"Fie. You hardly match all of the texts or the hype. She'd see how you're a silly old fuddy-duddy obsessed with rubber ducks and desperate to care for your daughter and be sold immediately."
He chuckled, softly.
"Though she'd never put up with any sass. She'd tweak the ears of men thrice her size for disrespecting her. I doubt you being the literal Devil would dissuade her."
He looked as if struck, flabbergasted, and planted fists upon his hips. "Wha- Fuddy-duddy!? Look who's talking, you Prohibition Era relic!"
But talk of tweaking ears had him glad he sort of didn't have any. Still, the threat was very there and very real. He believed this lady would kick his ass. Smart men never doubted that.
Hahah! Alastor leaned on his hands again, back to kicking his legs. "Sooo? What hellborn candidate would you scoop up to surrogate? Or would you just adopt, skip the fuss in that regard?"
Because the Sinner's curse, right? Lilith must not have quite counted as a Sinner or had that curse, herself.
"If you pick a hellhound, I'll bite you for punishment~"
Ahh, that was a story to share another day. Folk never asked!
But Lucifer momentarily looked confused with talk of surrogates. Adoption was also an option, but... had he the heart to inflict that sort of future on the child, the 'pity adoption', the 'charity case'? As his heart twisted, he made a note to make an anonymous donation later.
"Pfft- As if you need an excuse to bite me. But there's..."
Lucifer dismissed his glass. It freed his hands to fidget a bit. He was looking practically anywhere else, but kept his features neutral as he hitched his shoulders and decided to throw it all out there:
"...There's a third option. I did retain my power of... Creation. And I'm a shapeshifter."
God, why is he telling him this? This was nuts. It's weird. It's weird, isn't it, just- just volunteering things like this...
--Ah. Alastor's ears were up and alert, because-- WELL then. Did Lucifer use his magic to help create Charlie with Lilith? There's-- a lot of different thoughts all at once, but what escapes Alastor is a surprised laugh.
"Hah! Did you defy Heaven's curse of barren Sinners to create dear Charlie? Hahahah! What a triumph of defiance!"
How could one not admire something as spiteful and powerful as that??
He couldn't help breaking out into a grin, relieved. "I mean, they could only stop me from doing so many things with their decision...!"
His shoulders relaxed. "Hah! I can't take all the credit- Lily cooked up Charlie- Buuut, if she ever wanted more children, I dunno- I could have offered to take turns. How's that for dedication? ...I mean, not that it... matters anymore..."
He paused, shook his head. None of that. Lucifer snickered, hugging himself a bit. "Unholy Hell, you took that really well...!"
Never you mind about what Lilith would've wanted - you're here in the now, talking about taking a turn with someone else, after all!
"You can turn into a goose, a goat, a snake - taking a form to carry a child would simply be child's play. It is the Devil I'm consorting with - the Creator's Plan hardly matters."
Alastor just chuckled, moving and wrapping an arm around Lucifer's waist to pull him closer, so he was seated on the countertop right in front of him.
"I wager you could do the same to others. The old talk of your servants on Earth turning others to toads with hexes, and so on! If you can defy the Curse on Sinners, then changing the body is certainly no challenge. Hah. Listen to me puffing up your feathers even more!" he chuckled fondly, drumming his fingers on Lucifer's hips. "I accept. I'll give you a little fawn, perhaps a peryton, one way or another."
"The Plan is boring! I choose to ignore it and substitute it with my own." He lifted his nose(?) and helped himself to a smug little head swaggle.
The king gave a small, surprised little giggle with the grab and neatly slid into place before him. He braced his hands upon Alastor's shoulders and settled. He had the right of it- Lucifer's price was always rather high, but the reward was just so. True Luciferian practitioners were very few, and very far between. "Bingo! No Curse or Deal ever stood a chance with me."
But by all means, keep this up! With his touch upon his hips, the acceptance, and the promise... he felt his face heat and gave a lopsided grin.
"Oof, fuck- you uh... you sure you're not in that rut already? You haven't even chased me yet and you're talking in the vicinity of dirty right now."
"Am I? Or am I just tickling something of your fancy?" Alastor chuckled, pleased and amused at how cute and flustered his partner was. The more he settled into the idea, the 'plan' to ingratiate himself so he wouldn't be discarded, the more confident he felt.
And, yes, true enough - a little fawn to call his own sounded like a bit of fun. Madness, but a fun madness.
"Best hear the sweet words now, because they'll be few and far between when I properly lose my mind. Shall I fill your head with fun fantasies to dream about until then?"
"Of course you are, sweetheart. I saw how you held your middle at the mere thought of it," Alastor purred, rubbing circles at Lucifer's sides with his thumbs. Narrow, skinny... so likely to skip meals because he simply lost track of time.
"Oh, your frustrations and woes will change - you'll gripe you're too spoiled and pampered. Carefully fed, gently massaged, a kingly treatment you'll never get otherwise~" he teased a bit, leaning a little close to nibble at Lucifer's wrist even as it was folded. "I'll give my darling doe everything he wants and needs~. Tender nibbles on the skin, none too deep! I have to leave you be, but what sweet torture the wait will be, watching you grow more and more ripe with each passing day. See you grow out with a fawn, in defiance of all Creation, something divine and powerful in a way that will make all realms tremble in awe."
Spoiling and pampering was good. Massages... really? He hadn't gone to have a massage in years, and his shoulders already were reminding him of this. Alastor nibbled, made promises. Made it harder to think.
Being called a 'darling doe' made him scoff a bit, but the way his gaze scattered briefly from the deer's face gave away the abashed pleasure. It was fine, shut up, but actually don't, please-
But Alastor had well and truly won the game. Steam visibly rising from his head, the king was left with a good number of dream material and fantasy lingering in the wrinkles of his brain.
And he'll put a cherry on top by tugging Lucifer just a little closer, so that Alastor could press a fond little kiss on Lucifer's shirt, over the naval. Where he promised a fawn will be.
Hohohoh. He'll take that victory. Alastor wrapped his arms around Lucifer and cuddled... his tail would be waggling in delight.
"Of course, if it's a heat this year, you'll be in charge of spoiling me instead," he teased fondly, nuzzling against the man's middle. "But it sounds like we're hoping it's a rut, hmm?"
"All of Hell would see what a trophy you've claimed. How powerful you still are~! And oh hoh, whichever happens first, I just know that dear Charlie is going to squeak in delight and cry at the same time," Alastor laughed, jovial.
"But if the fawns have wings like yours, Cher, you'll have to assure them that their cute little chicken wing phases are perfectly normal and not embarrassing at all."
Charlie would absolutely flip her lid, that's for sure. That'd be a conversation to have, if anything did happen.
But Lucifer started, and tweaked those itty-bitty antennae antlers of his. "What I'll assure them is that they aren't chicken wings and their old man is being an asshole!"
...There it is. That's the word that's been... floating uncertainly between them, after all. Alastor may not understand how or why, but far be it from him to doubt the King knows his own feelings after millennia of existence. And having felt love, and known it, in that time.
Alastor didn't answer, letting his hands rub up and down Lucifer's back instead. He couldn't answer for sure if he felt the same... he felt something. It was similar but decidedly different than how attached he'd felt to his mother. It was different than his fondness for Rosie or Mimzy, or the joy he felt in ruffling the feathers of someone like Angel or Husk. Or Charlie, sometimes.
Moments before in this very conversation, Alastor hadn't really felt averse to the idea of having a child with Lucifer. Was that love? That sort of... comfort, that Alastor wasn't used to feeling. He always figured there was certainty in knowing that if Lucifer truly wished, Alastor would just be obliterated - there's nothing Alastor could offer the King except company and madness. And Lucifer just said he loves him for that.
"Hmm. Come here," Alastor finally hummed, stepping down from the barstool and lifting Lucifer, setting him to his feet. It was there that he pulled the man into a dance, smooth and steady, as the radio nearby crackled to life with a gentle tune.
Taking that back and saying that wasn't what he meant would only be a lie. Taking it back would only be hurtful. But... was it too soon? Was it not the right time to-
You ruined it. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot-
Hmm. Come here. He felt like he'd been grabbed and pulled out of a lake he didn't know he'd started drowning in, enough that there was no struggle when he was lifted. Even with supernatural strength, the king was so... so stupidly light.
His hands fell naturally into place despite his odd, numb feeling. The look he gave was momentarily fretful before he focused on the hem of that tattered red coat, his throat swallowing back the apology for springing that on the other man that fought its hardest to reach his tongue and shape the words.
But he fell into step and allowed himself to listen. In time that awful, scribbly fretting that was scrambling in his head, like so many aimless marks from a trembling hand that wanted to cover up as much as possible and as quickly as possible, just... quieted.
Lucifer couldn't look up again. This was... sweet. God, he really was soft, wasn't he?
"...I haven't... heard this one in a while," he noted quietly, his mouth so damned dry.
"You should leave my station open more often," Alastor teased softly, though there wasn't any tooth in it. Just a quiet fondness, as he gently led a dance that was quiet and calm.
Lucifer loves me.
The thought weighs heavily in his chest, but... it's not an unwelcome feeling. It's... warm. Grounding. It makes the way his mind always frets and betrays quiet, paranoia or violent impulses shushing like they'd laid down to sleep for a while.
Do I love Lucifer?
That's a harder question to answer. Can a creature like him feel love the way normal people do? Is this feeling now what it's supposed to feel like?
"You're far too sweet and patient with me," Alastor remarked. Or maybe the people in Alastor's past were too insistent on answers? Either way, it felt... safer, since Lucifer WAS so patient. Alastor could be slow to come to grips with understanding. "I fret I could scar that frail heart."
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
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He chuckled, softly.
"Though she'd never put up with any sass. She'd tweak the ears of men thrice her size for disrespecting her. I doubt you being the literal Devil would dissuade her."
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But talk of tweaking ears had him glad he sort of didn't have any. Still, the threat was very there and very real. He believed this lady would kick his ass. Smart men never doubted that.
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Because the Sinner's curse, right? Lilith must not have quite counted as a Sinner or had that curse, herself.
"If you pick a hellhound, I'll bite you for punishment~"
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But Lucifer momentarily looked confused with talk of surrogates. Adoption was also an option, but... had he the heart to inflict that sort of future on the child, the 'pity adoption', the 'charity case'? As his heart twisted, he made a note to make an anonymous donation later.
"Pfft- As if you need an excuse to bite me. But there's..."
Lucifer dismissed his glass. It freed his hands to fidget a bit. He was looking practically anywhere else, but kept his features neutral as he hitched his shoulders and decided to throw it all out there:
"...There's a third option. I did retain my power of... Creation. And I'm a shapeshifter."
God, why is he telling him this? This was nuts. It's weird. It's weird, isn't it, just- just volunteering things like this...
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"Hah! Did you defy Heaven's curse of barren Sinners to create dear Charlie? Hahahah! What a triumph of defiance!"
How could one not admire something as spiteful and powerful as that??
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His shoulders relaxed. "Hah! I can't take all the credit- Lily cooked up Charlie- Buuut, if she ever wanted more children, I dunno- I could have offered to take turns. How's that for dedication? ...I mean, not that it... matters anymore..."
He paused, shook his head. None of that. Lucifer snickered, hugging himself a bit. "Unholy Hell, you took that really well...!"
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"You can turn into a goose, a goat, a snake - taking a form to carry a child would simply be child's play. It is the Devil I'm consorting with - the Creator's Plan hardly matters."
Alastor just chuckled, moving and wrapping an arm around Lucifer's waist to pull him closer, so he was seated on the countertop right in front of him.
"I wager you could do the same to others. The old talk of your servants on Earth turning others to toads with hexes, and so on! If you can defy the Curse on Sinners, then changing the body is certainly no challenge. Hah. Listen to me puffing up your feathers even more!" he chuckled fondly, drumming his fingers on Lucifer's hips. "I accept. I'll give you a little fawn, perhaps a peryton, one way or another."
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The king gave a small, surprised little giggle with the grab and neatly slid into place before him. He braced his hands upon Alastor's shoulders and settled. He had the right of it- Lucifer's price was always rather high, but the reward was just so. True Luciferian practitioners were very few, and very far between. "Bingo! No Curse or Deal ever stood a chance with me."
But by all means, keep this up! With his touch upon his hips, the acceptance, and the promise... he felt his face heat and gave a lopsided grin.
"Oof, fuck- you uh... you sure you're not in that rut already? You haven't even chased me yet and you're talking in the vicinity of dirty right now."
no subject
And, yes, true enough - a little fawn to call his own sounded like a bit of fun. Madness, but a fun madness.
"Best hear the sweet words now, because they'll be few and far between when I properly lose my mind. Shall I fill your head with fun fantasies to dream about until then?"
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Lucifer whistled, impressed. "Ohoo~ Strong enough to leave the Radio Demon himself without words? That's concerning."
But a brow quirked, arms folded. Bring it on, Bambi. "Y'know what? Sure. I'm game."
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"Oh, your frustrations and woes will change - you'll gripe you're too spoiled and pampered. Carefully fed, gently massaged, a kingly treatment you'll never get otherwise~" he teased a bit, leaning a little close to nibble at Lucifer's wrist even as it was folded. "I'll give my darling doe everything he wants and needs~. Tender nibbles on the skin, none too deep! I have to leave you be, but what sweet torture the wait will be, watching you grow more and more ripe with each passing day. See you grow out with a fawn, in defiance of all Creation, something divine and powerful in a way that will make all realms tremble in awe."
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Spoiling and pampering was good. Massages... really? He hadn't gone to have a massage in years, and his shoulders already were reminding him of this. Alastor nibbled, made promises. Made it harder to think.
Being called a 'darling doe' made him scoff a bit, but the way his gaze scattered briefly from the deer's face gave away the abashed pleasure. It was fine, shut up, but actually don't, please-
But Alastor had well and truly won the game. Steam visibly rising from his head, the king was left with a good number of dream material and fantasy lingering in the wrinkles of his brain.
"..."
Thank the man, Lucifer.
"..."
Come on, now.
"Hffgghmgh."
That'll do.
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And he'll put a cherry on top by tugging Lucifer just a little closer, so that Alastor could press a fond little kiss on Lucifer's shirt, over the naval. Where he promised a fawn will be.
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His head fell back, and a plume of the same steam rose from his mouth. Or perhaps that was his soul, who knows...?
You're not fair.
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"Of course, if it's a heat this year, you'll be in charge of spoiling me instead," he teased fondly, nuzzling against the man's middle. "But it sounds like we're hoping it's a rut, hmm?"
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Lucifer took a steadying breath. H...heat...? Ooh, that's right. There was the chance of that, too.
"I told you, Bambi... I'm a switch, remember?" He wound his arms around the other demon's head and tipped to cheekily nip one of those ears.
"A switch and a curse-breaker, so I could very well mark you as mine in a whole new way..."
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"But if the fawns have wings like yours, Cher, you'll have to assure them that their cute little chicken wing phases are perfectly normal and not embarrassing at all."
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But Lucifer started, and tweaked those itty-bitty antennae antlers of his. "What I'll assure them is that they aren't chicken wings and their old man is being an asshole!"
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"Adorable! Precious little chicken wings. More skin for me to kiss gently~"
1/2
But since he had them right there, he swept his hands over the ears and let them spring back into place.
2/2
...
Ah.
Well.
Shit.
1/2
Alastor didn't answer, letting his hands rub up and down Lucifer's back instead. He couldn't answer for sure if he felt the same... he felt something. It was similar but decidedly different than how attached he'd felt to his mother. It was different than his fondness for Rosie or Mimzy, or the joy he felt in ruffling the feathers of someone like Angel or Husk. Or Charlie, sometimes.
Moments before in this very conversation, Alastor hadn't really felt averse to the idea of having a child with Lucifer. Was that love? That sort of... comfort, that Alastor wasn't used to feeling. He always figured there was certainty in knowing that if Lucifer truly wished, Alastor would just be obliterated - there's nothing Alastor could offer the King except company and madness. And Lucifer just said he loves him for that.
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Words failed Alastor, but Jazz never did.
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You ruined it. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot-
Hmm. Come here. He felt like he'd been grabbed and pulled out of a lake he didn't know he'd started drowning in, enough that there was no struggle when he was lifted. Even with supernatural strength, the king was so... so stupidly light.
His hands fell naturally into place despite his odd, numb feeling. The look he gave was momentarily fretful before he focused on the hem of that tattered red coat, his throat swallowing back the apology for springing that on the other man that fought its hardest to reach his tongue and shape the words.
But he fell into step and allowed himself to listen. In time that awful, scribbly fretting that was scrambling in his head, like so many aimless marks from a trembling hand that wanted to cover up as much as possible and as quickly as possible, just... quieted.
Lucifer couldn't look up again. This was... sweet. God, he really was soft, wasn't he?
"...I haven't... heard this one in a while," he noted quietly, his mouth so damned dry.
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Lucifer loves me.
The thought weighs heavily in his chest, but... it's not an unwelcome feeling. It's... warm. Grounding. It makes the way his mind always frets and betrays quiet, paranoia or violent impulses shushing like they'd laid down to sleep for a while.
Do I love Lucifer?
That's a harder question to answer. Can a creature like him feel love the way normal people do? Is this feeling now what it's supposed to feel like?
"You're far too sweet and patient with me," Alastor remarked. Or maybe the people in Alastor's past were too insistent on answers? Either way, it felt... safer, since Lucifer WAS so patient. Alastor could be slow to come to grips with understanding. "I fret I could scar that frail heart."
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