( the first feat is distance and luci clears it in moments, kicking off his sandals to speed up the process, footsteps pattering on the packed dirt path. there's not much excitement in his life these days, so even the illusion of some intrigue is rewarding — he's grinning, ear to ear and with too many sharp teeth occupying a mouth that morphs from human to reptile under duress, but he's happy for the adrenaline rush that comes from running, hunting, being hunted. he can't be sure how danny intends to play, and the novelty of an unseen foe, an enemy untested, is as exciting as all the rest.
he stops after awhile, lost in the maze, listening closely for the sounds of danny's feet striking the earth. nothing. so — not a chase, then, which is smart enough to have a paternal fondness bloom in his chest, the seeds all planted there from danny's hands. human with a death wish, he thinks with a sigh. silly silly lily, with too many fingers in too many pies. if sound can't be relied on, and sight is obviously not a choice, luci instead shuts his eyes and takes a deep inhale, filling up his lungs, scenting the air. underneath the scent of wet earth and clipped foliage, there sits exactly what danny intended he find — the metallic twang of fresh blood, ripe as fat, juicy apples. instinctively, luci moves towards it, mouth watering. it doesn't mean he doesn't know it's a trap, it just means it's an alluring one, from an intelligent predator. all the more intrigue in the hunt.
unfortunately for danny, the game is set up against him. lucifer doesn't value an occasional loss, but he knows they're inevitable — he's as much a sore loser as one can expect from the golden boy child of god, destined to fall and keep falling for all of eternity. he therefore doesn't hold any moral high ground about cheating, doesn't mind being perceived as a snake. he calls for the golden blood inside of danny, staining his the usual red with little glimmering flecks of gold — angel blood, divisible from the human, forced up his throat and out his nose, choking him on it. the gilt sheen leftover from making out with a pollen rich lily. a distraction, sonic location, ah, there he is. luci follows the breadcrumb blood, approaches the dead end, and grins. game over, or game on?
under the hedge, a serpentine tail snags a fierce grip around his ankle, tugging danny under and back to this side. lucifer looks different — less daddy, more devil, the cross section between a black and red dragon, and the storybook picture of a devil, all fluorescent skin and sharp horns. danny's head cracks against the dirt floor, concussed, stun your enemy. luci in his oversized body takes a seat on danny's chest, shins pressing against his biceps to keep his arms pinned to the ground. a taloned, scaled hand grips his hair holding him in place, while luci's opposite hand fingers open the sheath of his cock, helping it out to full length. )
Devil takes the pot.
( he decides. i win. as expected. his cock is as strange as the rest of him, oddly colored, weirdly formed, glowing red hot with steam. he strokes himself, squeezes a pearly drop of burning devil cum onto danny's pink mouth — he looks like a baroque painting, soft, sad eyes, pretty little cherubic features, painted with gold and pearls. )
cw: questionable consent
he stops after awhile, lost in the maze, listening closely for the sounds of danny's feet striking the earth. nothing. so — not a chase, then, which is smart enough to have a paternal fondness bloom in his chest, the seeds all planted there from danny's hands. human with a death wish, he thinks with a sigh. silly silly lily, with too many fingers in too many pies. if sound can't be relied on, and sight is obviously not a choice, luci instead shuts his eyes and takes a deep inhale, filling up his lungs, scenting the air. underneath the scent of wet earth and clipped foliage, there sits exactly what danny intended he find — the metallic twang of fresh blood, ripe as fat, juicy apples. instinctively, luci moves towards it, mouth watering. it doesn't mean he doesn't know it's a trap, it just means it's an alluring one, from an intelligent predator. all the more intrigue in the hunt.
unfortunately for danny, the game is set up against him. lucifer doesn't value an occasional loss, but he knows they're inevitable — he's as much a sore loser as one can expect from the golden boy child of god, destined to fall and keep falling for all of eternity. he therefore doesn't hold any moral high ground about cheating, doesn't mind being perceived as a snake. he calls for the golden blood inside of danny, staining his the usual red with little glimmering flecks of gold — angel blood, divisible from the human, forced up his throat and out his nose, choking him on it. the gilt sheen leftover from making out with a pollen rich lily. a distraction, sonic location, ah, there he is. luci follows the breadcrumb blood, approaches the dead end, and grins. game over, or game on?
under the hedge, a serpentine tail snags a fierce grip around his ankle, tugging danny under and back to this side. lucifer looks different — less daddy, more devil, the cross section between a black and red dragon, and the storybook picture of a devil, all fluorescent skin and sharp horns. danny's head cracks against the dirt floor, concussed, stun your enemy. luci in his oversized body takes a seat on danny's chest, shins pressing against his biceps to keep his arms pinned to the ground. a taloned, scaled hand grips his hair holding him in place, while luci's opposite hand fingers open the sheath of his cock, helping it out to full length. )
Devil takes the pot.
( he decides. i win. as expected. his cock is as strange as the rest of him, oddly colored, weirdly formed, glowing red hot with steam. he strokes himself, squeezes a pearly drop of burning devil cum onto danny's pink mouth — he looks like a baroque painting, soft, sad eyes, pretty little cherubic features, painted with gold and pearls. )