@celestialsara said: Lucifer prompt. Lucifer/Chloe/Trixie. It’s bring your parent to school day. Trixie schemes to get Lucifer to come. The rest is up to you. “This is my future step dad. He’s the Devil.”
(I swapped in Maze for reasons, but yes)
As he approaches the handsome brown-brick building, on the walk lined with palm trees and thronged with screaming miniature humans who whiz about at exactly the right height to catch an unprepared visitor in the gentleman bits, Lucifer Morningstar performs the sort of “oh goodness gracious how did I get here” panicked mental review normally reserved for waking up in jail, under a bridge, or next to your best friend’s significant other while naked. It is “Bring Your Parent To School Day” at young Beatrice’s educational establishment, and due to a combination of Daniel being called on a last-minute case, the detective being buried under paperwork and pulling the “please do me a favor” face that Lucifer can’t refuse, and Lucifer himself being very keen to get out of the house away from Amenadiel, who is brooding on the unfairness of the wing restoration (Lucifer did not bloody ask for it, believe him), the “parents” Trixie is bringing for the nice wholesome event are the Lord of Hell and his right-hand demon. Maze is clearly enjoying this, blast her.
So, for that matter, is Trixie. She is swinging off their hands, happy as a clam, as they enter the school premises, Lucifer wonders if he can bolt without knocking over too many of the rugrats, and Maze actually waves at one of Trixie’s classmates’ mothers. Not to mention, when Lucifer keeps fidgeting, she swats him. “Hey. You’re supposed to be her dad. Look more like Dan.”
“No thank you.” One time through embracing his inner douche was enough. “And I am obviously not her father, I am – “
At that moment, one of Trixie’s teachers emerges, spots them, and does a double take, as neither of the conniving little minx’s present parental figures resemble the ones who must have attended previous PTA meetings. “Beatrice? Who have you brought with you today, honey?”
“This is Maze,” Trixie informs her. “She’s like my other mom, except she’s a bounty hunter and has a scary face. And this is Lucifer. He’s like my other dad, but sillier. And he’s the Devil.”
This poor woman, who teaches fourth-grade art class and probably bakes cookies on the weekend, blinks hard. “Uh…. where exactly is your mom?”
“She’s at work. But she made Lucifer come, because they’re, you know.” Trixie lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Together, like adults. And Maze made him come too. I promise he’ll behave.”
“I beg your pardon, child, I don’t – ”
“Yeah,” Maze says, cracking her gum with a snap. “I’ll make sure he does. For the record, Chloe’s kind of like our shared wife, but honestly, more like my wife, because I’m the one who actually has a clue what I’m doing.”
“You do not, Mazikeen, just because we also used to sleep together doesn’t mean that you – “
“More like you’re still sore that Dan slept with your mom, which I’m sorry, is the funniest thing I have ever – ”
People are starting to turn in the hall and stare.
The fourth-grade art teacher is very clearly out of her depth here. She gets a look which means that this is Los Angeles and they are supportive of untraditional family structures, but that nonetheless she is going to have to ask at the next parent-teacher conference if Trixie is doing well at home. Trixie, for her part, sighs and yanks insistently on Lucifer and Maze’s respective hands. “Guys,” she orders. “Stop arguing. We’re in public.”
(This child is far, far too old for her years. And also far too clever.)
With a “that’ll show you” look on their faces, the Devil Himself and the Chief Torturer of Hell snap their mouths shut, turn around, and follow their shared child meekly into her classroom.
(They are big hits with the kids.)