"Now, this man... he had a bit of panache, I'll admit. Bludgeoning with an axe, chopping victims like firewood - I could see the enjoyment in that! But see, this fella kept picking people in their homes at night. Wanted to leave his kills out in the open to be found. Wore the guise of a demon.
"Now... I enjoy a bit of theatrics. I never left my prey out, I never taunted the police. Convincing the city to all blast jazz together for a night? Beautiful! Striking.
"But coexisting was never an option. His taste in prey was offensive to me - when I read out the news that he'd split the skull of a pregnant woman, I set to hunt. The woman might've been blessed enough to survive and even give birth, but now, that just isn't sustainable hunting. You never hunt the does, you hunt the bucks, especially does with fawns."
There's a subtle little possessive squeeze around Lucifer's waist. His husband wasn't a frail doe, nor was he unarmed at any given moment even asleep, but every flicker of instinct told him to be protective anyway.
"But how does a mortal man find an invisible hunter? A demon, self-proclaimed, one that whined of the cold and missing his home in Tartarus? Lucky for me - that was all some tidy act he tried to embody. Instead I managed to find a man hurriedly fleeing a scene, a suspicious wrapped bundle, bloodied. Off into the woods he went! Hahah!"
He'd heard bits and pieces of his preferred methods for killing, and he never understood the ones that always wanted to make art pieces of the act. Sure, if they had the power to stand up to the authority figures that was just your average day, but he knew full well how fragile humans were, even as fascinating as they were.
But that, too, was a fascination: To be so fragile, yet so reckless...
Lucifer made a face with the description of that victim. He was aware of that particular hunting law- don't nab the does, don't go after the fawns- but it still had him gently clutching himself a bit.
Yet still he leaned, intrigued. "Hohoh... ♫ Into the woods without regret, the choice is made, the task is set~ ♫"
Just a wretched thing, wasn't it? Something to make one sick. The hunting law had its practicality - making sure the deer population survived human hunting - but to Alastor, the ban was so much more important than that.
You hunt the strongest, only those that would not be missed.
"I had to wonder, did he have a plan? Did he have himself a hideaway? Was he truly a demon? Or was this a fool underestimating the riverside? I let him get the lead because it was a wet night, and I needn't be right on his tail to keep track. His footprints sloshed deep in the mud and left smears of it on the rocks, over logs... he expected perhaps a footchase, some frantic flashlight from a cop investigating the scream. He must have wagered if he stayed far enough from the water's edge, there was no predator he ought to worry about.
"So naturally, I caught up. Peering from the dense trees that I knew so well - I'd already buried here, after all - and saw a scraggly man still shaking from his adrenaline high and looking around all paranoid, waiting to be pounced on by a vengeful townsfolk.
"Now, granted, I was just a man. No fancy magics working in my favor - my veves were only on a charm for myself tucked deep in my inner vest pocket, and that night I had only brought my spade, not sure if I'd get caught myself for being suspicious out and about at night. So I had a few choices... leave him out and about, taunt him for a game of cat and mouse, or drive him to his doom that very night by making him fear the bayou he was taking for granted."
"Into the woods, of course! With him SO strung-up, I knew I had to wear him down. A little bit of silent stalking more, and I found just what I needed - several fist-sized rocks. If you've got a strong arm and good aim, you can make quite a terrible cracking sound by hitting a tree. Sounds like a gunshot, even in a stuffy bog!
"As far as he knew, suddenly, someone was chasing him from the route he'd just come and he took off. I followed parallel to him, shadowing him from the trees - he had to use the path but I knew my stomping grounds enough to follow in the brush. This fool outed himself in that very moment to me - he wasn't even from Nawlins.
"And every time he turned a ways that might've led him towards a road? Why, suddenly there was a CRACK coming from that direction. And another, and another... this man ran himself deeper and deeper, even braving splashing through water to shake the scent. His only reprieve was when I couldn't be quiet, so I'd let him run ahead, think himself safe for a hair, before I started the paranoid cycle all over again."
"Isn't it the most embarrassing thing you've ever heard? Amateur. And the more frantic he got, the more he panicked! He stopped, brandished that axe, shouted - come out and face me like a man!!"
To that, even just remembering it, Alastor guffawed.
"Don't be SILLY. He still had that fight, that adrenaline. I let the bayou answer him with nothing but frogsong and settling water. By then, he was on that last pump of adrenaline... and then it was the waiting game. I watched from the shadows, waiting in silence, already catching my breath.
"And then his knees buckled. He hid himself away as best as he could in the crux of fallen trees, tangling himself in the roots. None the wiser as he fiddled with his boots to pour out the water, I swiped his axe and hacked off his leg below the knee! Hahahah!"
"HAHAHAH! Exactly! I hacked at his limbs as he screamed. Oh, how perfect his screams were, bloody and visceral and desperate. I chucked that leg into the water, see if it wouldn't flush out any good company. He asked who I was, what I wanted, at least as best as he could between pathetic sobs.
"I am the hunter in New Orleans, stranger. I hunt here. And I eat my kills, because I am not wasteful," he snickered, pantomiming twirling a fork and a bit of shadow making the shape of the implement. "I started to peel the best bites off of him while he watched. My teeth back then... hah. They were never built for it, not like my teeth now - I had to carefully slice the meat thin on the axe blade, savor it. Oh, I had such a lovely time waxing poetic - rarely do I keep a captive audience!! - but he was losing blood eventually, so it was time to let the sad little axeman go. 'Keep a seat warm for me in Hell, old pal, I'll come for seconds.'"
And with that, he waggled his fingers theatrically. "And then I died some years later! And I found him, and I ate him all over again!"
Mmm, the way he sounds when he makes a threat... call him screwed up in the head, but Lucifer wasn't about to deny what the fuck he liked.
He raised his hands to offer an appreciative, soggy golf clap. "I was about to ask if the fella was found down here, but you went ahead and tied off that little bow! Very nice."
He lifted himself a little to kiss his cheek. "Alright. I think I'm tidy, but it's your turn after that little bit of desanguinaaaaaa-"
He giggled with that new feeling, and shifted away to use a little magic to call over another little bottle. "Alright, alright, enough tickling! I'm giving you a scrub! I owe you a scalp massage."
"Oh really, now? A reward for a riveting story, then?" Alastor chuckled, going ahead and running his fingers through his inner ears so they didn't have to get soaped up. Didn't need an ear infection ruining his appreciation for his evening radio, after all.
"A mercy! I should have more super hot soaks more often, especially with the added weight on the hips and back-" He pressed a hand to the small of his back for a little crack.
"Still an adjustment period, but I'm ~crushing it~" So what if the kid was only the size of an avocado? That's the most he's ever had so far.
He made a flourish when he caught the bottle. "Alright! Ears back. Hell knows if some Goetia's dried-up little downy feathers got stuck in your hair somewhere..."
In Lucifer's defense, he was also gaining all the healthy weight - how many hundreds or thousands of years has it been since his old bones carried more than a bird's weight?
"You wear it perfectly, my King," Alastor hummed, tilting his head down and tilting his ears back to take in the shampooing. And, since he's already peeking, he gives that charming little bump an adoring caress.
He moved closer to get that going, mindful of the inside of his ears before working in that lather.
"You are a flatterer. ...I always feel so..." Yup, there it is. He flicked away a down feather and scoffed. Really, can't those dodos get their own molts under control, or is he the only responsible feathered one?
"Like one of those adorable little sea slugs that look like rabbits, or like dollops of paint?" Alastor teased, his voice was softening to match the flattering words.
"Now, now- don't say sweet little things you don't mean...!" But he was turning a bit of gold and the lathering was turning into a full-on massage of the backs of his ears.
"I'm always napping and sore... and my stomach feels like it's on a rollercoaster. You've practically had to carry me everywhere! Sluggy slug slug!"
"You're my sleepy little kitty cat! Using all your energy to grow a whole new life. You pretty, sleepy thing," Alastor hummed, relaxing and sinking forward into the massaging hands. He ignored the shampoo getting in his mouth, he was far too comfortable and already yapping. "I'll ease your soreness. Give you new foods to help your fussing stomach. I'll take care of the rest while you do the hard work."
"Pfftt- Oh, hush-" He snorted, and completely corpsed with the combination of being some sort of kitty cat and the way Alastor was getting real pudding-y.
"...Ohooo- is that the secret...? Ear scratches and scalp rubs, and you turn into a little kitty cat yourself?" Some deep massages at play, running long lines from the top down to the nape of the neck.
Is he? He's definitely relaxed from the touch. Though Alastor's sure it must just be because it's Lucifer.
Though, he did vaguely remember his mother gently brushing his tangled hair out of his face as he was falling asleep. Maybe it was a weakness he's had ever since then.
Either way, a tinny sound popped amidst the radio as the stock sound effect of a cat purr started playing from him - who needed a soundboard, right?
He couldn't help the smile. Alastor could fight it all he wanted, but he could be truly adorable without really trying. What range he had, this wonderful showman, to go from terrifying and bone-chilling to this purring, soapy feline...
Lucifer gently tipped his chin, and with the gesture of a hand, conjured a rush of water to wash away the suds. The water ran from the hairline, up and back over the shoulders and back.
"....Je t'aime, mon cher..." A kiss to the cheek. He used his thumbs to sweep away stray suds on the face.
"Mon tout..." The other cheek, lingering. He's sorry he's a pain in the ass sometimes... hormones don't help at all.
It wouldn't be any fun if his husband was some perfect little complacent spouse. Alastor basked and let himself be spoiled and doted on - once his darling husband sat on the bedsheets, Alastor knew all that dancing would have the fallen angel pass out for a cat nap in an instant. That's when he'll take his turn to gently massage worked back and leg muscles, making sure they didn't ache too badly later on.
Ah, but think of it - he had a moment now to make Lucifer laugh. Alastor took one of those hands on his cheek, pulling it away, then kissing it. And then kissing up it.
"'Tish. You spoke French," he teased, quoting one of the rare few good picturebox shows he enjoyed.
He took the hand and Lucifer offered a soft murmur beneath his breath. Too much water? Too hot?
...Ah...
His heart fluttered as the smile grew, and his arm was on offer for the kissing. With a quiet laugh he offered, "...Oui."
Lucifer had to wonder: Could he also summon Alastor somehow if he spoke a few words of French? He could think of a few spells or means to be summoned in that fashion, too. But for now, the king would let himself melt a little.
The man did spend all night dancing with him. After such an enchanting evening, he'd earned a little treat.
"It makes me wild," he teased, though his energy was more calm and sedate. Alastor felt dizzy and mad, but he'd attributed that to that strange feeling called 'love' long ago. "How about I carry you to bed, Lucifer, and nibble and lick my brie until he feels sluggish for a good reason instead~?"
"Why, you've done a perfect job corrupting me, o devil~" Alastor chuckled, leaning back to pull the plug and drain the tub. And taking Lucifer out of the bath, cradling his silly little brie-pear-slug, he snapped to use a bit of magic to instantly wick them dry and dress himself.
Not Lucifer, though! He was still going to get laid out on the bed as though it were a platter.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
no subject
"Now... I enjoy a bit of theatrics. I never left my prey out, I never taunted the police. Convincing the city to all blast jazz together for a night? Beautiful! Striking.
"But coexisting was never an option. His taste in prey was offensive to me - when I read out the news that he'd split the skull of a pregnant woman, I set to hunt. The woman might've been blessed enough to survive and even give birth, but now, that just isn't sustainable hunting. You never hunt the does, you hunt the bucks, especially does with fawns."
There's a subtle little possessive squeeze around Lucifer's waist. His husband wasn't a frail doe, nor was he unarmed at any given moment even asleep, but every flicker of instinct told him to be protective anyway.
"But how does a mortal man find an invisible hunter? A demon, self-proclaimed, one that whined of the cold and missing his home in Tartarus? Lucky for me - that was all some tidy act he tried to embody. Instead I managed to find a man hurriedly fleeing a scene, a suspicious wrapped bundle, bloodied. Off into the woods he went! Hahah!"
no subject
But that, too, was a fascination: To be so fragile, yet so reckless...
Lucifer made a face with the description of that victim. He was aware of that particular hunting law- don't nab the does, don't go after the fawns- but it still had him gently clutching himself a bit.
Yet still he leaned, intrigued. "Hohoh... ♫ Into the woods without regret, the choice is made, the task is set~ ♫"
no subject
You hunt the strongest, only those that would not be missed.
"I had to wonder, did he have a plan? Did he have himself a hideaway? Was he truly a demon? Or was this a fool underestimating the riverside? I let him get the lead because it was a wet night, and I needn't be right on his tail to keep track. His footprints sloshed deep in the mud and left smears of it on the rocks, over logs... he expected perhaps a footchase, some frantic flashlight from a cop investigating the scream. He must have wagered if he stayed far enough from the water's edge, there was no predator he ought to worry about.
"So naturally, I caught up. Peering from the dense trees that I knew so well - I'd already buried here, after all - and saw a scraggly man still shaking from his adrenaline high and looking around all paranoid, waiting to be pounced on by a vengeful townsfolk.
"Now, granted, I was just a man. No fancy magics working in my favor - my veves were only on a charm for myself tucked deep in my inner vest pocket, and that night I had only brought my spade, not sure if I'd get caught myself for being suspicious out and about at night. So I had a few choices... leave him out and about, taunt him for a game of cat and mouse, or drive him to his doom that very night by making him fear the bayou he was taking for granted."
no subject
Damn shame.
"What'd you pick? Those are all good options."
no subject
"As far as he knew, suddenly, someone was chasing him from the route he'd just come and he took off. I followed parallel to him, shadowing him from the trees - he had to use the path but I knew my stomping grounds enough to follow in the brush. This fool outed himself in that very moment to me - he wasn't even from Nawlins.
"And every time he turned a ways that might've led him towards a road? Why, suddenly there was a CRACK coming from that direction. And another, and another... this man ran himself deeper and deeper, even braving splashing through water to shake the scent. His only reprieve was when I couldn't be quiet, so I'd let him run ahead, think himself safe for a hair, before I started the paranoid cycle all over again."
no subject
"You brute! Chef's kiss. But splashing around in the water? Really? Definitely from out of town."
no subject
To that, even just remembering it, Alastor guffawed.
"Don't be SILLY. He still had that fight, that adrenaline. I let the bayou answer him with nothing but frogsong and settling water. By then, he was on that last pump of adrenaline... and then it was the waiting game. I watched from the shadows, waiting in silence, already catching my breath.
"And then his knees buckled. He hid himself away as best as he could in the crux of fallen trees, tangling himself in the roots. None the wiser as he fiddled with his boots to pour out the water, I swiped his axe and hacked off his leg below the knee! Hahahah!"
no subject
"Whoops! You faced him like a man and now the fella didn't have a leg to stand on!"
no subject
"I am the hunter in New Orleans, stranger. I hunt here. And I eat my kills, because I am not wasteful," he snickered, pantomiming twirling a fork and a bit of shadow making the shape of the implement. "I started to peel the best bites off of him while he watched. My teeth back then... hah. They were never built for it, not like my teeth now - I had to carefully slice the meat thin on the axe blade, savor it. Oh, I had such a lovely time waxing poetic - rarely do I keep a captive audience!! - but he was losing blood eventually, so it was time to let the sad little axeman go. 'Keep a seat warm for me in Hell, old pal, I'll come for seconds.'"
And with that, he waggled his fingers theatrically. "And then I died some years later! And I found him, and I ate him all over again!"
no subject
He raised his hands to offer an appreciative, soggy golf clap. "I was about to ask if the fella was found down here, but you went ahead and tied off that little bow! Very nice."
He lifted himself a little to kiss his cheek. "Alright. I think I'm tidy, but it's your turn after that little bit of desanguinaaaaaa-"
He giggled with that new feeling, and shifted away to use a little magic to call over another little bottle. "Alright, alright, enough tickling! I'm giving you a scrub! I owe you a scalp massage."
no subject
"Your legs a bit less jello after a soak, hmm?"
no subject
"Still an adjustment period, but I'm ~crushing it~" So what if the kid was only the size of an avocado? That's the most he's ever had so far.
He made a flourish when he caught the bottle. "Alright! Ears back. Hell knows if some Goetia's dried-up little downy feathers got stuck in your hair somewhere..."
no subject
"You wear it perfectly, my King," Alastor hummed, tilting his head down and tilting his ears back to take in the shampooing. And, since he's already peeking, he gives that charming little bump an adoring caress.
no subject
"You are a flatterer. ...I always feel so..." Yup, there it is. He flicked away a down feather and scoffed. Really, can't those dodos get their own molts under control, or is he the only responsible feathered one?
"...Like a slug..."
no subject
no subject
"I'm always napping and sore... and my stomach feels like it's on a rollercoaster. You've practically had to carry me everywhere! Sluggy slug slug!"
no subject
no subject
"...Ohooo- is that the secret...? Ear scratches and scalp rubs, and you turn into a little kitty cat yourself?" Some deep massages at play, running long lines from the top down to the nape of the neck.
no subject
Though, he did vaguely remember his mother gently brushing his tangled hair out of his face as he was falling asleep. Maybe it was a weakness he's had ever since then.
Either way, a tinny sound popped amidst the radio as the stock sound effect of a cat purr started playing from him - who needed a soundboard, right?
no subject
Lucifer gently tipped his chin, and with the gesture of a hand, conjured a rush of water to wash away the suds. The water ran from the hairline, up and back over the shoulders and back.
"....Je t'aime, mon cher..." A kiss to the cheek. He used his thumbs to sweep away stray suds on the face.
"Mon tout..." The other cheek, lingering. He's sorry he's a pain in the ass sometimes... hormones don't help at all.
no subject
Ah, but think of it - he had a moment now to make Lucifer laugh. Alastor took one of those hands on his cheek, pulling it away, then kissing it. And then kissing up it.
"'Tish. You spoke French," he teased, quoting one of the rare few good picturebox shows he enjoyed.
no subject
...Ah...
His heart fluttered as the smile grew, and his arm was on offer for the kissing. With a quiet laugh he offered, "...Oui."
Lucifer had to wonder: Could he also summon Alastor somehow if he spoke a few words of French? He could think of a few spells or means to be summoned in that fashion, too. But for now, the king would let himself melt a little.
The man did spend all night dancing with him. After such an enchanting evening, he'd earned a little treat.
"It does things to you, does it...?"
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Lucifer stood straighter, the blush quick to rise with his offer. He was cute, but he was also intense... and he loved it.
"Hmhm~ you've picked up temptation real fast, haven't you...?"
no subject
Not Lucifer, though! He was still going to get laid out on the bed as though it were a platter.
"Now you reap the rewards~"