Light Work

by SatanicAsch

Summary:

Lucifer typically doesn't get involved in the lives of the hotel residents. Sure, he kinda remembers some of their names by now. As well as little things they liked, since he would create such things for them.

But as always, they give him a wild berth and Lucifer doesn't try to close the gap. He's the King of Hell. The Original Sin. The Prince of Darkness. And still very much an Angel (though, fallen) after all these years.

He doesn't blame them for giving him space.

Notes:

I just think I want Lucifer to be everyone's dad???

Anyway Lucifer getting to do dad stuff with Charlie and being a good friend(?) for Angel.

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Lucifer typically doesn't get involved in the lives of the hotel residents. Sure, he kinda remembers some of their names by now. As well as little things they liked, since he would create such things for them. 

 

But as always, they give him a wild berth and Lucifer doesn't try to close the gap. He's the King of Hell. The Original Sin. The Prince of Darkness. And still very much an Angel (though, fallen) after all these years. 

 

He doesn't blame them for giving him space. They're wayward and doomed human souls that are there to remind Lucifer of the evil he inflicted on the world. Lucifer is something else apart from them entirely. 

 

The distance is… More manageable as time goes by. Conversation at family dinner night is more and more animated as they get over the strangeness of Lucifer’s presence. 

 

They say their niceties to him if they pass by. Everyone still calls him some form of title aside from his name. It's routine. 

 

The only difference was his daughter, whom Lucifer was more than happy to spend time with. And by extension, her girlfriend Vaggie which Lucifer was just as happy to welcome into the family. 

 

A fallen Angel like himself and someone who loved his sweet baby girl Charlie. If and or when they decided to get married, Lucifer would make it a national holiday for all of Hell, no expense spared, and a huge fuck you fireworks show to Heaven for casting Vaggie out. Now she's gonna sit on the throne of Hell with his Charlie. 

 

Eat shit, Adam . 

 

Today, he's out of his suite and on his way to execute a fresh idea for a steam room and spa. Rehabilitation, per Charlie, was very stressful and what better way to unwind with some luxury? 

 

They had an empty room on the first floor close to the back door. A perfect spot. Lucifer had spent the last three days designing it in sketch format. 

 

With a wave of his hand, the door opens and Lucifer sets to work. 

 

He likes this. Flexing his creative ability again like an old muscle, seeing what he can do and testing the limits of it. There were no more Heavenly rules, no right and wrong to weigh, to hold him back. 

 

It's… Freeing. 

 

As if he's conducting an orchestra, Lucifer builds the room to his pre-sketched specifications. Golden sparks of magic fill every inch of the air while he works, traveling up sculpted banisters, down through the floor. 

 

Lucifer’s not sure how much time has passed when he feels the familiar extension of existence signaling his daughter has entered the room. After learning she never quite learned the importance of knocking and startling him at every chance, he'd make sure to keep an eye out. 

 

With a smile, he lowers himself to the ground and folds his wings away. 

 

Charlie stands at the entrance way with a shy smile on her face. With no small amount of worry, he can see lines of tension and upset written upon her face. 

 

“Everything okay, sweetie?”, Lucifer immediately walks over, placing a supportive hand onto her arm. Charlie immediately places her hand over it and her expression instantly goes softer. 

 

With a squeeze of his hand, Charlie lets out a sigh. “I think so. I'm… Not sure right now.”

 

“Anything I can do?”, Something Lucifer had learned from his daughter is that while he could solve any problem easily, it doesn't mean that he should. Because the quick way wasn't always the best way. 

 

“Maybe.”, She squeezes his hand again. “...Cherri said she saw you walk over here so I thought… I could watch you work? Like when I was little, in your workshop?” 

 

Lucifer refuses to tear up in front of his daughter while she's already bothered by something else. So he doesn't. On the outside, at least. 

 

“Y-yeah!”, He coughs into his hand to hide from his over eager answer. “Hell, you could help, kiddo!” 

 

Charlie looks at him with wide, shining eyes. 

 

With a flourish, Lucifer takes off his hat and spawns his sketchbook out (with a mini firework show, for flair) before settling in to show her.

 

They're both sitting cross-legged on the floor now (bearing sleek tiles with red apples etched in). He hands his sketchbook over with a lot less turmoil than he thought. Usually, it was only Lilith he showed his ideas too… 

 

Charlie is his daughter. A part of him and who he is. She had loved seeing his work as a little girl, whenever his wife permitted it. 

 

He sits in silence, peeking over while Charlie flips through the pages. 

 

“This is all stuff you designed for the hotel?” 

 

“Mhm. Been working on a couple of ideas, I just finished up the ones for this kinda–”, Lucifer makes a half-and-half wiggle with his hand. “–Spa-ish area. Some of its changing now that I'm actually making it. And I'm glad you're here so I could get some input!” 

 

His enthusiasm is met with a crushing hug. The kind he's slowly getting accustomed to from Charlie. She tightens her hold before releasing him, a brittle expression on her face that she quickly hides behind her arm. Wiping her eyes across her sleeve. 

 

Then, she takes a deep breath before standing to her feet. 

 

Lucifer takes it for what it is. “Alright. Let's get started.”

 

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They begin with the basics. Creation magic. 

 

It wasn't something Lucifer had ever really thought about. Right from Genesis, the raw light he was made from already had all the concepts, the blueprints. He was crafted with the purpose of making . To steward Eden. 

 

However, Charlie, his perfect baby girl, was not prenatally imbued with such. And while she rivals him in raw power, she was born from that light. Everything had to be learned . 

 

“You got it, take a deep breath, eyes closed.”, He guides her. “Imagine what you want to create. How heavy it should be, how it fits into your hand, the texture, how it feels–” 

 

Charlie's face scrunches up with focus, her hands clasped over one another, a growing light shining through her fingers.

 

Lucifer mimics her posture, but in a far more relaxed state. Actually, Lucifer doesn't remember the last time he'd felt as composed as his time with his kid and the hotel. Anytime created something and it wasn’t just… Clutter. 

 

There's a mess of papers scattered around them, various little doodles on each, as well as a few half-formed early attempts now doubling for paperweights. An additional small pile of rubber ducks with slight little differences. 

 

“That's it. Now when you get the picture clear in your mind, boom it into existence!”, With a flourish, Lucifer opens his hand and shows off a shiny, yellow duck. 

 

Charlie's face goes even tighter as she begins to mumble a chorus of ‘come on, come on, come on–’ before a final yell of effort and – 

 

In her hand, a tiny cat. Its texture is half between felt and fur, the face is a little wonky, and it's got different patterns clipping over others but it's a fully formed idea. 

 

“ Aha! Perfect, kiddo!”, Lucifer dumps his duck on the ground to admire his daughter's work. 

 

It's clear there's a lot of learning to be done but it's only been what, a couple of hours? And she's already fully formed a creation! 

 

Her eyes are wide and sparkling. “I– I did it!”, Charlie pumps her arms up, creation clutched in her fists. “Holy fuck, yes ! I did it!” 

 

Lucifer laughs with her. “You did amazing, sweetie. I'll teach ya everything I know.” 

 

Charlie turns to him, creation now clutched close to her chest. “Thanks, dad!”, Her smile wobbles a bit. “But uh, sorry we didn't get to finish the spa today.”

 

“ Pft. All I got is time. We can work on it whenever.” 

 

At the promise of ‘we”, working together again, Charlie brightens further. “Okay, yeah. After one-on-one's tomorrow I should be able to come by and help! Sometimes they go over when I'm talking to Husk. I know he's not a guest but I think it helps him too.” 

 

“Any time that's good for you is good for me.” 

 

Charlie gives him another crushing hug. “I wanna go show Vaggie what I made! She likes cats.” 

 

“Sure thing.”, Lucifer snaps his fingers, all the mess from before now is nothing but a wonderful memory. Also now in his bedroom, he's keeping the attempts forever. He still had all of Charlie’s doodles from when she was a baby, then a toddler, to her childhood– And so forth. 

 

Charlie pauses, seemingly considering something. “Hey dad…? Before I head out, can I… Ask you for some advice on something?”

 

After today, Lucifer isn't sure he's alive anymore. It's been so good to share his magic with his kid now she wants his opinion on her problems??. “ Y-yeah – Of course, sweetie! What’s on your mind?” 

 

She fiddles with the stuffed cat, idling it between hands. “I’m worried about one of our guests. Angel. You’ve talked to him a couple times now.”, Charlie takes a shaky breath. “His boss is a piece of work. Just a real terrible guy. Lately, Angel’s been coming back to the hotel later and later. Overworked and overtired. He doesn’t want anyone to think he can’t handle it but I…”

 

Lucifer leans forward, letting her know that he’s listening. A skill he’d been slowly working on. 

 

“Last time I tried to get involved and help, I made things really bad for him.”, Charlie sags, remembering how upset Angel had been that night. “But I can’t stand seeing that jerkwad hurt him. I just… Don’t know what I can do to help.” 

 

Placing a hand on his chin, Lucifer thinks. His short answer is kill the guy’s boss. It would be easy enough for him. However, given the general ideology of the Hotel and Charlie, she probably wouldn’t be happy with the idea. And he could never go behind her back like that. 

 

“It sounds like his work is important to him.”, Lucifer states. 

 

“I know he’s proud of… Some of it?”, Charlie continues to fidget. “But it’s too much. He looks so tired, dad. It’s mean.” 

 

“And he won’t give up on this guy and work somewhere else. That probably means he’s under some kinda contract with ‘em.” 

 

Charlie grows more visibly distressed. “...I’m pretty sure that’s it.”

 

“If it’s a deal, and you don’t know its terms, you’d have to play it safe, kiddo.”, Lucifer sighs. “You don’t want to meddle with his soul, it could put him in more danger.” 

 

Hearing that, Charlie deflates. Which makes Lucifer backpedal. 

 

“What I mean is, spending quality time with him here at the hotel to ease the strain of his deal. Until your friend trusts you enough to tell you about the conditions of his deal, then you have more information to, uh, work with ?” 

 

“So being here for him now until we can do more later?”, Charlie seems to consider it. While Lucifer realizes the ‘we’ is not a royal one. She’d be counting on him to help when the time comes. 

 

Clearing his throat, Lucifer manages a little more encouragement. “If we know the conditions of his agreement, we could find a loophole. Or even break it.” 

 

“And then Angel would be free from that moth-asshole!”, His daughter cheers. 

 

“Moth-what?” 

 

“Okay! Until then, I’m gonna support the Hell out of Angel!”, She looks at the cat in her hand. Then down at her father. “Thank you. I feel a lot better.” 

 

“Anytime, sweetie.”, He gives an earnest smile. Something like light in his chest at being able to abate her worries. 

 

Charlie goes to leave one more time before pausing yet again, turning to him. “I– I’m really glad you’re here. Alastor’s been scarce since he came back, and of course I’m worried about him too. But we couldn’t have done this rebuild without you, dad.” 

 

The mention of his arch-rival, that stupid ass has-been radio freak, Lucifer’s grin turns sharp. Ha. Fucking loserrrrrr. He could take every job that idiot had until he’s on the street. “Anything you need, I’m here. Don’t even worry about that guy.”

 

“He’s my friend too, so of course I’m concerned about him isolating himself… But he seems alright whenever he comes around so I can only hope everything’s okay.” 

 

I hope he dies. “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

 

“Just to be sure…”, Charlie gives him a pleading smile. “...If you see him around, keep an eye on him for me? You’re both important to me so I want you to get along and work together! I’d be upset if anything happened to either of you.” 

 

Nothing could happen to him. He’s immortal, powerful, and king . Lucifer lets out a dramatic sigh. “Just for you.” 

 

Charlie darts over to give him one more bone-crushing hug. “Thank you! I promise promise promise Alastor’s not that bad. He’s just hard to get used too, is all!” 

 

“Mh.”, He manages. Less than enthused at the idea that he really, really can’t just kill that asshole. 

 

Alastor helped Charlie with her dreams. And while Lucifer doesn't trust his intentions a single bit, that creepy sinner was still there while Lucifer wasn't. 

 

That counts for something. Not much. But more than nothing. 

 

Charlie drops him down, gentle and full of care. His boots clack softly on the hard floors. 

 

“Oh, one last thing, Char.”, Lucifer promises himself that this is the last distraction, to let his kid go show her girlfriend her creation. With a snap, he creates a neat little red sketchbook. All blank sans the cover, which was emblazoned with their family symbols. “Work on sketching your ideas and we'll try to create them next time.” 

 

“Absolutely!”, Charlie grabs the sketchbook. “Thanks again, dad! I'm gonna run to show Vaggie before dinner. Love you!” 

 

Lucifer pauses, watching her go. “...Love you too.” 

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He doesn’t intend to get involved. 

 

Lucifer truly means that he had no intentions to. Charlie would handle it and he would help if asked. That was his plan here at the hotel. She was the boss, he was just her dad. 

 

It’s his insomnia’s fault, all and all. His emotional state rapidly rose and fell, flatlining then shooting downward into the abyss. 

 

Wandering in the dead of night was a habit he always had. All the way from Heaven. He’d been a black sheep, insecure and worried about his place with the other angels. Excluded. 

 

He’d go down to Eden and tidy it, filling the garden with life. Tending to the Garden was one of the only things he knew to do. Playing with Adam and Lilith, as well as Eve when she entered the picture. 

 

After Falling, he’d done the similar in his mansion. Waving his hand over browning spots on their plants or healing wounds on their creatures. Then Creating and Creating and Creating till it lost all meaning. Lilith would pick his sorry ass up every time, letting him rest in her arms until he felt better. 

 

And when Charlie was born, he would often go sit in her room, watching over her crib while he sketched little ideas for toys. In wonderment such a tiny, bright and wonderful thing could ever come from him . He had no idea what children needed, what to do for her, so he just… Enjoyed making frivolous things with her in mind. The mere existence of his daughter started to spark hope that had been dead in him for an eternity.  

 

A brittle piece, just starting to pull himself together when Lilith finally had enough. Vanishing into thin air. It had been a long time coming, he knows. Estranged as they’d grown with Lucifer’s pathetic nature. His lack of action against Heaven out of fear, fear that they'd punish Lilith (again) or God-forbid Charlie for his transgressions. 

 

They fell apart for good and with it that fragile light crumpled. Shattered in a way that he couldn’t fix. Charlie pulled away from him. His wife, gone. He still loves Lilith, had for ten-thousand years. It wouldn’t fade. But he couldn’t even keep up with himself, let alone be there for his wife if she needed him. 

 

Lucifer’s room was his everything afterward, his world. Pacing and pacing in a cage he built. Eventually pacing and tripping as it became filled with useless wastes of Creation. The mindlessness of making numbed his mind. 

 

Soon he forgot time was passing at all. Missing Charlie grow up, leaving her alone like Lilith had. (And for the first time in all time, he felt enmity for his wife. Walking out on him was one thing, understandable and even justified. Walking out on Charlie was not.)

 

Now he has his second chance with Charlie, to get to know his daughter, and he did not want to waste it. 

 

Fucking Heaven, putting a target on his kid after he’d let them gratify their bored minds with Sinners? Lucifer had even helped organize the whole stupid deal. And what does he get? The one fucking thing he asked for, broken and disrespected. 

 

Lucifer should have seen it coming. They always demeaned him, and he always allowed them to do it. Their favorite Fallen joke. 

 

But not to his daughter. He won’t stand for it. If Sera wanted answers for Adam, she could take it up with the Devil himself. They broke their own deal and they’d paid for it. 

 

Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth as he trudged down the stairs and into the Hotel kitchen. He needs to make something. Something useful. He’d promised to work on the Spa with Charlie and there’s no way he’d give up working on that together. 

 

So he sets into restocking the kitchen. Tea bags, milk, sugar, meat. Lucifer fills their supplies to the brim. Whatever they could possibly need is now overflowing. 

 

Still unsatisfied, Lucifer growls to himself, a wisp of fire trailing from his mouth as he switches to plan B. 

 

With an angry wave of his hand, he creates a bottle of champagne. On reflex, he spawns more, the itch of Creation under his skin like a burn. Like he needs to do something — After making several he grabs one by the neck and flicks the top off. 

 

Unable to soothe the irritation crawling through him, Lucifer pulls himself onto a barstool, letting his wings fan out like a protective blanket and starts to partake in his creations. 

 

Typically, he was fairly light-weight. A few glasses of wine at some event or the other, he would be left with a comfortable buzz. 

 

Unfortunately, it never worked as such when he was frustrated like this. The fire in his mind would leave him thinking he’s sober until he blacked out. 

 

Lucifer’s on bottle number five when he hears the hotel door open. It’s three in the morning, who the Hell– 

 

His brain lags behind his body, as the suspicious party stumbles their way into the kitchen. Lucifer parts his wings, eyes red and teeth bared before he realizes… 

 

“Angel?”, Said demon startled at the sound of his name, like he didn’t realize Lucifer was there at all. 

 

“Oh fuck – Heya , short king.”, The boy starts, slouching as he uses the counter for support. “Drinkin’ at this hour? I won’t tell Charlie, that's a promise. Our little secret ~”, He winks. 

 

Lucifer stares. And he can absolutely blame it on how much he’s had when the words leave his mouth. “You look like ass.” 

 

Angel grows tense, like he wants to bark back but then remembers who exactly the fuck is saying it to him. “...Care ‘ta share, big boss?” 

 

Shitfaced, Lucifer holds out the bottle he’s half-finished to the Sinner. 

 

The demon grabs it like it’s a trap, with tense caution. Before he catches sight of the four empty bottles already sideways on the counter. “Glad to know drinkin’ to forget exists in high places too.”, Angel stumbles to the other side of the bar, saddling across from Lucifer. 

 

He takes a long, long chug from the bottle before putting it down and wiping his jaw. He takes a moment to appreciate that this tastes expensive in the best way before placing it on the counter. Just in time to catch the King flicking the cap off another cruet. 

 

Lucifer’s wings settle back around him, only leaving half of his face showing beneath row after row of feathers. 

 

The two drink in silence. When the clutter of empty bottles gets cumbersome, Lucifer banishes them away with a dramatic flare of hellfire. Lighting up the kitchen with bright flames and muffled screams to wipe out their existence. 

 

Angel takes a second to just… Stare. At Lucifer. The Devil. The head-honcho. King.

 

…Charlie’s charmingly awkward dad who helped them rebuild the hotel. Who saved their ass in the battle against the Angels and did so with ease . He wants to ask why the dude is drowning himself in their kitchen surrounded by bottles of liquor that cover every surface but… What the fuck could Angel do for the guy? 

 

Against his better judgment, he still acts on the next idea his own buzzed mind gives him. “...Can I ask ya something, big boss?” 

 

One of Lucifer’s wings shifts downward, showing the tired face of the king beneath it. 

 

“With all your power and shit...Can ya break a deal from a sinner?”, Angel wants to shove the words right back into his stupid mouth. 

 

Lucifer blinks at him, slow, obviously intoxicated. His mind replaying what he told Charlie earlier in the day. “Uh. I never really tried– hic– Contracts can get messy. If it gets broken like, fucked up, the soul in it can be damaged or lost. ‘S Dangerous .” 

 

Angel heaves a heavy sigh. “Thought so.” 

 

“Is this about your piece’a shit boss?”, Lucifer’s wings fully part, revealing more of the man beneath. He’s in a loose white bathrobe and boxers with ducky print. He pulls it off well. The Ruler of Hell, and he definitely ain't bad looking. Angel’s mind is stuck on that before he realizes what the King asked. 

 

“...Just wondering, is all.”

 

“That asshole is the reason you look like fuck right now?”, The sentence doesn’t really make sense but Angel gets what he’s saying. He knows he looks rough. 

 

He sighs. “Nothin’ ta worry about, short king. I got myself handled.” 

 

Lucifer’s delayed mind remembers what Charlie had told him in a dizzying order. Her worries about the guy and his boss using him. He can’t break the contract without knowing the details, and even then it's still risky. 

 

But… If he helps this guy, he helps his daughter with her burdens? Useful??? 

 

The sinner seemed like a good enough kid. Supportive of his Charlie and earnestly trying to become a better person. Feels like the kind of behavior that should be rewarded. 

 

What can Lucifer do to help that’s. Good? Charlie wouldn’t want him to abuse his power as King. Wouldn’t want him to show off. Which sucks, because that’s what he’s best at. He lives to be showy. 

 

Firstly, he wants to create. The bone deep urge to make. 

 

Hm. Maybe. Some kind of. Inconvenience??? 

 

Like a prank? 

 

Aha ! Lucifer chuckles to himself. That's perfect. It wouldn’t be too violent or over the top. Just some 

 

“You uh. Good , short king?”, Angel watches as Lucifer starts hysterically laughing into his own hand. 

 

“Perfect! Never- hic – better!”, Lucifer hops down from his spot at the counter, stumbling on the edge of his robe before flying up towards his room in a graceless ball of red and white. 

 

Angel watches him vanish up the stairs with wide eyes. 

 

…What in the Hell was that about? 

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“What the fuck are these things?!”, Valentino all but shrieks. He’s perched on a nearby set-piece staring down at the ground before gritting his teeth. “Don’t just stand there, idiots! Fucking kill them!” 

 

All actors, camera-persons, and studio bystanders are avoiding the ground by any means. Peeking down to see hundreds, if not thousands, of white fuzzy mice. The little creatures scurrying around the atelier. Chewing through every wire they passed over, through the furniture, all non-living material was gnawed through and destroyed. 

 

Angel blinks. Once, then twice. Then again after he rubs his eyes to confirm the reality in front of him. Looking at the havoc wrought as he walks through the door for his shift. The panic, the lights are all out from their wires being sundered, co-stars all cowering from… Tiny little rodents run around on the floor. Up banisters and over set-pieces. 

 

A few circled around Angel’s boots, one braving its way up them. Angel bends slightly and grabs it before it could make its way to his shorts. It yields to his grabs with a cute squeak. Its fluffy fur is softer than anything Angel had ever felt. It’s calm in his hands as he brings the lil’ thing up to his face for closer examination. It definitely was a mouse, no rat had a face this darn cute. At least the rats in New York didn’t. 

 

It squeaks again, and Angel resists the urge to coo. Before taking notice of something a touch odd. 

 

The mouse’s tiny face had pink circles on its cheek, like some kinda Pokèmon. Soft, pristine white fur. Black little paws that lay calm against Angel’s fingers. A twinkle of mischief in their red beady eyes. They looked… Very… Very… Familiar. 

 

Angel huffs a disbelieving laugh. No fuckin’ way. Absolutely no fuckin’ way. 

 

He pets it across the head with his thumb and the creature lets out a happy squeak before dissolving into a fine shower of red and golden glitter. 

 

“What the hell are you standing around for, Angel!”, Valentino barks. “Do something about them or you’re fired!” 

 

“Promise?”, Angel bends down, picking up a few more mice and holding them by the armful. Val doesn’t find it as funny and Angel knows when to backpedal with the prissy bitch. “Yeah yeah yeah. I got it.” 

 

Himself and the guards learn quickly that the mice can't be killed by being crushed, stabbed or set on fire. They had to be captured, pet, and only then would they disparate. Leaving behind some sort of “forever glitter” that stuck to every surface, flesh, fur, or fabric. 

 

Angel had all six arms employed in mouse-petting duty. Valentino had stormed off, declaring himself above something so stupid and fucking off for the rest of the night. Several of the other actors and actresses, the good ones, joined in on the cause. 

 

It took hours before the floor was finally clear of critters. Some were impossible to get, disappearing into the walls for another day. He sat in the middle of the floor, his lap full of soft mice, covered in sparkling glitter, Angel laughed to himself. Petting each one and watching them disperse. It’d been some of the most fun he's had in a long, long time in this cursed fucking studio. 

 

“Not bad, short king. Not bad at all.”

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Notes:

Bother me @CorpseField on Twitter

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Deversorium Diabolus Pater