"I am so much closer to human than I have any right to be," he confesses. It would normally be a point of contention. Now it's just... a reality that few realize. How little of himself he feels without the peak of his grace, the prime of his power.
And yet he's learned.
Oh, he's hated that he's learned.
He tries to remember what he said to Istredd. What they were talking about.
Yennefer, of course.
Of course.
"I didn't think I was," he says, his mind on the memory. Interested. In people. In hooking up. The Human Things. "You'll do well to remember I didn't think I'd care about people at the time either," he adds, a bit of a whine making it through, so there's still some sign of him there in all his moroseness.
That was proven very, very wrong. Very recently. He cared about a handful of people and all of Thorne knew it, and then some. Any aloof representation he had was far out of anyone's mind.
"Before the negotiations." Because that, right there, matters significantly to Lucifer, and it isn't just because of everything that happened with the bond itself.
'You'll have to excuse me for my bluntness, but fuck them.'
"I don't want to talk about Yennefer I'm pretty sure she's going to stab me the next time I see her, if I'm honest."
As though there's much else left that they should have talked about after their bond and Yennefer, leaving only Lucifer's issues with family and how he fears even after Istredd's assurances that nothing will change, it's still there. His possessiveness. Michael, fine, that was easy. Lucifer could share Istredd with Michael because what would Michael even do with that.
Castiel previously would be the most human out of any of them. The most watered-down angel. Surface level too long, attached to his charge. Sure, he's unlikely to find another human to lash himself to, but that friendship still rankles Lucifer's nerves. Like something Castiel says will change them, even though Lucifer's been impossibly honest with Istredd about the things he's done and how he has no regrets. It's still there, irrational. But he doesn't mention it.
Lucifer hasn't recoiled from Istredd's touch. He hasn't reacted, either, so not a winning argument one way or the other, but Lucifer's generally been clear when he doesn't want something, always withdrawing or putting space with a tasteless comment.
"How do you keep asking me questions I don't have any answer to," he says. "No one else does this." Except maybe Wanda, but he feels like it's been awhile since he said those three, loathed 'I don't know' words to her. Istredd keeps. Consistently. Drawing them out of him and he doesn't want to say them again despite the uncertainty trailing around in his mind.
For all that he said they don't talk, Lucifer doesn't want to talk.
Well. He doesn't have to, does he?
You're mine. He'd told Lenore as much. Again, that possessiveness. Not a tool, not a resource, certainly not someone to stand between him and a blade-wielding revenge-hopped maniac. I don't not want you. That's not helpful. Eugh. He withdraws slightly from the crouch he's been held in to look at Istredd. I just don't know if it's the way you need me to.
no subject
And yet he's learned.
Oh, he's hated that he's learned.
He tries to remember what he said to Istredd. What they were talking about.
Yennefer, of course.
Of course.
"I didn't think I was," he says, his mind on the memory. Interested. In people. In hooking up. The Human Things. "You'll do well to remember I didn't think I'd care about people at the time either," he adds, a bit of a whine making it through, so there's still some sign of him there in all his moroseness.
That was proven very, very wrong. Very recently. He cared about a handful of people and all of Thorne knew it, and then some. Any aloof representation he had was far out of anyone's mind.
"Before the negotiations." Because that, right there, matters significantly to Lucifer, and it isn't just because of everything that happened with the bond itself.
'You'll have to excuse me for my bluntness, but fuck them.'
"I don't want to talk about Yennefer I'm pretty sure she's going to stab me the next time I see her, if I'm honest."
As though there's much else left that they should have talked about after their bond and Yennefer, leaving only Lucifer's issues with family and how he fears even after Istredd's assurances that nothing will change, it's still there. His possessiveness. Michael, fine, that was easy. Lucifer could share Istredd with Michael because what would Michael even do with that.
Castiel previously would be the most human out of any of them. The most watered-down angel. Surface level too long, attached to his charge. Sure, he's unlikely to find another human to lash himself to, but that friendship still rankles Lucifer's nerves. Like something Castiel says will change them, even though Lucifer's been impossibly honest with Istredd about the things he's done and how he has no regrets. It's still there, irrational. But he doesn't mention it.
Lucifer hasn't recoiled from Istredd's touch. He hasn't reacted, either, so not a winning argument one way or the other, but Lucifer's generally been clear when he doesn't want something, always withdrawing or putting space with a tasteless comment.
"How do you keep asking me questions I don't have any answer to," he says. "No one else does this." Except maybe Wanda, but he feels like it's been awhile since he said those three, loathed 'I don't know' words to her. Istredd keeps. Consistently. Drawing them out of him and he doesn't want to say them again despite the uncertainty trailing around in his mind.
For all that he said they don't talk, Lucifer doesn't want to talk.
Well. He doesn't have to, does he?
You're mine. He'd told Lenore as much. Again, that possessiveness. Not a tool, not a resource, certainly not someone to stand between him and a blade-wielding revenge-hopped maniac. I don't not want you. That's not helpful. Eugh. He withdraws slightly from the crouch he's been held in to look at Istredd. I just don't know if it's the way you need me to.