Strange Addictions

"Oh, look who it is. My disgusting, sociopathic, abusive rapist of a father."

Lucifer had finally made his appearance, several hours after Sabrina caught him with Zelda. He found her lounging in her usual chair by the fireplace, legs draped over the arm and a half-full glass of wine in her hand, two empty bottles and another nearly depleted beside her. She had gotten through a pretty impressive amount, she had to admit.

She took another sip for strength before commencing with her interrogation.

"Finished taking advantage of my aunt?"

She forced herself to choke out the word "aunt". It hurt to even think of Zelda at the moment...or Hilda, for that matter. Both had tried to visit her. First Zelda, and then Hilda, and then Zelda again. They had been turned away by Lamia each time on her orders. She'd had to listen to them desperately begging her through the door to let them in, before the guards had eventually escorted them away.

She couldn't face them right now. She just couldn't.

Lucifer was as inconsiderate of the pain he had caused as one would expect. She found it hard to fathom that he was adult here from the way he rolled his eyes at her, like a bratty child being confronted over his bad behaviour.

"Taking "advantage" of? Really now, she was the one who was all over me. I was only humoring her. But nothing happened between us in the end...again. You saw to that."

Despite his apparent irritation, the corners of his mouth twitched as though he were stifling a smirk. It was enough to confirm Sabrina's suspicion- that the incident in the church had been a total set up on his part and Aunt Zee had been his unwitting pawn.

Regret stabbed at her conscience again, not even the huge amount of alcohol she had consumed enough to dull the pain.

Oh Auntie, why did I say those things to you? You were right. It was exactly what he wanted. She was a sorry excuse for a niece...and Lucifer was an absolutely miserable excuse of a father.

Making no effort to hide her utter contempt, she snarled at him. "OK, so you've been busy fucking all the other witches in the coven then. Ready to blame me and say it's all my fault because I won't put out for you? I mean, you're a man. You can't help it! It's totes my queenly responsibility to make sure you don't go round forcing yourself on women-"

"For Hell's sake, Sabrina."

Lucifer scoffed dismissively, removing his (unusually conservative) red velvet jacket and hanging it on her otherwise empty coat rack.

"You do relish wallowing in your own self-induced melodrama. If you want to know where I have been all afternoon then I would have you know I was busy ruling Hell. I don't have unlimited free time like you do. I have all the kingdoms of the world to run, demons to direct, angels to destroy, deals to collect on. The Devil's work is never done. And while I enjoy indulging in the pleasures of the flesh when I get the opportunity, I prefer my conquests be willing. But I have yet to lay a hand on any of the witches of this Academy, as much as they would love it if I did."

He faced her again, and she saw his insufferable smile had resurfaced. "Including, as you now know, your own precious auntie." He couldn't have sounded more triumphant if he tried.

As he dared to bring up Zelda, a fury hot enough to make the fires of Hell seem tepid consumed Sabrina...along with a startling realization. She had been speculating on what his exact motivation was for doing the sick, twisted thing he had and had produced many different possibilities, certain at least one if not all of them were correct.

He had done it to drive a wedge between her and her aunties. To punish her for her continued refusal to submit to his rule, to his dubious affections. Possibly even because, in his arrogance, he thought seeing him with Zelda might even cause her to feel jealous?

But perhaps she had been overthinking things. Perhaps his motivations weren't anywhere near as complex as any of those. No...he had simply done it to prove a point, in all his pettiness. He had wanted to prove to her that Zelda was madly in love with him, and all her attempts to shield her niece from him were out of envy rather than protective maternal instincts. And now he thought he had successfully done so.

In reality he hadn't proven shit.

"You just don't get it, do you? Get it into your thick skull now! Zelda. Doesn't. Want. You. She hates you! And no, she doesn't hate you because you've spurned her or whatever other narcissistic way you want to spin this! She hates you because I mean way more to her than your stupid self does! That was why she went along with you earlier, because she was terrified of what you'd do to me or the rest of the coven if she rejected you, because you're an evil monster who can't take no for an answer!"

She was screaming at him, spit flying from her mouth.

Lucifer's smile vanished, replaced with something of genuine surprise. He hadn't been expecting her to still defend Zelda after what he had tricked her into doing. He had grossly underestimated the bond she shared with her aunt, and now it was he himself who had become the sole target of her wrath.

That he even had the nerve to be shocked just made Sabrina even more angry. She doubled her volume.

"She chose me over you! She sees you for what you are now; a disgusting, sociopathic, abusive rapist! She'll never love you and neither will I! NEVER!"

She was sure she must be red in the face from screeching at the top of her lungs. Her impressive pitch would have made any soprano jealous. It was a small wonder her wine glass hadn't shattered actually. She wanted to shriek every name in the book at him, but was overcome by a sudden dizziness...that may or may not have had something to do with the empty wine bottles next to her.

Too exhausted to shout any more, she panted while glaring at him through bloodshot eyes.

Lucifer quickly regained his composure. The look he gave her was almost pitying.

"Sabrina...you are drunk."

That this accurate but irrelevant statement was all he could think to say after being given such a huge piece of her mind was the last straw. With a small jerk of her wrist, she threw her wine at him.

She never would have dared to do anything so rash had she been sober, lest she provoke his wrath. But Lucifer's expression barely changed as the red liquid dripped down his face and off his nose. He simply raised a brow at her, likely questioning her sanity.

Now she needed a refill. "That must be the most truthful thing you've ever said to me," she said as snidely as she could, reaching for her current wine bottle...only for it to disappear from her grasp.

She looked back at Lucifer to see he was already miraculously dry, and holding the bottle.

"Hey!"

Ignoring her protest, he gave it an investigative shake, the small amount of wine that remained sloshing around. His eyes then moved back to the two empty wine bottles beside Sabrina, narrowing. "How much have you had to drink? I told Lamia to dilute whatever she gives you and yet-"

"You told her to WHAT?" Sabrina's voice rose a couple of octaves in her outrage, threatening to crack under the strain. She had noticed she needed more to get drunk than she used to, despite her mortality, but had assumed it was because she had built up a tolerance...

"Dilute the alcohol content in whatever beverages you have so your sudden drinking problem and your pitifully low mortal threshold don't end up killing you," said Lucifer, as casually as though tampering with his daughter's drinks in secret was a completely normal, rational thing to do.

He looked her over, taking in her indignant rage.

Then with a sigh, he pulled up a chair and sat himself down beside her, shaking his head sadly.

"Sabrina, this needs to stop."

Sure he was speaking in jest, Sabrina let out a strained laugh. But Lucifer didn't crack so much as a smile. He continued to frown at her with a weird mixture of concern and admonishment she had never once expected to see on his selfish, smug face.

Wow, he's serious.

"Excuse me? You, of all people, are telling me off for drinking too much? You're the fucking Devil. The embodiment of sin and debauchery!" she reminded him, with another snort. As though he needed it.

Lucifer sat back in his armchair as proudly as though it were his throne, but his face still carried that foreign expression.

"Indeed, I am. I have lured countless mortals down the same path you're trying to tread. Impressionable souls, desperate to escape from their harsh daily reality through any means they can. Drink, the cards, sexual perversions...all manner of thrill-seeking pursuits that mortals have a low tolerance for. Their unhealthy addictions end up sucking them into a spiral of self-destruction. I revel in the misery and chaos it sows into their lives and the lives of those around them. They dig themselves deeper and deeper into their own graves, and by the time their soul departs this world- usually prematurely- they are far too tarnished to be of any use to my father. And so Hell gains another soul while the False God loses another toy."

He displayed not the slightest shred of empathy or remorse for his unfortunate victims.

A shiver went up Sabrina's spine as she mulled over the connotation of his words. Did he really have so much influence over mortals and their tendency to sin as he claimed? She was so used to seeing him bullying all the demons and witches who served him that it was easy to forget his interactions with mortals were usually far more subtle. He had been whispering in the ears of men since the dawn of time, injecting them with poisonous thoughts and convincing them they were their own.

She thought of Harvey's dad; of the unpleasant, evil-tempered man his alcohol addiction had made of him, how both his sons had lived in fear of due to his frequent, drunken rages, and her resentment towards Lucifer increased. Here was a man- being- who had corrupted countless mortals and consigned them to the worst possible fate, out of a petty need to get back at some guy in the sky. Yet he had the audacity to lecture her on her own behaviour...even as he tried to make her more like him.

Not wanting to look upon the monster who called himself her father, Sabrina fixed her attention on the fire in the brazier. Its flames were an indistinguishable whirl of red and orange in her intoxicated state; earthly fire, warm, cheery and inviting. So unlike the ghostly blue flames of the underworld, which, by the Dark Lord's own design, all mortals would be consigned to. He had said it himself during their very first encounter.

Your flesh is mortal. And in the end, all mortal flesh must burn.

"I'm a mortal too, remember? My blood is tainted by my mother's line. You shouldn't care what happens to me," she distantly heard herself say, sounding far more bitter than she would have liked.

She stared resolutely into the fire, refusing to look at Lucifer, only to find her chair turning to face where he sat. His eyes bored into hers, the concern in them almost disconcerting.

"You are also my daughter. I care for your well-being, much as you refuse to believe it. I've no complaints over you engaging in some healthy hedonism; in fact I encourage it. But your current, excessive alcohol consumption is nothing short of self-harm. As Queen of Hell, you should be valuing yourself more than this."

Sabrina was flabbergasted by his never-ending audacity.

"You don't get to play the concerned parent now, Lucifer. You forfeited that right long ago," she retorted.

Where was all this concern for my well-being when you raped me? When you threatened the lives of everyone I loved? When you used me as a chess piece in your plot for world domination? were some of the questions she didn't dare add.

Even so, she apparently hit a nerve. Lucifer stood up from his chair with startling abruptness, towering over her with a deep scowl etched into his features.

"Oh, but isn't that the beauty of being a parent? I make the rules and I decide the rights. And so I shall give you a warning now. If you don't cease this reckless behaviour then I will be taking away your right to drink anything alcoholic. Act like a child and I'll treat you like one."

Gone was the soft concern, replaced with a sharp sternness that reminded Sabrina inexplicably of how her aunties would get whenever she played up.

That reminder was all she needed to lose what remained of her temper.

With a scream of purest rage, she leaped up from her own seat and snatched one of the empty wine bottles beside her, hurling it with as much force as she could at Lucifer's head. It halted in mid-air before it could hit its mark, dropping to the floor and shattering to pieces at their feet.

Undeterred, Sabrina didn't skip a beat as she proceeded to berate him.

"Fuck you. Like you haven't already taken everything else away from me- my friends, my family, my freedom! You keep me locked up in here like a prisoner! I have, as you so aptly said yourself, "unlimited free time," and nothing to do with it except drink! Now you want to deny me that too? It's the only way I can even function!"

Her voice finally cracked, her throat hoarse from the amount of shouting she had done. And thanks to Lucifer, she didn't even have a drink any more.

He barely reacted to her rant, his frown remaining in place...yet his eyes softened slightly again.

This only pissed her off even more. The Dark Lord had no right to "worry" about her, to be "concerned", or pretend he was looking out for her own best interests! That was what real parents did; what real family did. What her aunties had done before he burned her bridges with them...just so he could convince himself he was the victor in a stupid argument. But he, he didn't care about her. He didn't love her as a father should, or treat her as his daughter unless it suited him.

All this facade of caring about her well-being boiled down to one aim. The same one as always.

To control her.

"What do you really want with me? You said I would be your queen! You said you would give me power! You said I'd be able to make a difference like I had always wanted to! You said you never wanted to control me! Liar, liar, liar!"

She had to hold back the childish urge to stomp her foot with every scream of "liar". He wasn't taking her seriously as it was. Curiously enough, none of the tears that had been so abundant lately were flowing now...possibly because she had none left to shed.

"But what did I expect? You're the Father of Lies. It's not like you would ever keep your word even to your own daughter. I'm not your equal. I'm just your doll," she concluded, heavy with despair. Her expectations had been zero but she was still disappointed in him.

"Sabrina." Lucifer gripped her shoulders, giving her a small but firm shake. "Sabrina, how many of these tantrums are you going to throw? And how many times am I going to need to explain everything to you?"

Sabrina stared lifelessly at the floor, arms folded and lips pursed in a pout. She had no interest in hearing any of his so-called "explanations". She wasn't in the mood to listen to any more of his honey-coated lies and false promises. She would learn from Lilith's mistake. And her own.

Displeased by her sullenness, Lucifer shook her again; harder this time, his voice sharply raised.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!"

A little frightened by his commanding tone, Sabrina reluctantly lifted her eyes to meet his blazing green gaze...which through her blurred vision seemed even brighter than usual.

Appeased, he resumed the softer approach as though he hadn't just snapped at her. "For starters, let me assure you that you're no prisoner. You've seen how I treat my prisoners. I'm sure you have no desire to join Caliban in the witches cells...as much as he would undoubtedly appreciate your company."

Redundant. She knew very well that her gilded cage was a lot more liveable than the witches cells, but that didn't change what it was.

"I'm not allowed to leave. Or see anyone."

"Whoever told you that?"

His question was unexpected. Sabrina blinked at him, more than a little confused. Technically, no one had but...

"Yes, I would prefer you remained inside the Academy walls. There are still missionaries and archangels at large, and you are vulnerable right now. Until our enemies are fully wiped from the face of the Earth, I need you to remain here under my protection. But it isn't as though I'm keeping you under lock and key. You are free to roam the building and mingle with the other students if you wish."

"But the guards-"

"Are there for your own security. To keep others out, not keep you in. I promise they won't stop you if you try to leave this room."

More lies. There was no way in Heaven she had been free to just walk out this entire time. It was true no one had ever implicitly said she couldn't...but no one had said she could either. Surely Lamia or at least Lilith would have seen fit to tell her she wasn't a prisoner?

She raked her memory as much as she was able to in her tipsy state, trying to remember any time where either of them had so much as hinted at the possibility of her leaving the confines of her room, but nope. She'd only ever been able to go out while escorted by them or the Dark Lord, never alone and never for anything other than a particular occasion.

There was no doubt in her mind that they had received detailed orders from him, and they included keeping her on a tight leash.

She wanted to call him out on his obvious BS, but he was moving on to contest her next qualm before she had the chance to so much as open her mouth.

"And no, Sabrina. You are not a doll, even if you look the part perfectly. You are my queen. I never once lied to you. I want to give you power. I want to give you dominion over mortals and witches, angels and demons alike. I want to give you everything your heart desires and more. And I shall. But at the moment, I cannot."

Sabrina paused, biting back whatever retort she had been about to give.

"Why not?"

"I can't trust you." Lucifer looked almost regretful, in a way that seemed reminiscent of Nick's sad puppy-dog face earlier. Anyone who didn't know who he was might have been fooled by it, but she was no such person.

A new wave of indignity came over her. That he would even think to suggest his trust was something she needed to earn. He was the one who had wronged her! If anything, it should be up to him to her trust.

"What do you mean, you can't trust me?" she demanded, in what was meant to be a haughty tone that ended up coming out as a whine. With a heavy sigh, Lucifer released his grasp on her arms and took to pacing before the fire in apparent agitation.

"I can't trust you, Sabrina. How can I, when you still disobey me at every turn? You have such great potential yet you squander it. You reject every measure of love I show you. You refuse to partake in even your easiest duty as my consort. And on your very first outing as queen, you decide to defy me in front of all our followers."

He ran a hand through his dark chestnut hair, shooting her a reproachful look. "I enjoy your wilfulness, truly I do...up to a point. But you still refuse to acknowledge your place. Until you do, I'm afraid it will be below me. Only once you have submitted yourself to me fully can I afford to make you my equal."

Sabrina always marvelled at how obtuse Lucifer could be for such an ancient and powerful being. She had to wonder if his ignorance was born from an unwillingness or inability to understand.

From his inference that being raped was "easy", to his belief that all the silly little gifts and head pats he gave her to were somehow adequate displays of "love", to the utter absurdity of his last sentence. If she were in a clearer state of mind then she would laugh in his face. She would counter every stupid argument he was trying to make until even he and his forked silver-tongue had no leg- or hoof- to stand on.

But right now, she was so very weary. Weary of arguing with everyone, weary of fighting him, weary of being awake when she was so sick and dizzy from the vast quantity of diluted alcohol she had consumed, and debating him further was the last thing she felt like doing. So maybe he did actually have a point about the drinking.

In the end all she could say was, "I don't think you understand what equality means."

"There is no such thing as equality, little one. There never was. There is only-"

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Your desire. Save it for someone who gives a fuck, why don't you?" she muttered under her breath, pressing her hand to her temple as the whole room spun around her.

Satan, how much did I drink? She really did need to be more careful. She didn't want to end up like Nick.

Lucifer clicked his tongue at her poor language. "Such profanity. What a foul tongue you've gained, my little devil." But his eyes sparkled with wane amusement, his entire demeanor seemingly relaxed. He appeared to have picked up on the fact that she was no longer making a true effort to fight him.

Snarky jabs were all she had left in her. "First you scold me for drinking and now you're scolding me for swearing? At this rate, you're starting to sound like one of the False God's-" Her jibe was cut off when Lucifer caught hold of her again, pulling her in against him.

"Ah, ah. I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, daughter," he hissed in her ear. She stiffened in his hold, intimidated until he pulled back and she saw his playful expression. As he studied her properly- noticing her drooping, puffy eyelids and how unsteady she was on her feet- he tsked again. "Time for bed, I think."

Without an ounce of effort, he was scooping Sabrina into his strong arms and carrying her over to the gigantic canopied bed on the far side of the room.

As she realized where he was taking her, all the memories of their first night together came rushing back to her and she was hit by a wave of intense panic. Her chest seized up and her heart pounded hard against her ribcage, her head becoming so light she thought she might faint, so immense was the terror she suddenly felt.

"No!" She thrashed about madly, desperate to free herself from his oppressive clutches. He was going to hurt her again, she knew it, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Lucifer hushed her, one arm tightening around her while his other hand stroked her hair.

"Peace, child. I only wish to put you to bed so you can sleep off all that alcohol. Even with the measures Lamia's taken, you seem rather intoxicated." He uttered these words of reassurance in a low murmur as he caressed her, each magic-infused stroke sending endorphins to calm her. Her heartbeat steadied and the tightness in her chest loosened, the worst of her anxiety eased but her mind continuing to race with worry.

She remained limp in his arms as he laid her down on the mattress, nervously watching him while he pulled the covers over her, up to her chin. He heaved a sigh when he caught her wary eye.

"Will you stop looking at me like a frightened rabbit? Delicious as you are, I am not going to eat you."

Sabrina averted her gaze. There was no way she was about to point out that she was still fully-dressed, but he soon remembered. The smallest flick of his hand and both her gown and accessories were gone, replaced by a very skimpy nightgown which was thankfully hidden under the covers.

It was rather shocking he hadn't insisted on her changing her clothes manually. Or him doing it for her.

Lucifer chuckled at her questioning expression, seeming to read her mind. "See, I can be a gentleman when I want."

Sabrina thought he was setting the bar pretty low for gentlemanly behaviour...then again, he was displaying remarkable restraint by his own standards. She hoped this was the part where he would go away and leave her to sleep. She was dismayed when he instead sat down next to her on the bed, resuming his stroking of her hair in what seemed like a perverse mockery of the way in which Aunt Hilda (or more occasionally Zelda) would tuck her into bed at night.

Even if he intended for his touch to be fatherly now, it had been forever tainted.

It was something he didn't seem to be able to comprehend. She might have been able to forget that he was her father if he would only let her. It wasn't as though he had raised her, after all. He had never been there for her while she was growing up. He had left all the hard work to her aunties and Ambrose, waiting until now to enter her life. Until she was a girl of sixteen, with the fresh-faced innocence of a child but the body of a young woman...and the raging hormones of a teenager. The perfect specimen for him to mould into his docile, submissive lover, in his own misogynistic mind.

But he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He clung to the title of father despite having done nothing to earn it, using it as an excuse to infantilize her. He had never truly loved or cared for anyone before, and his attempt at feigning it now fell pitifully flat.

But what did he truly want out of her? A consort, to rule beside him and help him carry out his will, as something of an equal? Or a concubine, like Lilith, for him to debase and degrade as he desired? Or a daughter, to cherish and coddle like he never had been? All were vastly different roles for a witch to fulfil, and he couldn't decide which one he wanted her to be.

So he would force her to be all of them.

Faintly nauseous for reasons that probably had nothing to do with alcohol, she turned away from him. Eyes closed in exhaustion, she harbored the foolish hope that he would get the message and leave her alone.

He did not.

His hand paused in her hair, long fingers entwined in her silvery curls. Then he gave one of the white ringlets a sharp tug.

"Ow!" He hadn't pulled hard enough to hurt her but that didn't stop her from being annoyed. He was the one who had insisted on putting her to bed and now he wouldn't even let her rest!

"Don't fall asleep on me yet, daughter. There's still something else I need to discuss with you."

What now?

This had better not be about sex. Or Aunt Zelda. Suppressing a groan, she rolled over to face him again, giving him her undivided albeit grudging attention.

"The first just so happens to tie in nicely with what we discussed just now. I shall be leaving for Italy the day after tomorrow. I've yet to dishonor the witches of Europe with my presence and they are long due a visit. As are the False God's clergy." Lucifer snickered darkly, still trailing his fingers through Sabrina's curls. She tensed at his implication of bloodshed, discomfort which went unnoticed by him.

"Once they have been...dealt with, I will address my followers at the Vatican, much how I did with the covens yesterday. I had only been planning on going for one day and one night. But if you were to accompany me and stand by my side..."

Stunned, she stared up at him, and he smiled down at her. "...The witches would be doubly dishonored. Then we could stay for a few more days, make a trip out of it. You've never even left this cultureless country, have you? The entire world is yours now, little one. I want to show it to you. I can think of no better place to start than Rome. There's a great deal of culture to be found there. Foolish as the False God's sheep may be, they have produced some magnificent works of art in his name. As did the pagans, as savage as they were. Of course, many of the artists were more influenced by me than they would have liked to admit."

It was surreal to see him speaking with such enthusiasm about a subject other than the suffering and subjugation of others. Refreshing even. She'd almost forgotten that in addition to granting the witches their powers, the Dark Lord was hailed as the source of their creativity. Unlike the dour and puritanical False God who detested practically everything, Lucifer placed no boundaries on their artistic expression. Anything went.

And he did make a good point. Not only had she never left the US before (despite being the only one out of her friend group to own a passport), she had never even left her home state of New England. It wasn't like the Spellmans couldn't afford to go on vacation- they came from old money and their mortuary was modestly successful- but it just wouldn't have been fair.

When Sabrina was six, Aunt Hilda had raised the possibility of taking her to Disney World; a plan that managed to earn even Aunt Zelda's approval ("Walt Disney was a very notable ally to the Church of Night"). Little Sabrina had been giddy with excitement up until Hilda gently explained to her that Cousin Ambrose wouldn't be able to come with them. The news was met with much screeching, many tears, and the fervent declaration that if they couldn't all go then she didn't want to go at all. So they hadn't.

The closest she ever got to vacations were occasional shopping trips to Riverdale, and the even more occasional day trip to Boston. She had looked forward to learning long-distance teleportation so she could finally venture abroad and be back in time for dinner, but had never gotten the chance to progress to that level.

I would have been able to do it with my Herald of Hell powers, she realized sadly. But of course, she'd had so much on her mind after the whole debacle started that the thought of testing her teleportation abilities hadn't even occurred to her. Saving the coven from Blackwood, then saving the world from Lucifer, had been her main priorities. Yet she had failed at both.

Here she was, having been under virtual house arrest for over a week, with the tantalizing prospect of a brief excursion being dangled before her. But if it was going to be at the cost of presenting herself as his little lapdog to all the witches of Italy...she wasn't sure it was worth it.

She chewed her lip, torn over what to say. "I don't know..."

"You needn't decide now. Sleep on it and give me your answer tomorrow. Hopefully you'll be sober by then." Another chuckle. "I won't force you to come if you don't want to. But I would very much love it if you did. And maybe that would demonstrate to me how truly dedicated you are to embracing your role as my queen."

Oh, so there was that too. She almost had to admire the subtle use of blackmail in his supposedly generous offer. If this was her big opportunity- and possibly her only opportunity- to prove herself, then it wasn't really much of a choice at all.

She was still divided on what she should do. Accept his offer and sacrifice all her moral integrity in the hopes that she might be granted some measure of authority in return? Or decline and likely continue having all her freedom and basic rights stripped away?

For once, he was right. She was going to need to sober up before she gave him her answer.

"OK, I'll think about it. See you tomorrow," she said to him, in unquestionable dismissal. She pointedly shut her eyes again, waiting for him to either get up and leave, or teleport away with one of his signature thunder claps.

After half a minute of hearing nothing, she opened them to see he was still beside her, watching her intently.

"What?"

He's not planning on staying there until I fall asleep, is he? His belated attempt at showing fatherly affection was awkward enough as it was, but this was bordering on desperate.

Yet the wolfish grin he answered with was anything but fatherly. "Aren't you going to give me a kiss goodnight, daughter?" he crooned, leaned in closer to her, his warm breath tickling her skin.

She really should have seen that one coming. Knowing she should be relieved a kiss was all he wanted and that he wouldn't leave her alone until he got it, Sabrina relented. She propped herself up on her elbows and placed a light peck on his lips, hoping it would at least be enough to satisfy him.

It was not.

"Really, you call that a kiss?" was Lucifer's scathing reply after she pulled away. He was on top of her in an instant, pinning her wrists on either side of her and forcing his lips against hers once more. His forked tongue pushed its way inside, exploring every crevice of her mouth. She didn't bother fighting him, partially because she knew it was a waste of time and partially because...because reasons she really didn't want to admit to.

She didn't know which possibility disturbed her more; that some sick part of her could actually enjoy being made out with by her own father, or that she had just become so resigned to his forceful attentions that she no longer had it in her to resist?

His desire was making her more drunk than any amount of drink ever could, his touch intoxicating. She was blush-faced and breathless by the time he released her, her dazed state amplified tenfold. She sank back into her soft pillows, wishing she could hide herself under them. But there was no hiding from the Dark Lord...especially not when he had made you his strange obsession, and you were in his bed and at his mercy.

Yet there was no longer anything predatory in his smile. Only deceptively innocent fondness as he tucked the covers around her again. "There, much better. Goodnight, my little queen."

Sabrina didn't say anything, too flustered to speak or even think clearly. Until she realized he was waiting for her to reply.

"Oh...goodnight," she hastily babbled, face as hot as the Inferno. When he still didn't move, continuing to look at her expectantly, she tried again. "Goodnight, Dark Lord?" That just sounded plain ridiculous. Nor was it the answer he was looking for either, judging from his expression.

Oh. So this was the game he was going to play. He was really stepping into his facade.

"Goodnight...Father," she whispered, feeling like a traitor to her aunties and her real father, as well as everything that was good and decent in the world.

"Hmm..." Lucifer still seemed vaguely dissatisfied. Sabrina had a mortifying suspicion as to what he really wanted her to call him...and Hell would freeze over before she ever indulged him on it. Despite what he had reduced her to, she had some pride left.

But for now, he apparently decided he would settle for Father.

It was with another burning kiss upon her forehead that he finally left her, and his parting words lingered in the air like a threat as opposed to the goodbye that they were.

"Until tomorrow, my darling daughter..."

OK...so that ended up being a weird mix of creepy and fluffy (and downright silly). I can't believe darkfluff isn't a thing.

I just want to make on thing clear, in case anyone gets the wrong impression regarding Lucifer's speech about mortal addictions. I don't think having an addiction makes anyone a bad or weak person. I certainly don't think it's worthy of landing someone in hell (nothing like hell should even exist anyway). But in the CAOS universe, the laws on damnation seem...really unfair. We see Jesse Putnam being tormented in Hell and are never given a reason for him being down there, but I can assume it's either because a) he's gay b) he was possessed by Apophis while alive. Neither of those things are his fault or in any way deserving of punishment, let alone for all eternity. We also see children in Hell despite them being too young to be held accountable for any crimes committed in life. I'll stop there before I end up going into a huge rant on everything wrong with organized religion. Needless to say, either the False God isn't as powerful as he's supposed to be or he's just as much of a jerk as Lucifer (just like he said in the play lol)

I feel a bit lazy for only making this chapter one scene. There was originally going to be another but I decided it would be better to upload a slightly shorter chapter than usual rather than try to make it two scenes & end up losing all motivation because of how long it is. I'm trying to update at least monthly from now on! But no promises 😅