Hell was difficult to describe, it was a maze of halls, locked doors lacing the face of them. The halls seem to expand every second, filled with the dead flocking in, forcing their guilt to torture them for the rest of eternity until they forgave themselves. Most never made it out of the underworld, enduring their torture until their souls gave up and the memory of their existence faded from the mind of the living.

The maze always seemed silent, but Lucifer knew better. The halls were deafened by the screams of the tortured, begging for a release, to be forgotten or saved. The twisting walls always led to one place, the center of the kingdom, where his throne sat atop it all. Hell had not changed in the thousands of years he had been trapped there.

The landscape never repaired itself, damage done by wars stayed the same, a permanent reminder of pain and suffering (his fall was had caused some of the most damage to Hell, being forced down several realms without the use of his wings to slow his fall had damaged the land to such an extreme extent. Just as it had his body. Maze was the only one to know of the damage he had done, though. She had found him next to the Be'er Shachat, his wings bound and body covered in wounds. She believed he would die, deciding to sit beside him in what she believed his final moments to be).

His siblings would hate it here, all who come here do. Lucifer despised his lands, despised the rules of who was put there. None of it was fair, but God believed his ways to be right, that bad people would feel guilt for the things they've done, and that the good would have nothing to fear in the afterlife.

It was a load of shit. Parris wasn't a bad person, he didn't deserve to be put in eternal damnation because of a made-up law in a book the God had no idea existed. Lucifer stood in front of a newly made door, an emerald hanging from his ear and a yearning in his chest. His hand lay on the knob, shaking the slightest bit. Parris would want to see him, he would want to braid his hair again, he would want to take his hand and lead him into a waltz.

Lucifer swallowed, and turned his back to the door.

The hallway had grown a good bit, walls towering over him, ensuring that an escape attempt wouldn't be possible. The door he was looking for was harder to find than he would have hoped, it had only been a month or so since he had been there, but death had never been on too slow.

His hair had grown longer, the white tips of the ends stretching farther than they had originally had, a reminder that he was the Lightbringer, who had hung the stars and made life possible (a reminder that his father had taken away what he had made, casting him into darkness and ensuring that no more stars could be made. The stars would die and he couldn't make any new ones, not here. Not here not here not here not-). The emerald swung slightly with each step he took, the faint jingle piercing the screams that made the halls silent.

He stopped in front of the door, the wood had already begun to fade, the mental just already rusting despite so little time passing. Ash fell, covering the floor in a faint attempt at snow. It was warm, here.

Lucifer swallowed, breath shaky and eyes stinging. He didn't move his arms, standing at the from of the door that haunted his waking days (not dreams, the Devil didn't deserve respite, not when innocent souls were blocked from heaven because his father didn't want to admit he had made the universe broken, not when he couldn't bring himself to go back to Earth and to the home they had shared).

His hair grew the slightest bit longer, and the ash piled on the floor grew the slightest bit higher.

He turned away and continued to walk the halls.

It had been a year in the overworld, and a good lot longer in Hell.

Ash had begun to pile higher, no one bothering to sweep the mess away. Demons were busy torturing people who didn't deserve it and the Death Bringers were prowling the outskirts of the kingdom with hunger stinging at them, and ash continued to fall.

It cushioned Lucifer's footsteps, nothing to break the awful silence but a gem on a chain. He hated it here, he hated his father and his siblings and his mother, and they seemed to hate him in return. He was okay with that (he wasn't, he wasn't because he just wanted to be loved and wanted and to not feel used at every turn of the way. He just wanted his family back, he wanted a home. But he didn't get one. Lucifer wasn't Samael, it had been clear that the moment his father looked at him with anger in his eyes that he had lost his place in his families hearts), they could hate him all they wanted, and he would return the favor.

The door had begun to decay, the soul still trapped in a cycle of torture because Lucifer didn't want to let go of memories of late night dances and hurried kisses. His hair had continued to grow, white stands lacing through the black and he wanted nothing more than to have it braided.

Lucifer lifted a hand to the door, turning the knob the slightest bit before retreating like it had burned him. Parris didn't deserve to be in Hell, and all Lucifer needed to do was go in there and tell him he could leave, could go to Heaven and be free and happy (he couldn't follow him, letting Parris into his father's domain would mean that he could never see Parris again, not without dying and being sent back to Hell). He sucked in a breath, pushing the door open, weariness tugging at his bones.

The room was soft, the two of them laid together in bed with light streaming in from the windows. He watched the scene play out, a meek replica of him promising the world, to follow him to the ends of the universe and back. Darkness swarmed in, and he watched as Parris's face fell, exhaustion pulling his shoulders down as the bed disappeared. A policeman stood in front of him, forcing him down and kicking him. Lucifer felt ill, he hadn't been there. The officer pulled a gun, shouting something at Parris, aiming the barrel at his stomach, the shot wouldn't kill him immediately, instead drawing out his suffering. Parris closed his eyes,

"Just get it over with."

And Lucifer broke.

He waved his hand, the demon looked up at him, confusion on its face. Parris still had his eyes closed, body shaking, waiting for the blow to come. "You can have your leave," The demon nodded, brushing past him and into the ash-filled halls. Parris opened his eyes, glassy gaze focusing on Lucifer, and sat up. Lucifer felt his eyes sting, and he fell to his knees in front of the other, "I'm sorry,' His voice broke, and his tears spilled over.

He bowed his head, hair falling over his face, and brought a hand up to his mouth, trying to muffle his cries. "Sam, Sammy-" And hearing his name hurt . It hurt because he knew that Parris was suffering and here he was turning it about himself-

A hand brought his head up, forcing him to look into the green eyes that plagued his mind. Parris was crying, tears spilling down his face, and Lucifer- Samael , wondered if he looked the same. Samael smiled, "I missed you."

Can't believe pride months almost over and no one's written about Lucifer having a boyfriend smh