's now hiding as Crystal, being able to relax her prim and proper habits, she's able to see her partner as being more than just a dolt.

The other two... Ruby's sister and Blake both are rather oblivious. They seem to think they're be being subtle for their feelings with each other. Their implications of her and Ruby being an couple was obvious deflection.

She didn't like Ruby like that. Not that there was anything wrong, but she... just didn't feel romantic feelings for people.

[thornethenorn]

Well there's this.

What's the worst thing anyone could say about your OC? Something that would cut DEEP?

[canisalbus]

Oops

.

[ferahntics]

Let him sleep

(also I wanna credit @logicpng for Doey showing his teeth when yawning (here!), I am so in love with it 💖)