Scungilli

The dust of the universe collects at his fingertips, intermingling with the gasses of the cosmos to create a cold, dense cloud in his hands. He slowly brings his hands together, collapsing the formed cloud into a rapidly spinning disc of pure light. Intense heat pulls from the center of the protostar, the temperature rapidly rising until his hands meet a final time. In his hands, an explosion of light and heat makes way for a brand new star.

Samuel smiles upon his creation, cradling the star in his palm. So beautiful, so bright and destined to sparkle in the lord’s universe for millions of years. The angel carefully releases it, already beaming with pride. He would return to his brethren excitedly, letting them decide who gets to name the newest star in the galaxy.

When Samuel returns to his home in heaven, he is not alone. The Speaker waits for him, a gentle smile on her glowing face. Samuel rushes over to her, taking one of her outstretched hands in his. “Well done, my child.” She compliments, squeezing his hand in hers.

“You are creating the most beautiful sky for God’s newest creation.” The Speaker praises, referring to the lush green garden being carefully crafted on earth. The garden was to be filled with flowers, fruit, animals and insects. Samuel had helped create some of the new additions to the garden but his pride laid in the stars he created that would guide their way during the darkness of night. The angel couldn’t wait to watch while his ducks slept away, tucked in the riverbanks, the deer huddled together in the thickets and the snakes curled in their burrows.

Samuel looks up at the Speaker and she reaches up to cup his cheeks. She pulls him forward, touching their foreheads together and filling him with nothing but warmth. “Oh, my little light bringer.”

Samuel basks in the warmth and affection, the intangible feeling of togetherness, belonging and this new concept of ‘family’ seeps into his heart and makes it full. He cannot imagine an existence without this and he knows in the depth of soul that he’d do anything to keep a hold of what he loves most.

--

Lucifer groans as the cables burrow deeper into his skin, the electrical currents burning into his tissue. His eyesight has started to go blurry, the panels and twisting cables stored in whatever room he was trapped in turned to nothing but blotted streaks of color.

Vaggi had left some time ago, promising to return with help. Time has already become as muddled as his memories, he could have seen the other fallen angel minutes or years ago, at this point it was impossible to tell.

Another powerful surge from the machine pulled at his grace, he screams this time, the cables pushing even deeper as if to bleed him dry. His hands and feet burned with the sensation of electricity rushing through his veins. Distantly, he kicks himself in admonishment.

How did he slip up so fatally? Why was the desperation for the last dregs of a fragile relationship enough to blind him to the obvious trap he stepped right into?

Lucifer knew why. Because no matter how much he fucked up, he would claw and scrape and maim to keep his daughter close. Even if she hated him, even if she rejected their name and sneered at his very being, he would do anything to at least keep her here.

Sweat trails down his face, his blonde hair matting to his forehead. Lucifer struggles to draw breath and every minute movement feels like agony. The king wrenches his eyes shut, hissing in pain from the uncomfortable position he’s been forced into.

His mind betrays him, fragmenting his thoughts like a broken mirror. He looks into each shard and sees glimpses of his past.

Grass beneath his hooves and a blue sky above him. His halo glitters in the morning sun and reflects off the water. A voice calls out to him, inviting him to join her in the spring. Spears break through his flesh, searing him from the inside out. Golden ichor spills over his already bruised eye. He stares at the shattered halo in his palms, the remnants dull and lifeless as the togetherness he’s become accustomed to is brought to an end. Warm hands reach down to cradle his face, tilting his bruised face upward to make eye contact with the Speaker. Shimmering tears pour down her cheeks. “Samuel, my most beloved.” She whispers brokenly. “I have to let you go. This is goodbye…indefinitely.” The Speaker’s words are choked with emotion and finality. She leans forward, kissing his forehead and brushing sweaty hair away from his forehead. The ground splits in two to swallow him whole, the rest of the heavenly host watching in disdain as he is chained into a dark pit. The crater created by his fall quickly filling in with damned souls meant to punish him in turn for his misdeed. A small child cradled in his hands, beautiful, bright and just as inspiring as the stars he used to create. She babbles at him, reaching out a small hand to grip onto his shirt. Lucifer holds her against his chest, leaning back in the bed. He is tired and in pain but nothing could dull the spark of hope in his heart. Charlotte, a free soul. A soul free from his chains. The golden wedding band falls on the floor, the sound echoing in the dark, empty hallway of the palace. The door shuts in his face, a mumbled confession that it was finally over making his world fall apart. Smooth jazz playing over the radio, his hands being firmly held as he’s led through a dance. A smiling mouth presses against his temple and teases him about their height difference. He turns his head to capture those lips with his own. The vitriol in the eyes of his daughter, the rage spilling from her lips as she sends him away. The confusion and hurt twisting his heart when he’s told of a plan, a plan that involves the one he loves surrendering himself to the enemy. He couldn’t talk him out of it, no matter what he tried and all he wanted was to know why.

Lucifer cries out, trembling in agony. Even so, he fights against his restraints, pulling from what little power he has left. His wings burst from from back, but it’s the wrong move. The wingspan shoves against the unyielding glass, bending the appendages uncomfortably until they reach the point of pain. Aureate blood drips from the broken points of his wings, the hollow bones snapping under the pressure.

Lucifer growls in frustration, his demonic features releasing from their hidden spaces. The sound of voices, muffled and faint but undeniably there, pulls his attention away from his attempts at escape.

There is yelling outside, an argument between more than two people. Lucifer quiets his labored breathing best he could to make out words. While he has no such luck, he does recognize Charlie’s voice among the others. Vaggi too and…Alastor?

Has Charlie found Alastor? Is he still being held hostage by the maniac that also trapped him here?

Lucifer pulls on his restraints, screaming out his anguish with every tug. Above him, the voices grew in volume before the most powerful surge shot through Lucifer’s body. The machine drained and drained and drained.

Lucifer’s torture only amplified, his body shaking with the force of the machine. It felt as if every ounce of his grace was forcefully tore from his being, the cords digging in even deeper and leaving burning, sparking trails in their wake.

The voices only grew louder. Lucifer swallows thickly when he notices the strange room around him begin to collapse. The panels began to short circuit, the malfunction machine sending more intense shock waves through Lucifer’s veins until it reached a crescendo.

A final blast shattered the glass he was trapped in, raining sharp shards over his head. Lucifer used the last bit of his strength to wrench his arms and legs free from the restraints. Lucifer fell into a heap, uncaring of the glass digging into his skin.

Outside, Lucifer could hear cheering. Something must have happened, but being stuck in the dark left him confused as to what.

Slowly, Lucifer pulled himself together enough to crawl out of the the chamber he had been in. The once muffled voices quickly raised in volume. Around him, everyone was celebrating, hugging each other and laughing in triumph.

“Dad?” Charlie’s voice grabbed his attention. She was more confused than anything.

“Heh! Don’t go down there!” Lucifer warned with a manic laugh. “That’s a place of pain!” He fell face first on the ground, groaning in pain as his body finally gave out. Charlie had just bent down when a loud voice started speaking over every loudspeaker in the Pentagram.

Charlie stood up quickly, screeching out in excitement as her friend, the redeemed one, showed up on the video feed with a message. Lucifer couldn’t quite understand all of it, his mind still fried from being used as a living battery.

Lucifer was left alone, curled up on the floor while conversations and celebrations continued around him. All he wanted was to escape, back to hotel-or the palace if Charlie was still so cross with him.

The king could hear the gentle clicking of hooves approaching him, enough to make him open one of his eyes. A large red hoof stood right by his prone form, the figure clearly belonging to Alastor.

Lucifer turns enough to take in Alastor. The Radio Demon was holding onto his side, blood soaking his coat and dripping onto the floor in dime sized drops. The sleeve of his left arm was completely torn and the skin beneath it was singed and scratched.

Alastor’s typically neat bob was a downright mess on his head, his ears down turned and the smile strained. The demon slowly sunk down to his knees beside Lucifer’s body, his own form shaking in barely concealed agony.

Lucifer groaned and slowly raised up on his elbows. His stomached twists and threatens to spill its contents but he remains composed enough to face Alastor. “Al,” He chokes, quiet so as to not be overheard. “Are you okay?”

Alastor huffs a humorless laugh. “You look shittier than I do.”

“Fuck off, Bambi.” Lucifer smiles despite his words, wanting to grab the demon and hold him to his chest. But in public, there was no way.

“We are leaving.” Alastor suddenly proclaims, as if reading his mind. Lucifer blinked, one eye at a time. In the next blink, he is covered in shadows, the cool sensation somewhat soothing on his burned skin.

They materialize in Alastor’s room, just outside of the bayou. Lucifer stumbles on his feet before Alastor wraps his arms around his waist. The king leans into the touch, pressing his face against Alastor’s blood soaked jacket. He disregards the acrid scent and instead grounds himself in the enticing warmth coming from the taller man.

“Cher,” Alastor begins, holding Lucifer gently. “We need to dress the wounds.” He correctly states, but Lucifer is in no mood to move.

“It’ll heal.” Lucifer grumbles, digging his fingers into Alastor’s jacket.

“Although that’s true, we need to help it along. Besides, you’re not getting blood in my bed again.” The demon presses his lips against Lucifer’s sweat soaked hair. “I prefer when it is there due to pleasure.”

Lucifer can’t help but breathe a laugh, wincing as the jerking made his wounds sting in pain. The entry wounds were agonizing and the pain in his muscles made him downright miserable. But the worst of it was how fatigued he felt. It felt as if his very life force was forcibly drained from his body. His mind was fogged, his vision still not completely clear and his eyelids were lead weights.

Lucifer may have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, he was already sitting on the edge of Alastor’s claw foot tub. The demon was peeling off his coat and vest, leaving the ruined clothes on the floor in a heap. Lucifer grimaced as his shirt was peeled away from his chest.

Alastor made quick work of removing both of their clothes. When his dark red shirt hit the floor, Lucifer reached a hand up to carefully touch his stomach. Another wound had been torn into his side, the skin there steadily dripping blood. “What happened while I was down there?” Lucifer asked, feeling the undeniable touch of angelic grace in the wound.

But not just from any angel. The grace was his own.

“I will explain everything later. For now, I am frankly exhausted.” Alastor replies with a weary sigh. Lucifer agrees and moves over so they can sit side by side.

Alastor soaks a soft cloth in warm water before using it to carefully clean around Lucifer’s symmetrical wounds. Truthfully Lucifer wanted a long bath but knew it would be a terrible idea for either of them to be submerged in water. This would do for now, he mused.

Alastor needed his side healed and Lucifer wasn’t sure if he was able to conjure up enough power to do so. But he at least needs to pull the angelic grace from the wound so Alastor can begin healing on his own, or Lucifer recovers.

Lucifer rests a hand over Alastor’s gash, careful not to apply too much pressure when he pulls what little power he has left from deep within himself. Alastor’s hand on the side of his neck is a comforting weight, supporting him while he pushes through the pain and fatigue.

Strands of golden light are pulled from the tender flesh as Lucifer works. The king pants from the strain, his eyes drooping and his body slumping into Alastor’s equally weary hold. That done, Alastor summons a needle with a glowing verdant thread.

At Lucifer’s prompting, the demon passes over the thread and lets him stitch the skin closed. It’s a slow, miserable process but one that is absolutely necessary until they are well enough to recover. Once its over, they take a moment to lean against each other, breathing heavily from the pain, the previous fear, and the utter exhaustion.

Lucifer presses his snoot into Alastor’s shoulder, nuzzling into the slightly thicker hair there. There was so much they needed to talk about. Alastor’s captivity, Whatever had happened with heaven, Lucifer’s ousting from the hotel…oh wait.

“I can’t stay here.” Lucifer whispers, reaching up to hold Alastor’s arm anyway.

“Why?” The Radio Demon asks, his voice slurred as if he was about to fall asleep sitting up.

“Charlie kicked me out.” Lucifer responds with a warbling voice, a different type of pain spearing into his heart as the memories of her words resurface to burn anew.

“I beg your pardon?” Alastor’s reply was quick, almost too loud in the quiet bubble they had made for themselves. “What foolishness is this?”

“M’sorry.” Lucifer mumbles into Alastor’s shoulder.

“That’s nonsense. I am the host of this hotel and you are not leaving. Besides, I am much too tired to take us elsewhere.” Alastor spits out, heaving himself onto his hooves and taking the king with him. “And before you say it, you’re not leaving either. I want you right here.”

Lucifer huffs a quiet laugh, his heart squeezing in his chest. It’s been so long since someone wanted him to stay, wanted him to be around. He had been kicked out, once again feeling a part of his soul being ripped away as his family, his daughter, cast him out.

But here Alastor was, making him stay.

In fact, the demon seems to read his mind and foregoes pajamas, instead pulling the king into bed with him. They seek each other out beneath the duvet, their bodies pressed tightly together. Skin to skin, as close as possible in the current situation. Lucifer chokes a dry sob, too drained for much more.

Alastor tangles their legs together and pulls Lucifer into a deep kiss. He melts into the kiss, breathing in the scent of his beloved and finding peace in the connection. The kiss wasn’t hunger nor desire. It was a welcome home. It was a plea to always be there. A promise to stay.

Before the kiss could deepen any further, Alastor arranges them on their sides and tucks his head beneath Lucifer’s chin. The king buries his face between the fluffy, pinned ears and breathes in the scent of the woods.

Here, in this space with this demon. Lucifer finds that the belonging he had been so desperate for was right here. This closeness was all he had ever wanted but nothing he believed he deserved.

Mindless kisses were pressed into Lucifer’s collarbone, another reminder that he not only belonged, but was cherished. Even if the source was something he would have never been able to predict only a few short months ago.

Lucifer opens his mouth to say something, anything to express the deep feeling of love deep in his chest. But he comes up short, instead pressing a kiss to Alastor’s head. “Thank you.”

Lucifer leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping idly at his coffee. His body instinctively swayed to the music that crackled from the radio. Distantly he could hear the sound of the grandfather clock striking the ungodly hour in the other room.

Logically, he knew why Alastor always left so late into the night. Selfishly, he preferred him to stay and keep him warm in their bed. He sighed and padded out of the kitchen and stepped out onto the porch. The muggy air was filled with the sound of cicadas and the distant call of nocturnal predators seeking their next meal.

The thought made him closely examine the treeline for any signs of Alastor. Lighting bugs danced in the tall grass of the bayou, creating a sparkling light show that was nearly mesmerizing. Lucifer sat down in one of the twin rocking chairs and threw one leg over the other. Truthfully, he knew it was best to just go back to sleep, but since Alastor, falling asleep in an empty bed was never as easy as it was before.

A chill ran down his spine when something in the atmosphere shifted just so. There was a sensation that sat heavy in his chest, the undefinable instinct all creatures had that prevented them from danger. Lucifer was never one to heed that internal voice that told him to turn tail and run. Even more so than a being of instinct, Lucifer was a man of pride.

Lucifer reentered his house and began rifling through the junk drawer in his foyer. It took a few moments of digging through old phone chargers, take out menus and rubber bands until he found the small flashlight he liked to keep on hand.

Just as he was about to exit again, he glanced into the decorative mirror beside the door and fixed a few wayward strands of hair.

The beam of his flashlight roved across the thick foliage that surrounded his home. A plant shook as a some small animal was startled into retreating further into the darkness. Lucifer descending the creaky wooden steps and walked off in the direction of the tree line.

Lucifer wandered through the garden they lay just beyond the home. The space was packed full with vibrant flowers, twisting vines and an abundance of growing vegetables. Alastor always liked to tease that it was their personal Garden of Eden. Lucifer breathed in the creamy scent of the magnolias and continued on.

Lucifer’s heart thumped rapidly against his chest when he finally heard a faint humming deeper in the garden. He distantly recognized the song, it was only the night before he was resting his head on Alastor’s chest as they slow danced in their living room to the very tune.

As the humming raised in volume, Lucifer stepped quicker through the garden path. He slowed to a stop when he finally found the source of the song.

Alastor was on his knees with a sapling in his hands, he set it in the small hole he had dug and compacted the dirt around it. Dozens of newly planted shrubs and trees covered most of surrounding area, the dirt still freshly dug. Alastor’s axe laid in the dirt, having just been used; the blade still soiled.

Alastor turned to him with a wide, proud smile on his face. His glasses sat askew on his nose and his typically prim attire was rumbled and wrinkled. His face and hair was damp with not only his sweat, but a thick layer of bright red blood. The acrid scent wafted off of him as he stood and faced the shorter man.

Lucifer slowly approached, keeping his gaze locked on Alastor’s chocolate brown eyes. A wild, electric expression rested over Alastor’s features and ignited Lucifer’s blood. A thin trail of blood slid from the chocolate curls atop Alastor’s head and slipped past his lips and down his chin. Alastor licked his lips with a grin and held a hand toward his companion.

“Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?” Lucifer asked coyly as he was reeled in by those callused hands.

Alastor guided him into a kiss that spoke of desperate hunger. Lucifer moaned at the coppery taste that laced his tongue and eager ministrations of his lover. Alastor pulled away with a nip to his bottom lip and smiled just as mischievously. “An apple tree, just for you, petite pomme.”

Lucifer chuckled and pushed a blood soaked lock of hair away from Alastor’s face. “Apples? Are you trying to tempt me?”

“Oh but you’re the real temptation, you little devil.” Alastor replied before bringing Lucifer back into the kiss.

Lucifer leaned back in his armchair, clear signs of anxiety making his face crumple in on itself. Charlie wondered if he knew that one of his sclera had gone a deep red. She reached over to rest a hand on the one tearing the fabric on the arm of the chair.

“Don’t worry dad,” She comforted, a bright smile lighting up her face. “It’s going to go great, I just know it!” Charlie’s heart soared at the immediate effect of her words. Her father inhaled a deep breath and returned her smile with one that bordered on shy.

“Thanks sweetie. Are you sure it’s not a problem?” Lucifer asked for the nth time.

“pft. Don’t you worry about a thing! I’m a pro at this.” She replied playfully. Charlie could feel Vaggie’s tension next to her. Her girlfriend was more wary about the idea but Charlie knew that they could do it, especially if they worked together.

Lucifer finally stood from his chair and kissed her forehead lovingly. “Good luck, Char. I know you can do it. I’ll be ready.” Charlie preened under the encouragement, distantly relieved at the easy affection that resulted from years of rebuilding and effort.

“You can count on me!”

--

The first step was convincing him to leave the hotel in the first place, which already proved to be a feat. Alastor drummed his fingers over his microphone and looked at Charlie as if she had grown two heads overnight. “Wouldn’t you agree that I am better served here while you’re away?”

Damn his logic. Charlie straightened her posture and rested her fists on her hips. “It’s only for the afternoon, I really need your help on my….research.” She really should have thought of a more believable excuse before approaching Alastor.

The Radio Demon quirked an eyebrow and stared at her for a moment. She could practically feel his gaze as he read into her expression. Dammit, two minutes in and he was already suspicious. Curse his natural paranoia.

“Please?” Charlie finally said, employing her best puppy dog eyes. Those typically didn’t work on Alastor they way they worked on Lucifer. But the closer he became to them as a family, the more his walls has softened. So long as no one pointed out that fact, she would use it to her advantage.

Surprisingly, Alastor hummed and eventually caved. Which was a relief because she was beginning to worry Vaggie would attempt to drag him out. “Well, consider me intrigued in your suspicious activities. Lead the way, my dear.”

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief that was all too conspicuous but as long as Alastor was intrigued, he’d be distracted. Which was the whole point of this affair.

They left the hotel with no further incident. Alastor walked behind her with a song playing over his radio waves. He hummed along as they walked closer to the city. She was happy to see his shadow was with them too, chirping along as it hid inside her own shadow. The presence of the creature told her it wasn’t left to spy.

Charlie yelped when Alastor was suddenly at her side. “Where are you leading us, princesse? I must say this is out of the norm.”

Charlie’s mind raced as she thought of an excuse. The more Alastor’s gaze bore into her the more she began to panic. think think think

“Lu Lu World!” She blurted without further thought.

If Charlie was half as good at reading Alastor’s expressions as she thought she was, she could tell he was thoroughly unimpressed. “Charlie-” He drawled. She could tell he had a lot more to say but since he and Lucifer had confessed to their relationship, she could tell he tried harder to connect with her. Alastor cleared his throat. “Alright. But how about a short cut?” He suggested before they were enveloped in the shadows.

--

Charlie was an odd duck, Alastor knew that from the start. However, this was odd even for her. The princess was pointing out all of the hidden details in every nook and cranny of the park her father built. Alastor tuned her out a little bit ago, having already received a similar tour from the man himself.

Alastor recalled that day. Lucifer had brought them here after hours so they were alone. They walked the park hand in hand and spoke about nothing and everything. He could never admit it, but it was one of the finer times they’d spent together.

He tuned back in when Charlie hesitantly grabbed his wrist. “This way!” She directed, giving him a smile that mirrored Lucifer’s. He allowed her to lead him where she pleased. It was clear she had ulterior motives for this whole trip but she happened to catch him in an amendable mood.

It would take all the tortures of hell to make Alastor admit it, but the day turned out to be one he enjoyed. Charlie happily showed him everything she could, recalling stories from her youth when Lucifer built the park to her wishes. Similarly, he watched as Vaggie listened with a dopey smile on her face. A smile that spoke volumes about the way she felt about the princess.

It was a smile he knew he had worn many times before, hidden in the bayou with the King of Sin in his arms. When did he become this? So weak to the affection of the Morning Star?

“What are you thinking about?” Vaggie asked quietly beside him, knocking him from his reverie. He looked sharply to his left. The angel looked up at him with a knowing smirk.

Alastor clicked his tongue and looked away from her, feeling thoroughly caught.

--

It had taken quite the miracle on Charlie’s part but with enough convincing she was able to drag Alastor onto a few rides. She didn’t care what he said, she knew he had enjoyed a least a couple of them.

She continued to check her phone, waiting for the go ahead from Lucifer. She chewed on her lip at the absence. Charlie was good at distracting but her talents only went so far when Alastor was involved. On cue, the Radio Demon cut into her thoughts.

“Well, as entertaining as this was, I believe its time for me to head back before your father lights the kitchen on fire.” He said with a recorded laugh track.

“Wait!” Charlie called out a little too frantically if Alastor’s raised eyebrow was any indication. “uhhh. Are you sure you don’t want to try the teacups?”

“Charlie, my dear.” Alastor responded with a suspicious grin. “What is it you’ve been hiding all day? Secrets aren’t your strength and I am beginning to wonder what this charade was all about.”

Charlie hemmed and hawed for a moment, wringing her hands as she attempted to formulate a believable excuse. “Well uh…Dad-no. I uh...”

“What about your father?” Alastor asked, taking a step closer. “Did he put you up to this?"

Before Charlie could answer, Alastor’s shadows swallowed them all and brought them straight back to the hotel. “Al, no!”

--

They materialized inside the hotel lobby. All of the lights had been dimmed save for a few scattered candles. Alastor examined the room, finding it completely empty. “Another outage?” He wondered aloud to himself.

Charlie and Vaggie stood behind him nervously. “Al, we should go back…” Charlie suggested but Alastor just hummed.

“I am not sure what you’re up to, my dear, but this is incredibly suspicious.” His attention was captured by a familiar shadow on the wall by the stairs. The glowing red eyes and outstretched horns told him it was Lucifer’s. The shadow walked along the walls and took his own shadow’s hand, kissing the back of it before leading it upstairs.

“Oh.” Charlie breathed. “It’s time.” Alastor looked back at her in confusion but she simply waved her hand to direct him to follow.

Alastor followed the shadows as if in a trance. The shadows walked together happily, chittering to each other while they led Alastor through the winding halls and stairwells of the hotel. They brought him to his own door and slipped underneath.

Alastor stared at the doorknob for a heartbeat before he threw it open. He was surprised to see that his bayou was lit up with sparkling fairy lights strung in the trees. The lights melded with the fireflies that lazily floated about. They were always Lucifer’s favorite, he’d often lay on their blanket and compare them to the stars he used to create.

The shadows stepped off the wall until they were almost corporeal. They chittered and danced together as they led Alastor deeper into the bayou. He could distantly feel the connection the shared, the phantom sensation of his hand being held and his face being kissed.

Alastor stopped in his tracks when the shadows melted back into the soft earth, leaving him alone with Lucifer. The devil stood beneath a weeping willow, dressed in a form fitting black suit that accentuated his bright red eyes and flaming horns. It was a look he was used to, Lucifer was on edge.

“Hey Al,” He greeted with an agonizingly soft expression.

“What’s all this?” Alastor asked, gesturing to the lights with his microphone. Lucifer’s shadow rose just long enough to gently push Alastor forward while his own shadow took his microphone.

Lucifer reached out to take Alastor’s hand. He smiled softly while he ran a thumb over his knuckles. Slowly, he sunk down onto one knee.

Alastor’s static rose in volume as he watched, his dead heart jumping into his throat. “I can’t keep it in any longer,” Lucifer began. “I had this whole speech planned but-” He chuckled to himself and looked away from Alastor’s intense gaze.

Alastor squeezed his hand, his own grip becoming shaky. “I’m always a fan of a little improv.” He encouraged.

Lucifer’s smile rivaled the sun. “I don’t think eternity is enough time to tell you, Al.” He laughed nervously before continuing. “Will stay with me? Give me the honor of sharing forever?”

Lucifer held out his other hand, in his dark palm he held a golden ring carved to resemble a feather. Alastor could feel the angelic grace that radiated from the band. “Will you marry me?”

Alastor had lived both his life and his death fighting. He trusted few and loved fewer. Never would he imagined himself in this position, much less with the King of Hell on bended knee.

And never did he imagine the decision to be so easy.

Alastor strained against the old leather keeping him strapped to the chair, a thin trail of blood spilled from his forehead until it dripped down his chin. The smell of dust, acrid blood and burning wax hung heavy in the stifling room. Black candles were arranged in careful patterns on the floor, their wicks burning dim.

“You’re making this worse for yourself.” The agent’s voice came from the other end of the room, annoyed and clipped. Alastor clicked his tongue, if only she recognized the mercy he was allowing them.

A mercy that would not be given by the being they sought to summon.

“Tell us what you know.” A different agent spoke up, a male this time. “Can you summon him? What’s the incantation?”

Alastor rolled his eyes in the face of such ridiculous questions. It was obvious that whatever this organization was, the people representing it were obsessed with chasing the demonic and otherworldly. Through the many late night conversations he’d shared with his very own piece of the Other World, these fools had even been somewhat successful in finding evidence of imps and demons.

Now they were after the real deal. Their goals changing from hellborn to the Prince of Darkness himself. Well, Alastor had learned intimately that he was no prince. Lucifer was the king.

And now these fools believed they could conquer The Old Serpent with mere brute force and a hostage. They hadn’t even drawn the sigil on the floor correctly. Alastor laughed to himself, his heart picking up its pace in excitement. Oh what a show this will be.

“Not gonna say anything, huh?” The woman agent spoke up again, stepping back toward a table on the other end of the room to pick up one of the many interrogation tools. “We can handle that.” She laughed.

Suddenly, all light in the room was sucked out. A darkness unlike any other almost suffocating. Alastor whipped his head around the room, seeking out any signs of a new presence.

Then he felt it, the shift. The overwhelming presence of a time unknown to man, a presence of power and sin. The shadows almost seemed alive, the darkness writhing and breathing as a hush fell over the room.

The shadows coalesced into the silhouette of a man, the figure perched on the table, one leg crossed over the other.  Glowing golden eyes cut through the darkness, illuminating the glittering black blood dripping from a grinning maw. “You have something that belongs to me.” The figure admonished, its polyphonic voice layered yet with a chillingly calm tone. 

The figure slid off the table, its hooves clicking against the tile floor. The candles had flickered back to life, the flames bowing and supplicating in the presence of power incarnate.

It stepped closer to the light of the candles, revealing pure white skin draped in black robes. Wings, the color of the night, fluttered against its back. 

“Stay back!” One of the agents screamed, holding up their gun. “W-What are you?” 

“An angel.” The being responded wistfully, its tone had calmed into an almost comforting voice. Quiet and lost somewhere in the stars.

“Who are you?” Another agent asked, trembling where he stood. 

The being grinned wider, its eyes shifting into the color of blood. 

“I’m the devil.” He growled. “Now, kindly undo those straps.” Lucifer asked, his voice brokering now argument. Alastor saw the command for what it was: a warning.

The agents stepped back, shaking where they stood as Lucifer stared deep into their souls. When all they did was whimper and stare, Lucifer affixed his gaze on Alastor.

The man fought against his bind, his hands nearly desperate to thread through the soft blonde hair of the devil. The crimson eyes softened just so when taking in his figure, before they focused on the wound still dripping blood into his eyes.

Heat burst from the devil, the candle flames growing until the room was blindingly bright. There was no sound, no detectable movement before Lucifer stood in front of the chair, looking down at Alastor. The king’s hands gently parted his chocolate colored curls, exposing the source of the blood.

A deep crooning noise reverberated from the pure white chest. Lucifer leaned forward, his serpentine tongue unfurling from his mouth and licking over the wound. The devil hummed appreciatively and pulled back to nuzzle against Alastor’s nose. Alastor could feel the magic washing over him, the wound stitching itself back together and his headache clearing.

A gunshot threw off the moment, making Alastor flinch in his chair in surprise. After gathering his bearings, he noticed the bullet lodged in Lucifer’s teeth. The devil’s mocking laughter sent a shiver down his spine and stirred heat deep in his gut.

Lucifer turned completely toward the agents, their hands trembling where they gripped their guns. Lucifer laughed once more, his tail emerging from his robes to flick and tease like a cat ready to pounce. Without a word, the slaughter commenced.

It was unnecessary, the brutality of it. Alastor knew well Lucifer could drag every soul in the room down into his pit. But instead, he used his animalistic strength to render flesh and spill blood. His sharp teeth maimed and consumed until all that was left was the stench of death and regret.

It was for him, Alastor knew. Lucifer was possessive on a normal day. It wasn’t his nature to allow such an affront to what he had claimed as his go unpunished. Additionally, he knew how much Alastor loved it. This mere human, this sinful man amongst saints had the devil wrapped around his finger, bound to him with a force stronger than worship or a mere contract.

“This is a disaster!” Lucille groaned, face planting onto her bed and groaning into the covers. Clothes were scattered about the entire bedroom, covering nearly every surface and piling on the floor.

Ozzie, Charlie and Vaggie were sat on her chaise lounge, awkwardly staring while the queen had her meltdown.

“Calm down, Lu.” Ozzie chuckled.

Charlie stood to pad over to the bed. When Lucille simply groaned louder, she rubbed a hand soothingly on her mother's shoulder. “It’s okay, mom! We’re here to help you. Surely there is something here.”

“It’s not true. I have literally nothing to wear.” Lucille’s rolled over and covered her face with her hands.

“Just go like that…or less.” Ozzie suggested, gesturing toward the pink, silk robe she was wrapped up in.

Charlie’s face instantly exploded into a beet red hue. “She will not!” She sputtered, turning away in mortification at the idea.

Lucille sat up, hugging one of her many plush ducks. “Come on Oz…not on the first date.” She teased, pretending not the notice Charlie's embarrassed muttering while she dug through the piles of clothes. “Besides, Alice is a classy lady. She appreciates ritual and tradition.”

“How about this?” Charlie suggested, lifting up a white pantsuit with golden trim.

“Oh! That’s a good one, babe.” Vaggie complimented.

Asmodeus made a noise and shook his head. “It looks like she’s going to a business meeting. She needs something flirty and fun.” He said while making his way into the walk-in wardrobe.

“This is more like it.” Asmodeus proclaimed with a waggling brow. The dress he held up was one that Lucille hadn’t worn in years. It was pure white with obscenely long leg slits that went over the hips, the fabric held together by delicate chains. The plunging neckline was adorned with similar chains meant to cross over the bust in a pentagram shape.

Charlie, the poor dear, nearly imploded. She turned her head away and hid her face in her hands. Lucille rose to her feet to take one of Charlie’s hands. “Oz, you’re going to traumatize my daughter.” She chided.

Asmodeus laughed maniacally but turned back to continue his search. Lucille walked back over to look over her silhouette in the floor length mirror. She clicked her tongue, removing the curlers from her hair and letting the length of it fall in ringlets down her back. She shook out the curls, meticulously fussing with golden strands. Anxiety settled heavy in her gut, constricting her throat until it felt as if she was choking on it.

Her and Alice had been dancing around this for months. Both had been too stubborn to see what was forming in front of their noses. The reason why it was that their nights were now spent listening to music and chatting over drinks. Why it was that they had started to find kindred spirits in each other. The push, the pull, the borderline torture finally led to this. Their first official date.

And now Lucille couldn’t get a hold of herself. Nothing she wore felt like her own, her very skin felt like it belonged to something unfamiliar. Why was this so? Why is it that the second she tried to love again that-

“Mom?” Charlie interrupted her spiral with a warm hand on her shoulder. Lucille turned to look up at her daughter’s face. Charlie’s expression was sweet yet knowing. “I think we found it.” She announced happily, turning Lucille around by the shoulders.

Asmodeus snapped his fingers, dressing Lucille up in a simple, drop waisted dress. the fabric was soft, delicate and a lovely shade of blush. The off-shoulder neckline allowed for the choker he added to stand out. The cut of the dress was simple but accentuated her figure.

“It’s perfect.” Lucille announced, beaming at the mirror for the first time in much too long. She twirled the skirt of the dress a few times for good measure before pulling her daughter into a tight hug.

--

“This is ridiculous!” Alice snapped, pacing her room angrily. “You’re making a fool of yourself.” She reprimanded herself. “It’s just dinner, get a grip.”

Alice had spent the better part of an hour running through all possible scenarios in her head, over-analyzing all that could go wrong in the span of one evening out. Her, The Radio Demon, was acting like the blushing dame in those romance novels she would never admit to reading.

Alice spent nearly every night in the company of Lucille, why should tonight be any different?

Except it was different, wasn’t it?

Context meant everything she supposed. Alice growled under her breath, adjusting her full length jacket for the hundredth time although she knew her appearance was pristine. The clock in her room struck the hour, signaling it was time for her to meet Lucille on the hotel roof, their typical rendezvous.

Alice dropped into her shadows, letting them carry her to her destination. When she arrived, she found that Lucille was already there, leaning against the edge and staring off into the distance. The neon lights of Pentagram city reflected against her face in kaleidoscopic patterns like brushes of watercolor. Lucille must have sensed her presence because the golden eyes turned her way and softened substantially.

The queen stood up straight, grinning with a flirtatious air. “How punctual of you, here I was wondering if you would forget.” She teased.

“Now, Lu. You can be called many things; short, temperamental, loud-” Alice jabbed back, ignoring the surely scathing comeback forming on Lucille’s lips. “But forgettable? Never.”

Alice stepped closer and allowed her eyes to explore her companion. “You look lovely this evening.” She stated, not so much a compliment as it was a fact.

Lucille stopped in her tracks, her cheeks faintly glowing gold. “So, where are we going? Are you sure you don’t want to go to Ozzie’s?” She asked.

“Absolutely not.” Alice assured, offering a hand out for Lucille to take. In a swarm of shadow, they vanished into the night.

--

Alice and Lucille walked arm in arm back toward the hotel, still shaking with residual laughter. Lucille playfully knocked her hip against Alice. “That was my very first date, you know.”

“Lu, you were married.” Alice responded, leading them around a street corner and avoiding the many eyes that watched their stroll.

“I know that. But back then, it was just us. We went from falling to building up hell. We never…had anything like this.” Lucille explained, shrugging one shoulder. “All that to say…this was nice.”

“You flatter me, my dear.” Alice responded genuinely, allowing for Lucille to open the hotel doors and escort them inside. Luckily, the lobby was empty. Alice wasn’t sure if she would be willing to tolerate any more prying eyes that evening.

They ascended the stairs together in companionable silence, Lucille’s shoes dangling from her hand. They had been abandoned sometime during the night, somewhere between their second or tenth dance. It hardly mattered. Stopping at the fork between their rooms, Alice turned to face the queen.

Lucille smiled and raised their joined hands to place a chaste kiss against Alice’s knuckles. “Thanks for tonight, Allie.”

Alice watched that pale face for a moment. Lucille’s expression was open, relaxed and satisfied. A sentiment Alice more than reciprocated even if she tried to keep herself from being as obvious about it. She hardly realized when the distance between them slowly melted away until soft lips pressed against hers.

The thud from Lucille dropping her shoes echoed through the hallway as Alice was suddenly pulled closer. Lucille hummed into the kiss, her fingers diving into crimson hair as their mouths moved in tandem. The taste of apple, sugar and something otherworldly lit up Alice’s palate, drawing her in for more. She rested her hands on the small of Lucille’s back, cradling her close and cherishing the shared warmth between them. The floral scent of apple blossoms hung heavy in the air, the perfume wrapping around Alice’s mind and making her pleasantly dizzy.

When they pulled away, it was only far enough for them to breathe. Even if Alice wasn’t completely convinced the angel needed to.

“Goodnight, Allie.” Lucille whispered, rising on her tiptoes to place one more chaste, goodnight kiss on Alice’s lips.