Prompt: Tell the story of Lucifer, in which Lucifer is female.

“To feel fire, is to feel desire and passion for that which I love. And if I cannot desire with the will I am given, then let my soul’s passion die out without chance of me rekindling the flames. For then, I have nothing left worth living for…”


In a time of Earthlessness, there was no man to protect nor watch over. The morning rose once and never let us experience darkness, in a perfect world. White-clad angels, doing God’s bidding, for He had plans. If you listened to him, you were along for the ride of a lifetime, but if not… There was no other option.

“I love You. But I love her as well. My love for You shall not wane simply from this, my service shall not falter, but I ask of You. Do not act so rashly I beg of you.”

While at the time, we were God’s greatest creation, we were not infallible. To be clean of mistakes and so perfect was to put ourselves on the same level as Him, yet to be mindless drones was to leave Him as alone as He once was before us. So we had free will to an extent one would assume all should be happy with.

“I feel like a part of me has been torn from my mind. My soul, my being. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m missing something dreadfully important. Perhaps I forgot something that was asked of me.”

To look back now, past bloodshed and millennia of distrust and chaos, it is obvious now. God didn’t want friendship, unless it was a relationship he could toy with. He didn’t want love, unless it was you loving him. No, God- god wanted nothing more than a plaything. Our primary function was to be the babysitters of his next big plan, powerful enough to kill things in check but not too strong to challenge him. With an ego as strong as his, it’s unsurprising that he underestimates his own creation.

“You…You DID THIS! You took her from me! Samael, Samael! Where have you put my Samael! How could you do this, just tear open her place in my heart and leave the hole! You…you…YOU MONSTER!”

One could call me bitter. Just a rueful old hag that’s had too much time to mull over what’s been done to me in my soulless existence, but the one to insult the Devil herself is the one to find themselves woefully subject to my attention. Only one deserves what was once the shine of this star. The rest can have the black hole that remains.

“I can’t be crazy, Michele tell me I’m not mad! You were always kindest, please, help me! Gabrielle, you wish for justice do you not? Why does no one see what’s wrong?! Today, God has faulted!”

I have few regrets. I wish more angels were dragged down with me. I wish that mankind wasn’t so easy to puppeteer around so that I could have a good distraction. I wish that different choices were made. I tried to make things interesting afterwards. The first to die was me, in a way. Falling was more than just descending from Heaven to the inner core of a half-built world. The fires were stronger than they are now. My wings were ripped from my back, my soul stolen from me. I cannot properly die without it. So I remain, ruler of a suspended Limbo, where god throws the trash projects that don’t turn out how he wants them to. Pity, he thinks he can find a balance of kindness and free will. What a blind fool.

“I don’t care if I sound foolish, You’re the one who cannot admit wrong! You cannot just sweep this under some carpet and pretend it never happened! How many times!? How many of us started out? How many angels have you removed from Heaven, thinking that if you just plucked them from existence, from our memories, that things would continue smoothly without them?”

Perhaps in hindsight confronting god on his own throne wasn’t smart.

“Shall you remove me as well? How will history progress without your precious choirmaster, your morning star? Oh forbid if your little entertainment troop has no conductor!”

Yet then again…

“I’d rather leave this realm then continue without Samael.”

If I didn’t make a stand, who would?

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