This idea was running around in my head. I kept seeing how Angel and Charlie have kind of a brother-sister relationship in a lot of fanfics. So I figured what if Lucifer had actually adopted Angel? I mean, Lucifer could have the power to free Angel from his contract and I think he would make a good parent to Angel. Enjoy and let me know if you guys think I should continue with this idea or just leave it as a oneshot.

The streets of Pentagram City were eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos that usually filled the air. Lucifer Morningstar rarely ventured out from his palace, preferring the comforts of his domain, but tonight had been different. Something had called to him—a presence, faint and fragile, buried within the shadows of a dilapidated alley. Lucifer's golden eyes scanned the darkness until they landed on a crumpled figure slumped against a brick wall. His sharp senses told him the demon was still alive, but barely. The scent of blood and despair was thick, mingling with the stench of cheap perfume and cigarettes.

As he stepped closer, his gaze softened. It was Angel Dust, the infamous spider demon, barely recognizable beneath the bruises, scratches, and blood that marred his pale skin. His pink fur was matted, and his usually vibrant eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion. He was dressed in barely-there rags that told the story of the night he had just endured. Lucifer crouched beside him, his imposing presence softened by genuine concern. "You're in a sorry state, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice low but warm.

Angel barely stirred, but a faint, pained groan escaped his lips. "W-what... who?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible.

"Shh," Lucifer said, placing a hand on Angel's forehead. It was cold and clammy. Feverish. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Angel flinched at the touch but didn't have the strength to pull away. His entire body trembled, the trauma of the night weighing him down. Lucifer sighed, carefully lifting Angel into his arms. The spider demon weighed almost nothing, a shocking contrast to his usually vibrant, confident demeanor. "Let's get you somewhere safe," Lucifer said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Angel awoke to warmth and softness; two sensations he couldn't remember feeling in ages. He blinked, his vision adjusting to golden chandeliers and a roaring fireplace. The bed beneath him was massive, draped in silk sheets, and the air smelled of cedarwood and incense.

A child's voice broke the silence. "Daddy, who's that?"

Angel's head turned slowly toward the source. Standing in the doorway was a young girl, no older than five, with blonde hair and curious golden eyes. She wore a white nightgown and clutched a stuffed rabbit. Lucifer appeared beside her, his towering form a stark contrast to her small frame. "Charlie, sweetheart, this is Angel," he said gently. "He's hurt, so he'll be staying with us for a little while."

Charlie tilted her head, her curiosity unmasked. "He's pretty," she said matter-of-factly.

Angel managed a weak chuckle. "Kid's got taste," he croaked, his voice hoarse.

Lucifer smiled faintly. "Go back to bed, my darling. I'll check on you soon."

Charlie nodded, casting one last look at Angel before scampering off.

Lucifer returned to Angel's side, a first-aid kit in hand. As he carefully cleaned the cuts on Angel's arms, he spoke. "How did this happen?"

Angel hesitated, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "You wouldn't get it."

"Try me," Lucifer pressed, his tone firm but kind.

Angel sighed shakily. "It's Valentino. He owns me. My soul, my body... everything. Nights like this? They're just part of the deal."

Lucifer froze, his eyes narrowing. "Your soul?"

Angel nodded, his voice bitter. "Sold it a long time ago. Thought it'd be worth it. Turns out, it's hell."

Lucifer's expression darkened, a cold fury simmering beneath his composed exterior. "You mean to tell me that wretched peacock has bound your soul to him?"

Angel shrugged weakly. "Yeah, but what can ya do? It's Hell, right?"

Lucifer stood abruptly, his towering form radiating power. "Not on my watch."

Angel blinked, confused. "What're you gonna do?"

Lucifer's gaze burned with righteous determination. "I'm going to free you."

Lucifer spent hours tending to Angel's wounds, his movements precise and careful. Angel flinched occasionally but said nothing, too exhausted to protest. The King's calm demeanor was a stark contrast to the storm raging in Angel's mind. "Why are you doin' this?" Angel asked eventually, his voice trembling.

Lucifer paused, meeting his gaze. "Because no one deserves to be treated like this, Angel. Not even in Hell."

Angel's throat tightened. "You don't even know me."

"I don't need to," Lucifer replied. "What I do know is that you deserve better than this."

The following days were surreal for Angel Dust. Staying in the Morningstar Palace felt like being in another world; far removed from the chaos and cruelty of his life with Valentino. The air was peaceful, the halls grand and welcoming. He was treated like a guest, not a commodity, and the change was as disorienting as it was comforting. Charlie became his shadow, her endless curiosity and boundless energy bringing life to his days. She followed him around the palace, asking countless questions and tugging him into games.

Lucifer observed their growing bond from a distance, his sharp eyes softening whenever he saw Charlie pulling Angel into another game or Angel braiding her hair with surprising tenderness. One evening, as the palace quieted for the night, Angel found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his reflection in a gilded mirror. The bruises were fading, the cuts healing, but the scars, both visible and unseen remained. A knock at the door broke his thoughts. "Come in," Angel called his voice subdued.

Lucifer entered, his imposing figure framed by the warm glow of the hallway. In his hands was a steaming cup of tea. "I thought you might need this," Lucifer said, placing the cup on the nightstand.

Angel looked up at him, his expression wary. "Why are you doing all this for me?"

Lucifer pulled up a chair, sitting across from him. "I told you, Angel. No one deserves the life you've been living. You've been through more than anyone should endure, and yet, here you are. That speaks to your strength, even if you don't see it."

Angel swallowed hard, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "Strength? I'm not strong. I sold my soul for a shot at fame, and look where it got me."

Lucifer leaned forward, his gaze piercing but kind. "Strength isn't about never making mistakes. It's about surviving them. And now, you have a chance to start over."

Angel's throat tightened, and he looked away. "I don't know if I can."

"You can," Lucifer said firmly. "And you won't have to do it alone."

A few weeks later, the Morningstar Palace was alive with the sound of Charlie's laughter echoing through the halls. Angel Dust had settled into his new life, though the scars of his past still lingered. One evening, as they all sat in the lounge after dinner, Lucifer set down his glass of wine and cleared his throat, drawing Angel's attention. "Angel," Lucifer began, his tone measured yet warm, "I've been considering something rather important, and I'd like your thoughts on it."

Angel raised an eyebrow, cautiously intrigued. "Alright. What's on your mind, big guy?"

Lucifer smirked at the nickname but continued. "You've been here for some time now, and I've seen how well you've bonded with Charlie, and even with me."

Angel shifted in his seat, suddenly self-conscious. "I mean... you guys are the closest thing I've got to a real family."

Lucifer leaned forward, his crimson eyes locking onto Angel's. "What if we made that official?"

Angel blinked, caught off guard. "Official? You mean like...?"

"I want to adopt you," Lucifer said plainly, his words carrying both gravity and warmth.

Charlie, who had been drawing on the floor nearby, gasped in delight. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Daddy, can we? Please?"

Angel blinked, his mind reeling. "You... you want me to stay?"

Lucifer nodded. "Charlie has already taken to you, and I believe you could benefit from the stability we can provide. Think of it as a second chance—a chance to rebuild your life on your terms."

Charlie stepped forward, her golden eyes wide with hope. "Please stay, Angel! We can have tea parties and play hide-and-seek, and I can show you all my toys!"

Angel's heart stopped. The words felt surreal, like a dream, he wasn't sure he wanted to wake from. "You want to adopt me? Are you sure you've got the right guy? I mean, look at me. I'm not exactly..."

Lucifer cut him off with a raised hand. "You've been through Hell; literally and figuratively. But what I see is someone who, despite everything, still has the capacity for love, loyalty, and for change. You belong here, Angel. And I'd be honored to call you my son."

Angel's throat tightened, and he struggled to find the right words. "I... I don't know what to say. I've never had a real dad before. Hell, I barely know what that's supposed to feel like."

Lucifer then summoned the adoption papers for Angel to sign. Angel wanted to sign it but then he thought about what Valentino might do to him if he did this. But one look at Lucifer and Charlie's faces; made the decision easy. Angel took the pen and then he signed the papers with his real living name, Anthony. "Anthony, huh?" Lucifer said, reading the signature. "Nice name."

"It's just my live name. I stopped going by it after I gave my soul to Val and changed it to Angel." Angel stated.

"Well, if you want, we can call you Anthony or Angel. We want you to be comfortable." Lucifer explained.

"You can call me Anthony. Honestly, I'm tired of being Angel Dust." Angel answered.

Lucifer smiled, his usually stern demeanor softening. "Then by my authority as the King of Hell, I hereby declare you my son. From this day forward, you are Anthony Morningstar."

A warmth spread through Angel's chest as the weight of the words settled in. He wasn't just a guest or a temporary fixture in their lives—he was family. Charlie threw her arms around him, her laughter ringing out as she squealed, "You're my big brother now! Forever and ever!"

Angel hugged her tightly, his heart full in a way it hadn't been in years. That evening, as the family gathered in the grand dining hall, Lucifer presented Angel with a single piece of paper that Angel knew all too well. "Is that...?"

"Your contract," Lucifer said simply. "Or rather, what's left of it. I've nullified Valentino's claim on your soul. You're free."

Angel stared at him in disbelief. "You did that... for me?"

Lucifer nodded. "Yep. The adoption papers made your contract null and void."

Angel's hands trembled as he opened the book, finding the once-binding pages reduced to ashes. He looked up at Lucifer, his voice breaking. "Thank you... Dad."

Lucifer smiled, placing a hand on Angel's shoulder. "Welcome home, my son."

In the days that followed, Angel began to embrace his new life as a Morningstar. He spent his mornings playing with Charlie and his afternoons exploring the palace. Slowly but surely, the weight of his past began to lift. One evening, as he tucked Charlie into bed, she looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "I'm glad you're here, Anthony. I always wanted a big brother."

Angel kissed her forehead, his heart full. "And I always wanted a family."

For the first time in decades, Angel Dust felt truly at peace. He wasn't just surviving anymore; he was living.