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If you had asked Lucifer if she believes in multiple universes and multiple intentities, that is clearly you, but at the same time not you...But it kinda is, you're just in a different timeline and reality. If you had asked her about it, the devil would have scoffed, shrugged, and responded with a calm voice and said, "Not a possibility I'd put past, but highly unlikely." Her gaze, those piercing blood-red eyes, may look at you, and gaze upon you with a questioning, almost disbelieving, and incredulous stare that makes one small.
Nonetheless, her response would remain as is. Reality was a mere construct for beings like her, yes, but it's not like it's a feat that could easily be broken just because she is of divinity. There are rules, as her Father use to say.
Well...
When did rules ever stop a Morningstar?
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Truth be told, it was an accident.
Really.
A mere mistake — no, of course not —a mere mishap of some sort, on Lucifer's calculation of her abilities, which had almost caused her to question how far she was actually able to use and shape them. She may have dabbled, gone and done about too much in her recent research and hyperfixation about certain cosmic realities, and their endless possibilities. Nevertheless, it didn't have to be this dramatic a circumstance that just so happened to turn into the situation she was in right now. How would she know it would have worked? It was only research without proper evidential credit.
A low grunt escaped the devil's crimson-painted lips as she slowly rose from the floor, where she had been rudely thrown by a ghastly, white, shining, ever-so-typical portal that even she could have conjured. "Should I have that magister smited for not putting a 'P.S: this fucking works by the way at the end' of that stupid scroll?" she grumbles as she dusts the white lace of her dress, clicking her tongue as she spots dirt and dust on it, an annoyed huff left her lips. With a snap of her fingers, the lace was as clean as the pearly gates of heaven itself.
She paused at that thought before letting a small, mock chuckle leave her lips. "Pfft, the irony," she said.
Truly, she had never expected it to work. After all, different cosmic realities and universes were a mere question and curiosity. A question that was brought up by none other than Stolas himself.
The memory of the discussion is now morphing into a much more vivid scene in her head, now that she is in this certain, impending, and unknown situation.
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Lucifer sat idly and, quite frankly, bored out of her mind on her throne, her gaze wandering from time to time to any corner of the room as she listened. Well, tries to listen to the squawking qualms and chatter of her creation, the Goetias.
Don't get her wrong, she adored them, she really did. But sometimes, arrogance has a way of turning adoration into a slow, simmering exasperation, which makes the Queen question her handiwork. Her gaze squinted, tighter now the more she listened to this...' what was his name again??'
"Andrealphus, my queen." Lucifer's gaze quickly fell on her right-hand-demon, the only demon who was allowed to stand beside her, the only demon who had the utter nerve to bend down, lean in, and whisper directly to her ear and not get swatted at. The look in the demon's eyes made Lucifer's eye almost twitch; cheeky bastard always knew what she was thinking, despite the facade she always put up on occasions like this.
Lucifer let out a small hum as a response before leaning on the large golden throne. The whole thing blurred around her as she (not) listened. The more the peacock talked, the more Lucifer felt like she was losing it. What was he even on about again? She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was aching to move, to just leave the grand room, to leave the uncomfortable gold throne. But she'd be damned if she'd let it be know--
"I believe your time has been cut short, Andrealphus." The whole room went stiff, silence forming due to the voice that had interrupted the now affronted peacock; the entirety of the Ars Goetia necks' almost cracked with how fast they looked up from where they stood. The Queen's right-hand demon had just spoken, and everyone went stiff and silent as a board, listening, not because they wanted to listen but because of offense. Their sharp gazes went from the demon and now straight to their Queen.
And they waited. Waited for their creator, The Queen, The Devil, who sat on the golden throne, to scowl, to be angry at the lack of respect for titles the demon showed. They waited for their creator to put him in his place, for how could a lowly demon (despite being the literal right-hand demon of the queen) like him interrupt a Goetia?
"The Queen has more important things to discuss with Prince Stolas than listen to your useless squawking." His voice was unnervingly calm, the filter--a static that made every word a statement. A fact, and a demand. And that made the court seethe.
Their gaze, mostly from Andrealphus and his family, was tight and held in a sharp squint. The disrespectful way he addressed them, the dismissal, was enough to make them show their disdain for the demon, their feathers shifting and slightly fanning open, their necks craning and tilting to the side aggressively. One could hear the scraping of their claws against the marbling.
The room was filled with this defiant tension from the demon, and a hierarchical one coming from a flock of birds that stood tall, proud, and agitated on the marbled floors within the royal dais. The tension could be cut open with an angelic spear at that very moment, until.
A chuckle left the Queen's lips, the whole room stiffened as the Queen shook her head slowly before she rose from her throne, standing tall (well, not that tall, but heels helped). Lazily flipping her golden locks away from her shoulder before she looked down at them from her throne, "Very well." Her gaze quickly scanned the entire room, looking for the familiar features of the owl within the court full of birds. Her sight, found the owl within seconds, her gaze measured and calm, "Come now, Stolas. The garden roses have bloomed beautifully," she says as she turns her back and walks out first, her heels clicking against the polished, black and red marble of the floors, the train of her dress sweeps from her behind as she walked away, without a second glance.
The lack of scolding for the demon made the rest of the Goetia let out a small but rapid caw, the displeasure evident. Their scowls and their scorn for the demon heighten even more. The favor was clear, and it wasn't for them.
The demon to her right had a grin that could almost be called manic--no, it was indeed a manic, feral, and cocky grin. His entire set of sharp teeth showed as his piercing gaze went from being keen to downright withering, and when you look even closer, there was triumph in his glare. Which set the flock of birds to screech and hiss at him, with this blatant public favor, decorum be damned.
The eldritch demon looked at Stolas and gave him a nod, acknowledging his presence, as he tilted his head to follow along before turning his back to follow the Queen. The Prince of Hell, Stolas, could only sigh as he did so, the stares of the court followed him until the grand doors closed behind him with a heavy thud.
"Aren't they beautiful, Stolas?" The Queen says, her smile appeased and relaxed now that she was away from the formalities of it all, the demon was always by her side, never wavering and never leaving, as he took it upon himself to pluck a few blooming roses, colors varying from a bright pink rose to the darkest red and black rose, which he carefully trimmed the thorns off before handing it to the queen for her to admire.
Prince Stolas gave a small neutral smile as he looked at Lucifer with calmness and familiarity, "Indeed, your highness. I see you've finally made the raven rose bloom perfectly," he said in a praiseful tone, to which Lucifer just hummed in delight. With care, the queen places the roses on her lap as she picks at them one by one, her fingers playing with the petals. Listening to the owl ramble about the cosmos, stars, and his line of work to her.
A peaceful and mundane update coming from the owl made the queen ease up even more. Stolas was probably one, if not the only, Goetia she could truly tolerate--despite all the rumors circling the prince--she found his lack of hunger for power and malice refreshing. Arrogance, still there, but oh so trivial and more containable than the rest of the court.
The conversation was mundane, low-effort, and right on Lucifer's preference. The demon occassionally asking the correct line of questions that Lucifer knows is important, but would rather leave the asking to her oh-so capable aide. He was afterall an extension of her in a sort of way.
"Your Majesty, forgive me for asking such nonsense of a question, but" the owl took a sip of the tea, to give him a sort of face of courage to ask the question he so deems quite nonsensical and well, a bit funny, "Do you believe, well rather is the posibility of another dimension or cosmic rift to another universe plausible for you?"
The queen paused for a fraction of a second, and the aide raised a brow at the ridiculous question. Lucifer's gaze raised from the roses to the Owl prince with a tilted brow. She asks, "Are you asking truthfully or just for shits and giggles?" The lack of refinement in her line of questioning made the owl bite his lower lip.
"Truthfully, my queen."
"..what an odd question, stolas."
"Well, for the fun of it all, my lady."
Lucifer leans against her seat, the roses still in the palms of her hands and on her lap, her eyes now held with an incredelous look, "Well, it's not impossible."
"So it can happen?"
"...."
Lucifer let out a small 'mmm.' Tilting her head to the side of her seat, her lips form a thin line as she thinks it through. Is it possible? Maybe. It's not something Lucifer can pass, espiecally if divinity would be involved,
The Queen's silence and expression made the whole thing awkward to say the least. The aide's gaze was slowly shifting into a more reproachful stare for the prince, making stolas shift in his seat, fidgeting with his claws.
"Not a possibility I'd put past, but highly unlikely," Lucifer admits with a shrug. Well, it was true, but only if you have Magisters and knowledge from an ancient language known as Urielian, a very lost and archaic language that only archangels and the seraphims know, and a bit of those magisters who worshipped the archangel of wisdom, so it was highly unlike-
"Does it involve a very old and archaic language?"
The table went silent.
The obsidian fingers that were happily fluffing up each petal of a dark red rose stopped mid stroke, the sharp crimson claws of the demon beside the queen twitched on his cane, and the wind, suddenly louder than it should, swept by the table, which made the owl nervously clear his throat, his claws clicking with his teacup.
Lucifer was first to break the silence. She placed the rose on the edge of the table before leaning in, her elbows on the glass table, her chin resting on her palm as she looked straight into Stolas, "Why do you ask? Is there something that you would like to show, Prince Stolas of the Ars Goatia?"
"On the contrary, my queen." Stolas said as he shook his head, "Simply curiosity."
"A dangerous act, Prince Stolas," the queen responded.
"Yes, it is, my queen."
"So?"
Stolas lets out a sigh. With his ability, he conjured up his grimoire along with a few scrolls. Old and withered scrolls, which made Lucifer's interest greater now.
The prince opens the grimoire to a forbidden page, a page that was clearly sealed--or rather, a page that was not supposed to be there, but is now revealing itself. He slowly hands over the scrolls and his grimoire to both the Queen and her aide. "These scrolls have been nothing but puzzles to me, my queen. So I come here to ask,"
Lucifer's brow scrunched up as she reached for the grimoire, the scrolls to her aide. Lucifer flipped through the pages, skimming them rather than reading. The pages were clearly written in another language, an ancient language. That archaic language.
The language was familiar, of course it was.
"These are in Urielian language..." she mumbles as she skims through the letters, the words. Urielian language was the language of magisters who worshipped Uriel, the Archangel of wisdom. Her younger brother...before the fall.
With a puzzled look on her face, Lucifer looked up, "Urielian in a Goetia grimoire, what have you been studying, Stolas?" The question almost felt like an accusation coming from her; her voice was tense and uneven. Uneven enough to make her aide grip on his cane, the cane slowly transformed, shifting into his weapon.
The prince raises his clawed hands in surrender, panic surging in when he sees the weapon slowly appearing, the aide's glare, and the queen's tensed and almost accusatory tone made the owl fretful, shaking his head rapidly as he defends himself, "My queen its not what it looks like! Truly, it isn't!"
"Then how?"
"I, myself, have no clue, my queen."
The aide raised his brow, and the blade to his scythe gleamed dangerously. The owl choked on his own saliva and words.
"I swear!! My queen, I would never study such knowledge without prior announcements to you! I would gladly hand it all over to you if it pleases you!"
Lucifer tilts her head to the side as she looks at the owl, scanning him, observing every single scrunch of his features, every line, to see any deception. She saw none.
With a sigh, she waved her hand up, a gesture meant for her aide. The demon grumbled but obeyed, hiding his malice and suspicion as he went back to straighten his back, his cane returning, his smile still wide and stretched. The transition sent chills down the prince's spine.
"Stolas," the queen calls to his attention, "I think it is best if you leave these items in the palace archive. Your grimoire will be suspended for now." Stolas's eyes slightly widen at that. The implications of a suspension meant something dreadful to Stolas--but then The Queen smiles softly at him, "How about you spend this time of suspension with your daughter. Take time off while the grimoire will be out of commission to let's say...hmm."
"2 weeks would suffice for the cleaning, my queen," the demon aide says with that stretch smile on his face. Lucifer clasps both her hands together, a smile stretching on her lips as she nods,
"2 weeks it is!"
Stolas wanted to protest, but kept his mouth in a tight, thin line. Swallowing the words down as he forced a smile to creep back into his face, "Of course, your grace. Time with my darling Octavia would be precious, indeed." It wasn't a lie to say so.
The Queen nodded and hummed, grabbing the rose back as she hummed.
"Daughters are indeed precious," she speaks in a soft tone, drowning her sense of smell with the rose on her hands. She spoke as if she too had a daughter of her own.
But the queen had none to nurture.
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The memory could only make The Queen sigh as she twirls her blonde hair around one of her long obsidian fingers. Now, it was a mere passing knowledge--in one of those annual meetings she allowed the Goetia line to have--never to be brought up again, but that single knowledge she was handed had made her go into a deep consuming interest. The knowledge that was sealed in the archive in the palace had plagued her, even when working on her little swan and duck toy projects. And when it interrupted duck time, it was truly a deep interest.
So to end her misery and to feed her own thirst for answers and knowledge, she had decided to find out for herself. Leaving her workshop, and maybe even some of her royal duties to her deerly accommodating, right-hand-demon. As she soon locked herself in the royal archive, reading multiple scrolls about the cosmos and reality, and maybe a bit of understanding where to split the line of both of these topics.
Just a bit.
"Now, where am I..." the queen asks to herself, her gaze swept across the room, her lips open slightly as she soon realized the interior of the room she was in, although the entire room was dusty and clearly had no signs of anyone living within the vicinity...probably within the whole place considering how eerily quiet everything was. The interior of the room was enough to make her have a sense of where she was.
Lucifer let out an absent-minded hum, before she takes it all in, "Seems like I'm still in the Palace," she says as she slowly walks up to one of the shelves in the room, her long, sharp obsidian finger tracing the dusty wood, "Looks like this one has been left unkept." her brows scrunching between her temples as she rubs both fingers on the dust that had accumulated on there.
Her gaze shifted and landed on the table. With a click and echo of her heels, she walked towards the table, her hand slowly touching the top, a slow trace on the wood. The wood...was a replica of a certain tree that came from the Garden of Eden, that she can tell. Of course, she can. She had the same one in her office.
But unlike this, unkept, dusty, and messy office, her own office was full of life. Her glorious creations were set beside and on top of the shelves, little knick-knacks and trinkets flying around the chandelier, while a gold-crusted wooden radio hummed and played tunes from the side of her table, as she worked till dusk. It was a room where she would spend when needed, hence why she made sure it was a sanctuary to her, a place that would hold all things that made sure she never lost the spark of being a monarch in the depths of her own punishment. The irony of that was never lost on her, but her kingdom deserves a queen, despite it being her prison.
Besides, she wasn't alone anymore.
Lucifer hummed to herself as she looked at the abandoned papers on the table. The paper was a talk about a charter for the sin of greed, but her gaze was more fixed on the scribble, small doodles, and drawings of ducks, the understanding dawning on her, "Not a fan of royal duties, huh?" she says to no one but herself and the dusty air of the room. A low chuckle escaped her lips as she once again looked around the place. Every corner, every bookshelf, and every abandoned paper was scattered along the messy, dusty marble floor.
"What are you doing now that you've abandoned all this..." she whispers yet again, to no one but the room. Putting down the paper back on the table, she walks towards the door. Her hands stretched to the doorknob, pausing for a bit as she took a deep breath. Her grip on the handle tightens slightly before she finally pulls it open. The door creaked loudly, too loudly, making the halls echo.
Lucifer winced at that, her gaze at the dark halls. "...is this place truly abandoned?" she mumbles as she leaves the room, leaving the door to the office open. Her heels clicked and echoed as she walked along the halls, her eyes looking for something, anything that indicated the life of this version of herself.
There were so many questions popping into her head at this very moment.
What was this Lucifer like? What had happened to this Lucifer's life? Was the Lucifer here still even a monarch? Or--
Lucifer stopped dead in her tracks. Her neck almost snapped from how fast she turned to the corner of the long hall. Something caught the corner of her eye, and it was a portrait. Multiple portraits, to be specific. With hurried steps, the monarch rushed towards them, and before she knew it, she was already standing in front of all the portraits. The hall, this hall was littered with them.
Her eyes scanning and examining each of them, her crimson eyes slowly widening with each new face the photos revealed, her hand slowly reaching out to touch them. Her eyes scanning and searching until she found her confirmation, she was not a she in this world.
"...so this is the form you took," she says, as her gaze swept across the devil in the photos, the similiarities was there, she could see that, the apple cheeks of the morningstar still plastered in his porcelain white skin, his smile only wider and more angular and virile than her own. Color palette remained, atleast. His hair was significantly shorter than her long, golden mane, which surely would make Rapunzel weep with how much volume it had...as Beelzebub would occasionally point out to her when the sin got the chance to play with her hair.
Her gaze shifted from him to the rest, and her breathing came to a halt as her gaze rested on the family portrait, which was the most shocking of all. She--He was married?! To who!? What?!
The woman she saw was...well, gorgeous. Very gorgeous actually, with golden hair as well, sharp siren-like eyes that almost made her heart flutter, she had large horns protruding on top of her hair, which...Lucifer had to wonder which lineage of demons she was, and she was taller, too. Wow...clearly..a type.
Her face felt warm, clearing her throat as she avoided thinking about her...type. What was it with tall demons, who looked like they could kill and still seduce you at the same time, that had her, and even this Lucifer acting like a human teenager who just found their first crush?!
Fanning away the slow golden blush that was creeping into her cheeks, her eyes wandered again, and this time her mouth slipped open.
"...A daughter?" she whispers, her voice lilting with disbelief and awe. Obsidian fingers tracing down the photo, her gaze in awe and mesmerized as she takes in the features of the girl in the photo. Long blonde hair, the same apple cheeks, and "...she looks like me..." her voice sounded so spellbound by that mere fact.
A daughter, a beautiful daughter that was the very picture of her...oh, how precious.
Lucifer felt her heart beat loudly, her eyes suddenly felt like they were close to watering, a soft and lingering smile on her lips as she continued to gaze at the girl, the concept of this world's Lucifer had a daughter...he had a family.
How..envious.
The Queen continued to rummage through the photos, her smile remaining as she found each and every one of the photos nothing but...miraculous and heart-warming. She giggled as she spotted a photo of the girl in an all-black phase. 'Was this an emo phase of hers?' she thought to herself, and then shifted her gaze to another photo. A tiny squeal escaped the queen's lips as she spotted a baby photo of the little one.
Tucked in between her parents and smiling happily, their smiles so loving, so happy. The Queen couldn't help clasping her hands together, the clasps hands went over her mouth, her expression full of delight and awe. Her heart hummed a warm and simmering feeling of tenderness she hadn't expected would ever come from her, her gaze fixed on the child rather than this version of her.
There was warmth in her stare for the child, but then the feeling of dreadful envy came rushing in...her lips agape slightly, her hands on her chest as she tightly held onto the garments of her clothes.
This version of her...He had a family...
A beautiful and loving wife.
And an adorable princess...a precious daughter.
He had something she didn't, and that...seethed at her. Was she angry? Of course not, envious really. How can this lucifer found love in the pits of hell to the point of creating someone so...priceless...
How did he open his heart to someone without the dread of the large gap that it may have in the relationship? Without the insecurity of being a fallen? Of being the angel that damned the whole of humanity with her own selfishness of thinking what she thought was right...how?
The thoughts crawled and clawed at her damned soul, at her heart and her mind. He had a family, something she always missed ever since the fall. She stood there, almost frozen as her gaze lingered on the picture, her own heartbeat slow and uneven.
"A family.."
"Is not necessary to you, My queen."
"WHATTHEFUCK-!" Lucifer jumped at the voice, stumbling at her heels. Almost falling before someone caught her, her back hitting a familiar lean frame. She turned around and was met with a familiar demon.
"ALASTOR!!"
The deer demon could only let out a staticky chuckle as he held her in his arms, before letting go after Lucifer wiggled her way to escape the deer's touch. The queen grumbled and scolded him for scaring her, to which the demon could only tilt his head to the side as his smile was wide and smug, like it always was. The demon stood straight behind her, cane in hand, as he looked down at her with a raised and curious brow,
"Might I ask, why are we here in this realm, Luci?" The nickname made Lucifer feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. With a deep shaky breath, she looked up at him with a scrunched up brow and small pout on her lips, "First off, why are you even here?!"
The question was stupid.
And they both knew that.
Ever since becoming her aide, her weapon, her executioner, and simply...just hers in a soul sense. Alastor had become an extension of her; wherever she was, he always knew. Her powers? He can borrow and use, in her name. Her authority? he shared and used. This was the contract they created, a contract Alastor offered to escape the clutches of being an Overlord with limitations. Limitations were something Alastor did not want in a long-term sense.
Lucifer did not offer those limitations. Alastor can still remember how easy it was, the conversation of the contract, which makes the eldritch demon question Lucifer's sense of danger, but then again, when you're faced with the devil, who really is the one in danger?
Alastor could only shake his head as he took a deep breath, his mouth open before closing. Clearly considering his words, which was rare, but at this very moment, he would let this slide, considering she did have a moment, and he interrupted. A second passed that felt longer before he answered, "Lu, I should be asking you that."
Lucifer opened her mouth, only to close it again. She bit her lower lip, she cast her eyes downwards, her cheeks warming up a bit, before she looked back at him and answered, "I'm your queen! Why should I need a reason?"
Alastor's clawed hands gripped tightly around his cane, his gaze never leaving her. His eyes burned into her as he felt his sanity slipping with that response. A response she only uses when she herself doesn't even know why, but doesn't want to be questioned. Alastor took a deep, shaky, and suffering breath of someone who was counting to ten within the depths of their damned soul.
He bit his tongue for good measure before his smile tightened, "Lucifer."
"..." Lucifer crossed her arms together, her shoulders deflating as she did. Her lips thinned as she shifted her gaze to the floor before returning to the portraits on the wall. "I was just curious." She finally answered.
Sighing as her gaze lingered on the picture in front of her, "You know it was an accident," she whispers. Alastor sighed, "An accident that happened after your insistence on studying this type of magic." he moved closer to her, only inches away from her back.
"There are rules to this, you must know."
"When did rules stop the devil, Al?"
Alastor paused at that, and Lucifer felt it. She looked behind her to meet his gaze, only to see Alastor have a smile that almost felt like manic amusement. He was looking at her, his gaze unnervingly only at her, the sharp set of teeth fully shown with his grin. His tight hold and grip on his cane was almost like an anchor, an anchor to hold onto. Something in her voice, in her tone, and in her...entitleness, reminded him of why he had knelt once and never risen since.
"...yes..quite right, My Queen..."
His tone, his gaze made her heart squeeze. Something inside her felt exposed...to say the least. She bit the inner corner of her mouth before she avoided his intense gaze. She's gonna ignore that. And she did. She always did...
"Isn't she adorable?" She asks as she slowly reaches for the picture of the small girl that was perched on top of this version of herself. Alastor's gaze left her, and she silently let a deep breath she didn't know she was holding leave her lips.
Alastor looked at who she was pointing at, and his eye did a small twitch and squint as he realized what she was looking at. A family portrait...a child. His grip on his cane tightened even more.
"...she looks like you." Lucifer smiles softly at that, a giggle escaping her. "Doesn't she--"
"But also not." Lucifer stilled.
She turned around, her brow knitted into a frown, "What?"
Alastor's smile remained, his voice even, the static never leaving and never rising. He looked at the photo, at the girl, "She's not yours, simply put," he said bluntly, which shattered Lucifer in a way. Of course she wasn't! And she knew that! How dare--
Alastor suddenly grabs hold of her, pulling her close, her back hitting his chest. Not a space separating them as his grip is tight on her shoulders, "What are you--"
Alastor points at the photo of the girl, "She only has the color of you," he points out, his hold on her tight but never meant to hurt her, not that he can, but still, the grip was a hold for attention. Alastor begins to point at the small girl's hair, "She has the color of your hair, but not the untame nature of it. A daughter of yours should have your untamable hair, not just the color but also its spirit." Lucifer rolled her eyes, but Alastor clicked his tongue and held her chin.
"Her eyes, too soft, too...naive,"
"But she--"
"Her smile, her teeth...too influenced by that woman in the photo. A woman that you do not even know," he whispers as his gaze continues to linger on her and the photo. His scrutinizing gaze felt like judgment, not to her, never on her.
Lucifer bit the inner bottom of her lip as she finally started to listen and let him continue, which made Alastor's smile curve dangerously. Using the bottom of his cane, he points at the morningstar cheeks of the girl, "The mark of the morningstar on her, too dull. Too...pink." his fingers that were holding on her chin slowly move to caress the marks of her cheeks, caressing them in a way that sent shivers down Lucifer's spine. Her knees were almost buckling from his touch.
"Your daughter...yours, should have the reddest ones. Red as the apple you used to tempt Eve." Lucifer whines softly at that, the shudder and soft gasp that escape her never left unnoticed by the demon who locked her frame with his own. He lets out a deep, dark chuckle as he continues.
"A child that came from you..." Lucifer's cheeks flushed gold, her lips agape, her body shuddering as Alastor's hand slowly touched her stomach, his sharp fingers pressed against the clothes before he pressed on it, tracing, caressing, using his hand, his palm, and three fingers to trace down towards her lower abdomen. The eldritch demon smirks knowingly as he presses his fingers on the area. The part of her, where she can cradle the being she so desires, "Should be all that, and more, most importantly..." Alastor leans against her as he bends to her ear and whispers,
"She should only belong to you...and only you."
Lucifer gasps softly at that...her breathing uneven, heavily, hollow and fast as she herself feels more...hot and bothered by the way he holds her, touches her, and...' oh father help me...'
Her lips agape as she tries to let small breaths through them, her heart thumping rapidly in her ribcage, "...I.." Alastor looks up at her, his brow raising. "I..wouldn't mind...sharing her...". Oh...my.
The tension thickened, Alastor swallowed, his smile faltering, his hands froze against her skin, "...sharing her..?"
Alastor's eyes almost turned to dials as he looked at Lucifer...his breathing slowly laboring, thick and hitch, as he looked at the queen---the devil in his arms. A vision of temptation.
Lucifer's head tilted to look up at him, her porcelain skin blushing with the unique golden blush, a feature that came with her ichor. Her lips, those dark oxblood-colored (specifically #2C0000) lips, agape with a tempting shine that made Alastor shudder with his restraints. Strands of her untamable golden hair framed her face, making her look like she was carved with reverence...with favor. The dangerous part was that she was.
His hold on her trembling...tightening. 'My second death would be of you, woman.' his gaze felt like that, his sharp teeth almost grinding with how hard he was biting down on them.
The tension was thick, and so Lucifer made it even thicker. She turned her entire body towards him, her chest pressed against his body, Alastor's hand raised, unsure where to hold now. His dominance over the situation suddenly went astray, "Tell me, Alastor..." she whispers as she slowly leans up to him. Alastor swallowed.
Lucifer's hand slowly crept up, over his shoulder, her fingers now fidgeting with the low-hanging ponytail of his red and black hair, "Are you...willing to fulfill my aching..desire?" she asks in a low, breathy whisper, her intentions dripping with intensity.
Alastor felt his restraint falter, his fingers twitching on the sides of her, "Your...your majesty..."
"Yes...my deer?" Now on her toe, her weight pressed against Alastor's frame, her face inches away from his, their lips so close. So, near that their breaths mingled with one another, the heat practically melting and covering them both.
Alastor's hands suddenly found her waist, and with a tight and claiming grip, he took hold of her, his teeth grinding as he growled, "...Lucifer, you..I..would..for..you-" The words that left, tried to leave his mouth were in shambles, and almost incoherent, against the gaze of a temptress that was the devil herself, the faint heat of a blush that littered Alastor's face slowly simmered even more as he felt her come near, he waited for their lips to crash.
Waited...but it never came. And that made him almost claw her sides. Lucifer merely let out a breathy chuckle as she felt his claws on her side. "Easy now," she whispers, her one hand suddenly moved away from his hair, pointer finger now on his lips.
"Don't falter now, Al," she whispers, before she leans in and pecks the finger she placed on his lips. Alastor groaned at that.
The devil was a tease. A damn fucking tease.
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Lucifer and Alastor returned to their own realm. The magic that kept them on that side of reality could only hold onto them for a little time. The time that Lucifer spent admiring the photos of the child, one final time, before she soon let go of the hope of ever meeting her.
For one, she had no idea the damage that would cost if she ever were to meet her, and for the second, Alastor's words also felt like a realization for her. That girl was not her child. That Lucifer in that realm was only a version of her, but ultimately not her.
Their experience, their realities, were too big. The gaps were too huge, even with how little Lucifer knew, the abandoned palace and office were enough to cement that thought. She was a monarch, he...well, she didn't know, truth be told.
Would she want to find out? Maybe.
But, there was one thing in her mind that had never left her...the whisper of Alastor's words...now that...was a topic she'd gladly want to follow up.
The Queen leaned against her office table as she remembered the tension, the words, his lingering and...yearning eyes. Lucifer bit her lips, her obsidian finger playing with a strand of her hair as she replays the way he looked at her, the way he held her...and only at her.
A shudder escaped her. And she grinned, "...so he wouldn't mind it then."
Maybe there was hope for her desires afterall.