God, Istredd, you can't even shut up in this, can you? Lucifer's trying very much not to think here for his own sanity, but he can't even be allowed that, can he?
The problem is that he does want it.
It would be so, so much easier if he didn't.
Give or take a few months, Lucifer's quickly coming up on a year being in Abraxas and starved from his grace that it's made him into just another version of himself that he didn't like. Always versions that he doesn't like, but this one... This one hurt the most. The version that had to adapt, pulled away from everything he ever knew and really, this should be better.
There's a very small percentage of people that know what he's done, what he's never and will never apologize for. There's a handful of people that understand his name, understand his title, and for the most part they see it as a misfortune, for him. Piss-poor parentage and a bad hand drawn. It's what he wanted. All the slights he's ever made on humanity just to be balled up and tossed in a waste bin.
He's been taking things for himself but it all seems like wicked tricks. Stealing something that doesn't belong to him, like he should be cackling in an alleyway, all cartoonish evil.
He was never supposed to be allowed any of this; and not just him, but all angels. Look from above, never interact. Love, never interact. So separate from Daddy's spinning marble, but oh, you'd better worship.
"Yes, well, I told you I needed time to recover my mind in Thorne and it's been, what, a few days? So, really, that's on you. You know what I do want? I want sleep. But for just a few, fleeting moments, if you can stop talking, that can wait." He chases into Istredd's space after he's withdrawn but he doesn't completely close the distance again. Kiss me, Istredd, he instructs mentally.
no subject
The problem is that he does want it.
It would be so, so much easier if he didn't.
Give or take a few months, Lucifer's quickly coming up on a year being in Abraxas and starved from his grace that it's made him into just another version of himself that he didn't like. Always versions that he doesn't like, but this one... This one hurt the most. The version that had to adapt, pulled away from everything he ever knew and really, this should be better.
There's a very small percentage of people that know what he's done, what he's never and will never apologize for. There's a handful of people that understand his name, understand his title, and for the most part they see it as a misfortune, for him. Piss-poor parentage and a bad hand drawn. It's what he wanted. All the slights he's ever made on humanity just to be balled up and tossed in a waste bin.
He's been taking things for himself but it all seems like wicked tricks. Stealing something that doesn't belong to him, like he should be cackling in an alleyway, all cartoonish evil.
He was never supposed to be allowed any of this; and not just him, but all angels. Look from above, never interact. Love, never interact. So separate from Daddy's spinning marble, but oh, you'd better worship.
"Yes, well, I told you I needed time to recover my mind in Thorne and it's been, what, a few days? So, really, that's on you. You know what I do want? I want sleep. But for just a few, fleeting moments, if you can stop talking, that can wait." He chases into Istredd's space after he's withdrawn but he doesn't completely close the distance again. Kiss me, Istredd, he instructs mentally.