Work Text:
“Why did I ever give birth to you?”
—free-falling through the sky, unable to fly—
“Do you still believe Lucifer will come to your rescue, reincarnated as you are not as his blood brother, but something I had the misfortune of conceiving and giving birth to?”
—air rushed by, kicked from heaven yet again as fingers reached up—
“If I had known I was carrying the reincarnation of a demon in my holy womb…”
—implication, misfortune of even existing, mute experience unable to resolve—
“But then unfortunately that would mean for your twin, if you get my drift...”
—abandoned, cast aside, unloved, memories of past life—
“I’ve had enough of your continued existence Azazel, so I’ll now be rid of you.”
—bones shattering, pain through the entire body as mouth opened agape, screaming silently, wings ripped from—
“Azazel?”
…
A small nose sniffed the air; the smell of food cooking drew him from a deep slumber. Purple eyes snapped open as he sat up, only for a gurgle to escape as pain coursed through his backside and he fell back into the sheets tangled around his bone-thin frame.
And then he saw the two girls watching him, staring, dressed in uniforms matching in style yet differing in color; the one with blond hair pulled into pigtails glared at him, looking far from impressed, not to mention the disdain in her eyes—
Azazel let out a hiss, his body still attempting to move, the smell of food drawing him to try and sit up again while the other girl with her white hair tried to coax him into lying back down, and having nothing to do with that—
He tried biting her, only for the other to hit the top of his head with the side of her hand as she turned her head as if she didn’t see him as a threat, reminding him of the state of his reincarnated body. “Anos,” the girl called out, “Why exactly are you interested in this fallen angel child again?”
Azael’s eyes blinked, his head turning, hoping—
Only for a hiss to escape as pain erupted, but he saw the damage done, and a gurgle of frustration escaped his throat. “Be nice, Sasha. It’s not nice to call an angel fallen simply because they fell from the sky, but I’ve not heard of angels being kicked out of heaven since the time of the first demon king.”
“He fell, thus fallen angel Misha,” the other girl said. “And don’t get so close to that feral thing. That’s likely why they threw him out, and we’re now having to deal with him.”
“Nonsense,” came a voice, and—
Azazel paid no mind, instead seeing the food set down and—
“Azazel, stop,” the voice commanded.
He froze, stiffening, not so much from recognizing the voice, but instead—
—food on mouth while that familiar power—
Hands reached out, gently lifting, shifting him into a seated position on their lap, arm carefully navigating his injured back as fingers massaged the back of Azazel’s neck, accompanied by the familiar feeling of something long forgotten, something—
“You named the child after the fallen angel Azazel?” Sasha said, frowning.
“Wasn’t he, like, one of the demon lords of the first demon king?” Misha asked.
Azazel shook his head, his mind not processing what was said, his head tilting back to see what the reincarnation of that person looked like.
“Yeah. He fought with Lucifer, the second demon king, for the throne and lost,” Sasha continued, and—
Azazel let out a hiss, but then glanced up, “Then the first demon king?”
“I believe the history books are rather wrong on that,” the person said, as Azazel leaned back. “Careful.” One hand rested on Azazel’s back, while the other wiped food away, before reaching for the spoon Azazel paid no inclination towards, desperate he was for any scrap of food. “Azazel certainly objects to that description of his and Lucifer’s relationship.”
“Hold on…” Sasha said.
“I call him Azazel because this is who I know to be Azazel,” the demon holding Azazel in his lap said, lifting the spoon to Azazel’s mouth.
Purple eyes closed, the egg and sausage tasting so much better than the scraps—
“Why can’t Calix have any other food?”
Only for her to lie about him being sick, as she—
A finger on the chin, “Swallow, little one.”
He did, his eyes remaining closed.
“Was that…”
—connection with Lucifer taken away—
“Right, but open up,” and this time a slice of bread went in, toast and Azazel latched on. “My mother made this food for you.”
Azazel glanced up, head tilting, giving him a look of confusion.
“Third incarnation, but I waited for you two brothers, wondering what happened.”
“Wait?” Sasha frowned. “First demon lord and the last are the same?”
Azazel plopped against the reincarnation of Satan, the familiarity far more comforting than the familiarity of—
“The memories aren’t as easy to access,” the individual said, “But one of the reasons I wanted to retain my memories this time around is I was still waiting for Lucifer and Azazel. And I doubt the two fought for the throne, given they’re blood siblings.”
Azazel bit his lip, eyes closing.
—connection taken away—
“At least, they were.” A spoonful of egg pressed against his lips, and Azazel complied.
“What happened, Anos?”
“I’m not sure, but Azazel?” Fingers played through locks of hair, much the same way as they did when Azazel first hatched in hell, and the demon lord helped Lucifer care for the younger fallen angel. “He’d recognize your magic source, that you are still Azazel.”
“Change it back. Give me back the connection. I want the blood tie.” The toast crunched as Azazel bit down in frustration.
“That…” Anos said, setting the spoon on the plate.
“You’re going to rewrite his blood ties?” Misha asked.
Fingers lifted, but then paused. “No. That…” There came a pause. “Interesting. That explains…” and then, “No. I’m not.”
“Please!” Azazel’s eyes closed.
“No,” Anos said, attempting to coax Azazel to eat more food. “You’ll understand better later on, but what of your bond with Kallista, the twin of your reincarnated self?”
Mouth opened, and food—
Food almost went down the wrong way, and then the sob.
“Anos?”
“I’ll explain later,” Anos said, running fingers through Azazel’s hair, “But that one who will treat one of my children that way will definitely pay.”
“But he’s not a descendant like us,” Sasha said.
“Azazel was the youngest of the fallen angels of his era; Lucifer was his brother, but I sort of raised them, not that Lucifer needed much raising, but he certainly needed help keeping this rambunctious little one in check.”
And then—
“She will certainly pay for what she’s done to both you and Lucifer,” Anos said. “I promise.”
More food, more comfort, and—
“There will be more where that came from, but my mother’s already talking about having another child to care for, Azazel.”
Azazel flinched, almost choking on the egg.
“She’s not like the mother who gave birth to your reincarnated self, I promise.”
“Trust you,” Azazel thought, sending said thought to Anos.
Food brought comfort, a full belly, and taste other than porridge meant safety, but the source of the food—
Apparently that meant safety as well.