Tell me your desires...

@lordxfhell liked for a starter

“Lucifer!” There it was, an excited battle cry from the young human as she ran forward, flinging her arms out and tackle hugging the tall suited figure. She clung onto him, an excited faced turned up to look at him, dark eyes painted with an innocence and joy.  The cheap red frilly dress was paired with red dolly shoes, painted red leather complete with cross bar and adorable little bow on the side, those childish white frilly socks…and a pair of little Devil horns on her head.

There she was, Devil Princess! Trixie had her heart set on the costume now for a week. “I’m going to Noahs party!” She proclaimed excitedly, as if she was unveiling the second coming to him. “I’m a Devil Princess!”

Because, you could be badass cute – why limit yourself.

     Lucifer isn’t prepared for sticky hands on his pressed Prada. He never is. He thinks of all the possible escape routes and excuses to remove the little girl clutched at his legs and he’s failing. There are no ninja-barbie dolls to throw or chocolate cake within distance to distract and it’s quickly becoming a reality operation ‘Remove the Detective’s Spawn’ is a loss. For all the years on Earth he’s traversed, children had not been a problem, He avoided them better than a demon immune to plague, yet recently, within introduction of his crime fighting position within the L.A.P.D. it all changed.

     So here he was--stranded and defeated--and oh how he wanted her off! Lucifer bites back a groan. Already there is an ache starting to swell in his head. He does his absolute best to not touch her in the removal process and is having a troubling time with all the red and frill until she proclaims her newest visage and gives him a break.

                     "Is that right?” he says, noticing the horns and it clicks--horrifyingly so. He hated his misrepresentation. It is not her fault, he knows it, but part of him feels disappointed that she would get it wrong and the real thing has been around her for so long.

     His words certainly bring a brow to rise, hand retreating from her pocket back to examining where the wound is - or, WAS now. It’s highly surprising to say the last - Ella knows she wasn’t seeing things, he had been shot a few minutes ago, but now ? Didn’t even look like he had been hit, skin as clear as glass. A retreating step is taken, mind attempting to wrap around what would be a logical explanation rather than the ludicrous. 

                  “ - you WERE shot, & now you’re fine ? …no one heal’s that fast, this isin’t an X-Men movie. You don’t even have anything that would keep you from being shot in the ARM, or blood packs - you got a lot of explaining to do here, lucifer. ”

     So much ran through his mind, a windmill powered by the incredulous behavior of humans and their inability to connect the truth to the possible when it’s before them. How flippant they are to parade symbols of his father as if they are the very spoils of war gained from sacrifice, of money and time, of unshakable faith that HE will grant them his kingdom when the time comes and save them from his cast evil son. Yet when the very creature whom humans loathe and beseech God for their sins is among them, he is treated nothing more than an actor--charlatan--completely ignored and branded a fool for there is not and never will be any sympathy for the Devil...

     It’s in this moment of thought Lucifer’s eyes follow the glimmer of the woman’s necklace and drops his smile nearly snide.

     It was like watching a child try to stuff a star shaped peg into a toy box meant only for circles. The effort was there: gallant, robust vigor, with plenty of sincerity crammed harshly in hope it would somehow fit against reality. Unfortunately, reality cements no matter what clever trick could be worked or thought, it undeniably wouldn’t fit. And this odd girl didn’t seem to get the picture. No doubt it is hilariously entertaining, however now it’s pathetic and Lucifer was not about to allow himself to ride in one of those noisy siren vehicles which reeked of alcohol in all the wrong ways; once was enough of that social experiment.

                   “I don’t need it, I’ve already healed.” said Lucifer throwing her makeshift gauze elsewhere “Your mortal weapons are about as annoying as they come and so far the most annoying thing thus far I’ve experienced is one of those ambulances.”

      He didn’t know what to think of her confession–those words–they are resoundingly sweet yet perhaps they are just words she said to keep him around. It never worked on him. Not on the brunette doll he picked up at the store near the meat aisle or the spiky haired boy who came out to him at Lux months ago. They always asked him to stay, beg for more, cry a little and maybe get far enough to threaten if he was still present, but it never swayed him. Lucifer wasn’t one to please anyone beyond himself for no one else matters but himself.  He wants to believe her. In the name of his father he does! Something inside of him, a little voice ringing expiration happens in the blink of an eye and he swears it could be Maze nagging incessantly of who he is…. He knows better though, that it’s a reminder of immortality and how fragile everything on this Earth is–that if he were to blindly smile and agree it could possibly be alright and everything will be ok.

     Slowly Lucifer sets his glass down on the bar and smiles to Marlowe.

                 “Of course it does.” Lucifer said in such a way wind carries leaves as if it were nothing. And it was. It meant nothing at all for him to say it. In fact, he said it almost too often. From patrons to anyone on the streets, hot moms and cool dads, no one could allude his devilish charm.

     So how was it that he paused thoughtfully after mere utterance allowing what could not be comprehended or seen brew.

     Lucifer grimaced something sour, tapped his fingers respectively against their mirrored digits and spoke truthfully as he always has:

                     “Consequently against my better judgement, I could say the same to you.”

     Lucifer was already three strides towards the exit of the Elven Lord’s halls when he spun on his heels in response to dagger like words tossed. He never truly got around to listening to everything, not when distraction was near, and how could he now at their dismissal? There was a sense of urgency in his motives, a design most devious which required the devil’s attention and evidently was not important after all. Next time he’ll be sure to ask the harp playing tart for her name; At the moment, he had to soothe biting icy hues who perfectly paired well to their equally frigid owner. Still, Lucifer kept his welcoming smile, clapped his hands like a percussion to dissipate bad vibes and decided he would humor the regal man.