#luceus;

“...Yeah, it is 3 am.” How the other was awake at this hour - and wide awake, too - Luceus could not grasp. Then again, he was also awake. The end of a particularly long shift. “I made pancakes. On the left are crepes, on the right are... American pancakes. And there’s berries and jam.”

As he sat down on his porch, he picked up one and ate it, bit by bit, savoring the taste. “I mean, judge me all you like. Shouldn’t be out here at this time. But whatever. Can’t sleep, it’s too soon.” The judge part could also be because the pancakes were a tad too greasy.

A shiver ran down his spine. A shiver that could only be caused by someone standing much too close to him, closer than he would ever let anyone that wasn’t his boyfriend or his brothers. Ramiel was right next to him, holding his hand... so who on earth could it be, then?

He was about to turn around when he saw the man. Or was it just another angel... or a fallen one, a demon? He knew that asking a lot of questions would eventually lead to the answer, or a lack thereof, which was also an answer in itself - and there it was, his response. Lucifer.

For the first time in a while, the devil inside him stirred in response. Was he trying to reach out to the other demon? Possibly. Knowing him, he would want to swallow the other Lucifer whole, burn him to a crisp and dance all over the ashes. He would want to make sure no other version of him existed so he could be the one and only such demon in the world - the demon who was also human, holding a mortal hostage to do his bidding, and thus showing everyone how powerful he was.

“Who are you? And how the hell did you get here?”

The dark alley, the falling evening, the cold, the dirt. It all makes for a grim atmosphere - and Luceus’s words do not brighten it, either. The teenager knows that he ought to be careful, that he shouldn’t be speaking to anyone lest they return him to the underground laboratory he has clawed himself out of.

But what he doesn’t know yet, something he is about to realise very, very soon, is that he is being stared at this way because he’s possessed. Not because he’s a mess of glaring blue eyes, balled fists and punches ready to be sent flying, no - although that is an entirely different mess of its own.

No, the reason he is being stared at this way is because he has been possessed, and without his knowledge, too. The demon lurking inside him, using his body as a vessel, as a home, as a means to exist, has taken over, lighting his eyes a bright, cold, evil yellow, making his skin glow in gold, his wings resembling those of a dragon, also gold, spread behind his back.

“Are you here to try and drag me back, huh? Are you? Answer me. Now!”

“What, did you know ’em? Well, they are dead now.” Their blood may not be on Luceus, yet the authority in his voice hints that even if he doesn’t have anything to do with their death, he certainly knows more about it than he should. And he does have a lot to do with it.

“This ain’t a competition!” Nah, he just hated losing. As the youngest triplet, Luceus was used to either having to fight for things tooth and nail, or receiving them on a silver platter, but if he had to be honest, he was tired of fighting as hard as he had. Couldn’t this shit be easier, dammit?!

And then, Jamie was a natural. He could not just beat that! Luceus’ and his brothers’ demons did not use firearms to fight, instead preferring to opt for swords and knives, and he was left struggling to land his shots as close to the bullseye as he could.

On the bright side, as a silver lining, he managed to break the previous person’s record on the punching machine - but at a cost. When he stood up, having crouched to avoid the punching bag, he was panting, and his face was red. “So, we can just agree you’re unmatched with shooting, and I could lift this machine on a good day. Deal?” he gave the other a grin.

“Do people spend years wondering how the hell the world works and how the hell they are supposed to fit into it? Or is this too much thinking, and life’s supposed to just... be had as it happens, one step at a time?”

Whether the little monologue has any connection to the piece of broken mirror he is holding in his hand, Luceus is not sure; it’s most likely not. It is meant to distract from his bleeding, though – if anyone’s listening, that is.

“Aww, luv. Merry Christmas to you, too!” Luceus has been baking cookies all day... so he brings Ramiel a bag, as well as a pair of fluffy socks that may or may not have been enchanted to keep feet extra warm.

And a kiss.

“This guy is definitely coming with me,” he secures the plush bear on his shoulder, then picks up the sword and smiles. “I guess I’ll have to learn how to use two at the same time...”