Masochism Tango | Alastor & Lucifer & Vox

chapter 8

"Somehow," breathed Alastor, his shoulder rising and falling as he looked at you with both endearment and hatred alike, "I don't think you just want a simple.. favor."

"Smart boy," you cooed, tugging on the chain. "You recall when I asked to study you whenever you chose to return to me?"

He didn't move, just catching his breaths. You smirked and continued.

"As part of our deal.." you began, tilting your head. "You will return to me once a month to allow me to study you in my dungeons." You cackled, tears brimming your eyes as you shook your head. "Oh, you're in for a world of pain, kid."

"And how would I..." Alastor said, looking up at you with big, doe eyes, still wearing his signature grin. "...earn my soul back, as you said?"

You were not an unintelligent woman; if anything, you were quite the opposite — you knew sadism, your curse, was like the evil twin of masochism, so you understood how the disorder worked — you can't just hide it. If you like delivering others pain, it's nearly impossible to hide it, and if you enjoy receiving pain, well, the same applies.

Your expression grew dark, voice teasing and taunting. "The day you don't enjoy the pain I give you, you can have your soul back."

༒︎

The ball ended soon thereafter, and with a few waves of your hands you and Lucifer completely cleaned the palace yourselves, without any use for servants. You used this time to mull over the evening with dull chatter.

"Did you enjoy your dance with Charlie?" you said, flicking your hand and with a wave of golden and pink light, the catering tables disappeared into thin air.

Lucifer nodded. "The Radio Demon?"

You smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you sauntered to pillar with golden ribbons wrapped around it for decor, forming enlarged, pearl-lined bows at the very top. "I had a little... chat with him."

"Hm?" Lucifer said, quirking a brow as he drew some velvet curtains closed.

"I didn't plan to tell you, but," you began, stopping as your placed your hands upon your hips, staring at the half-empty palace barren of its previous lavish decor. You mulled over the nights previous events in your mind, your heart quickening at the remembrance of the elusive Radio Demon weak and willing at your feet. "I made a deal with that Demon decades ago."

"Doesn't surprise me," Lucifer mumbled, flicking his hand and disposing of more decor. You smiled.

"Well he is the most powerful Overlord in existence, is he not?" you mused, leaning casually against a pillar and smoothing down your large gown, messing with the black lace adorning the expensive cloth. "He had to get that power from somewhere."

"Well, I know that," Lucifer scoffed, his back no longer turned to you as he faced you, his brows furrowed. "So you gave him power, ya-da, ya-da—" he murmured, flicking his hand in a brows gesture, "what else? What the hell do you get out of it?"

"Fun," you said, your gaze darkening as you angled your chin downwards.

Lucifer's face contorted into one of disgust, his nose scrunching and his eyes narrowing. He had halted everything he was doing at this point, scrutinizing your amused and sadistic expression with muted curiosity.

"Don't tell me..."

Your grin widened sinisterly.

"You're torturing him."

"Like I said," you said, still grinning and pushing yourself off the wall. "Fun."

Lucifer looked troubled, his eyes befalling the pristine flooring beneath him as he folded his hands behind his back, his brows stitching together. He appeared deep in thought. Your brows raised, smile ever-growing.

"Penny for your thoughts, Luci?"

"Why him?" said Lucifer, his face scrunching and his eyes burning with envy and distaste. He was completely and utterly repulsed, so much so he could not hide it with his stiff body language and unnerved countenance. "What's so different about the Radio Demon compared to others?"

He likes it, is what you replied inside of your head. He likes the pain and the suffering and the torture, and I want to see how far I can go until I break him.

You stood with Lucifer in silence for a moment, poring over each others words in hushed curiosity and bewilderment. He didn't understand you, he never has. He never comprehended how a person, more importantly someone who was born a seraphim angel, could find wonder and joy in harming other creatures. It has always been an acute fascination with you, and he wished that he could burrow himself into your mind, lose himself amongst the strings and ribbons of your thought processes and finally, finally get a grasp on what made you so depraved.

He would never understand it, but he would accept it. Because he loved you like the closest friend he's ever had and he always will.

"I haven't touched him yet," you said quietly, eyes half-lidded as you observed Lucifer's troubled expression in amusement. "I've yet to explore how far I can take him, but I assure you there's nothing more than that. A curiosity."

Lucifer found it sick and twisted and honesty absolutely befuddling that you genuinely has no ulterior motive for the infamous Radio Demon other than to torture him and test his limits — you were truly rhetorical epitome of mad, and he had determined long ago that it was futile to try and put himself in your shoes.

"Do you..." Lucifer said, twiddling his thumbs. His face flushed in humiliation, his body cringing as he managed out his next uttering: "...Are you... interested... in him?

"Oh, no, no, no, Luci," you laughed aloud after taking a moment to process his inquiry. You waved your hands around. "You've got me all wrong." You met his concerned gaze. "In all of the thousands of years you've known me, when have you ever witnessed me possess a lover? Love his not something achievable by a woman of my stature." You grinned, folding your arms under your bust. "Although lust is always an option. The only people I truly love is this family, and things will always remain that way."

Lucifer nodded quietly, his shoulder slumping as of a weight had been lifted off of him. You observed him curiously, wonder striking your soul at his unusual behavior. Why did he care? What did it matter to him that you wanted to study Alastor? What did it matter if you were romantically interested in the Radio Demon? He had never cared about your romantic or sexual interactions with other Demons before, so why now?

You thought of the other night, and your smile slowly faded. You recalling as he came into your room, looking defeated in lost, so certain he was a terrible father — you recalled the comfort and safety and adoration you experienced as the fallen angel curled up into your warm body, as you embraced him...

There would be nothing between you and Lucifer so long as he still pined over his absentee wife, so long as you were the person you were — the murderer, the temptress, the abuser... You were no woman for any man to love, much less someone as good as Lucifer.

You would only ever be family. That's all you saw, that's all he saw. He was just being protective.

"Just wanted to check and make sure," Lucifer said, his voice devoid of any plausible emotion as he turned his back to you and continued to fiddle with the decor, but he took his time with making the ribbons and curtains and tablecloths disappear in waves of sparkling golden light — you acknowledged his staggered behavior and melted into the shadows behind you, deciding to give him some space. He had been in a bad headspace lately and probably just needed some time to think.

With all of the stress of the Post-Extermination Day Ball, seeing his daughter again, seeing his daughter with the fucking Radio Demon, hearing about your enigmatic deal with him, and with the knowledge that Alastor would soon within the next month he visiting the palace for your depraved enjoyment you found in exploratory torture, you could understand if he needed some time to collect himself. Being the King of Hell with a missing wife, hotel manager daughter, and a fucked-up-in-the-head right-hand woman to the throne wasn't very easy on him.

You smiled as you appeared within the shadows of your room, unzipping your dress. You looked forward to the days to come, and like an itchiness spreading all over your body, you imagined Alastor's delectable screams of agony.