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The pain had been unbearable. His fall from grace had burned right through him as he plummeted into the Devildom atmosphere. The loss of his sister had seared into his heart, making him feel empty and lost.
He had been angry. The blind rage that followed was just as painful, starting in his chest and rapidly blossoming until every fibre of his being seemingly was on fire. Rage was his fuel that burned at an alarming rate, yet it was short-lived, evolving into something completely different. His rage had adopted a physical form, one that he could pick up and hold close; something that was unmistakenly his.
Part of him wanted to reject this strange child form his rage had taken. His fragmented, damaged, angelic morals screamed louder; his longing for family spurring on the gentle hold onto the child, no larger than a human newborn.
This child – his child – fussed most days. The Devildom was scary for the innocent being safely tucked into his arms. The wind howled and whistled against the trees outside the house they were provided with, rattling the windows every so often. He stood strong though, shielding his child away, keeping him safe and protected.
Often, he found himself carefully pacing around his private study, child in arms, quietly talking. He didn’t know if he talked to his child for comfort or reassurance, but it seemed to help with his child’s fussing.
“Dear little Satan, what to say to you…”
His conversations always started this way, looking down at his child with a loving smile. He would tuck a stray strand of sandy hair behind his tiny ear, wiggling his fingers for his child’s amusement.
“You have green eyes, you have such silky hair…” a soft sigh was exhaled, but the tender smile remained, “…when you came into this world, you cried and it broke my heart.”
It was true. His rage had dissipated, but his fragmented heart seemed to break further as the child cried and cried. Perhaps it was his angelic morals feeling for the child, but he had wanted to protect it.
“I’m dedicating every day to you… domestic life was never quite my style…”
The child in his arms gurgled and giggled at the wiggling fingers, chubby fingers reaching up to catch them.
“When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart… and I thought I was so smart…”
Even though his child was so still young, his prideful nature could already tell they were going to be incredibly strong, as well as intelligent.
The wind howled outside, and he couldn’t help but gaze towards the window.
“You will grow up strong in this strange nation… I’ll bleed and fight for you, I’ll make this right for you.” His promises were serious, as the eldest and the strongest, it was his duty to make it so.
“When I lay a strong enough foundation, I’ll pass this onto you, I’ll give this world to you… and you’ll blow us all away…”
These were his dreams, his hopes, for the future. He wanted nothing but the best for his family. Of course, he wanted all of his brothers to do well, but they didn’t come from him. His little Satan had, which only drove his ambition for perfection more.
He cast his eyes back towards his child, who let out a yawn and a whine. It was time for a change of scenery, so he walked them back to his room where his child’s cot was. He could hear his brother’s quiet conversations going on downstairs, and he momentarily wondered if he should take his child down so they could all bid him goodnight.
Another whimper from his child suggested they wanted to get some sleep straight away, so he continued his journey from the private study to his bedroom.
The room was considerably quieter, with the wind far less audible. The cot was already prepared for his child’s rest, so he pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead and placed them down. His child, as expected, fussed at the loss of contact, so he made quick work of arranging the baby blanket around their little body.
“My father… wasn’t around…”
Was it the truth?
“I swear that I’ll be around for you."
He was gently rocking the cot now, which helped lessen the quiet fussing. His child was tired, he could tell, but those beautiful green eyes still looked up at him, as if pressing him to continue the conversation.
Maybe it was his confession?
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” a chuckle escaped his lips, “I’ll make a million mistakes… but I’ll make this world safe and sound for you…”
Lucifer looked down at his son, who’s eyes slipped closed as they fell into a peaceful slumber. Tiny hands had grabbed the blanket wrapped carefully around them. It was the most beautiful sight he had seen in a while.
He hoped that, as his son grew up, they would continue being as close as they were in that moment.
It was a shame it never came to be.