my_own_advocate | Lucifer's Loft, Los Angeles, Saturday

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Lucifer's Loft, Los Angeles, Saturday

Yesterday had been a ~~still being played out~~ day full of musical numbers and Dad and a woman murdering her judgemental referee husband for entirely understandable reasons. Lucifer had gone to bed entirely wiped, tired, too exhausted to remember he shouldn't be naked with Duke and Octavia.

He was still in that bed, sleeping more comfortably than he had in a week.

Unaware of the man hovering by the edge of the bed with a large tray full of breakfast foods in his hands.

[[ for those two and once again taken from Lucifer 5x10! ]]

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Her rage still didn't manage to wipe that smile off of God's face, no, but points for trying. "But I made your favorite," He said, pushing a fruit salad bowl with a drizzle and flakes of some kind on top of it closer towards her on the tray.

Lucifer groaned. "There's no point. He's never listened to me a day in my life, He's hardly going to start with you," he said, mirroring Duke.

Octavia looked like she was this close to smacking the bowl off the tray and onto the floor.

(Even though it looked good.)

(... Really good.)

"I don't care."

Duke had found pants and was tugging them on.

“Tavi,” he hissed quietly, thinking of what Amenadiel had told Dan. “Please don’t get smited.”

"Dad, please set down the tray and go back into the living room so we can get dressed properly," Lucifer said, a little flash of panic in his own eyes. "And I'll make coffee."

God looked away from the bundle of rage before Him and smiled at His son. "If that will make you feel more supported, son," he said, and set the tray down on the night stand.

“Feel more supported — is he serious?” Duke asked the universe.

Octavia still looked ready for violence.

Or at least swearing. But she did neither, and didn't even go with her petty urge to stay undressed out of pure spite.

She turned, slowly, to look for her clothes.

"It's a new thing He's trying," Lucifer said irritably, as Dad retreated to the living room. "Yesterday He tried to play catch with me on the job."

“He really has no idea how humans actually work, huh,” Duke mused. “I’d suggest making a run for it, but how do you run from God?”

"We can't even sleep in peace," Octavia hissed, tugging her underwear on. "There's no running."

"There's just-- making coffee," Lucifer muttered, tossing his legs over the edge of the bed so he, too, could put on trousers.

“What do you think he actually wants? If he were human I’d say he just found out he’s dying or something. Trying for one last chance before he’s worm food.”

Octavia had no insight to offer, because Octavia didn't want to have any insight to offer.

Bra, next. Now where was her shirt...?

"Well, it's Dad, so it's certainly not His impending mortality," Lucifer muttered, getting up off the bed. "Blah blah mysterious ways."

“That’s such a cop out. If he’s got reasons for all this he should just tell us.”

"Or at least you," Octavia said, finally looking at Lucifer. Holding her shirt in one hand.

Some of the anger seemed to have finally dimmed from her expression. For now.

Lucifer snorted bitterly.

"When does He ever tell me anything?" he said.

His hand came up, as if he wanted to touch one of them, or maybe both. Then he took off to the coffee machine.

Duke watched him go with a sigh.

“Think he’ll get less skittish again when his dad’s gone?”

"I really hope so," Octavia muttered, still looking off to where Lucifer had gone.

(She would have liked to touch him, too.)

"But that's assuming his dad goes." Optimism had become increasingly hard for her, over the last couple of days.

Down in the living room, Lucifer tried to get the coffee maker going. And, all right, succeeded, but it was hard to focus while Dad insisted on hovering over His shoulder.

"I do know how to do this properly, you know."

"Hm-hm."

Right. Of course. Lucifer grabbed a mug and filled it up and thrust it at Dad. "There. Ta-da. Coffee handled."

Edited 2021-07-13 16:39 (UTC)

God took the mug, and brought it to His mouth. He smelled it.

There was a wrinkle there, just between His eyebrows. It did not spell good news.

He took a sip of the coffee. Lowered the mug. Leaned over and spat out that mouthful of coffee into the sink.

"Hm."

Oh, what a great moment for Octavia to step out into the living room, finally fully dressed.

"... What was that?"

And Duke was not far behind. "So how does God take his coffee, anyway?"

"Apparently not the way I make it," Lucifer said flatly.

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