#lucifer: i must just rly like work

[anonymouse5]

alchemy - deckerstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 369

Lucifer is early for once. Chloe doesn’t think he’s ever been early in their four years of partnership. And of course she’s here, because she’s a workaholic with nothing better to do.

“Lucifer, what are you doing here?” she asks.

She immediately wishes she phrased that better. Especially after he gives her a slightly hurt, confused look.

“So early,” she adds. “I didn’t expect you for another hour— not that I’m complaining.”

“Ah, I— er, simply needed a change of scenery, Detective. I thought I might make myself useful on the case?” he says.

Her mind immediately goes to Eve. Is it bad that she feels a little… relieved that he’s here instead of with her? That he came here to, maybe, escape from her?

A little. It’s a little bad. But she’s felt and done worse things lately.

“Of course,” she tells him. “I’m just going over the suspects list again. I wanna look into this guy— Ricardo Alvarez. He’s a professor who was using materials from the chemistry lab to transform metals.”

“Alchemy,” Lucifer scoffs. “What an utter waste of time.”

He seems like he’s going to say something else but decides not to, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Yeah, well, some of the materials coincide with evidence we got from the crime scene,” she says. “It’s worth a look.”

Lucifer nods.

It’s the least he’s said possibly ever. Minus the car ride to the crime scene after he found the vial in her purse. She’ll never be able to erase that distant, miserable look that was on his face the whole time.

“We have some time to kill while we wait for a reasonable time to pay him a visit,” she says.

She doesn’t exactly know what he was planning on doing coming here so early, especially without giving her notice. Maybe he assumed she’d be here because she often is. And assumed there’d be a case for him to work on because there usually is. When was the last time she did something fun again?

“There’s a… new burger place down the street?” Lucifer offers hesitantly. “If you’d like to try it out with me?

“Yeah,” she says with a grin. “That sounds great.”

[mammor0n]

human | solomon x reader

based on lesson 46-12, so spoilers if you’re not up to it. if you know u know 😉 MC is gender neutral ✌

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: softcore smut, not rly explicit and it doesn’t rly start till abt 1k words in but it’s still there. also like one swear word. plus it’s nearly 2am so if there are typos etc. pls forgive me, i’ll give it a read through when i wake up to fix ‘em (probably)

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You awake to a shuffling sound in the corner, and a year of living with seven demons has left you with more sense than to just ignore it. Still half asleep, you squint into the darkness and sigh an incoherent mumble.

“...oh, sorry. Did I wake you?” Solomon asks, voice barely above a whisper.

It takes you a moment to remember where you are; in a cramped motel room in a world that doesn’t really exist, undertaking a trial for your goddamn magic license, which somehow did exist, and the master to your apprenticeship waking you up as though this circumstance wasn’t the stuff of a fever dream already, or some twisted fairytale that slipped the works of Hans Christian Anderson.

“Mm… it’s fine. What’s up? Can’t sleep?” you sleepily slur.

“No… it’s weird, you know? After all that walking we did today, I should be really tired.” Although his voice is even, Solomon’s face echoes a vestige of sadness; loneliness only exacerbated as he continues. “As I watched the twins earlier, I couldn’t help thinking… they’ve always had each other. It’s just natural for them. And even though they don’t say it outright, you can tell how much they trust and rely on each other… it must be nice, you know? To have someone like that in your life. I guess even if you live for centuries on end, there are some things that can always elude you.”

Blinking away remnants of sleep, you push onto your knees and crawl a little closer to him. He sits on the edge of the bed, and you hear it creak as it dips beneath him, the motion pulling you towards him like gravity itself.

“Hey… you have me. You always will, okay? You’re not alone… you have people who care about you,” you protest, and Solomon chuckles.

“Thanks, MC… you really are nice. I’d like to have people I care about, and who care about me… especially if one of those people is you.”

You exchange a smile lit only by the dim streetlight spilling through the weathered, yellowing windows. Solomon’s eyes don’t leave you, and there’s a softness there you’re not accustomed to.

“Hmm… you know, going to sleep in an inn room and then suddenly waking up in the middle of the night is another staple RPG scenario, isn’t it? And usually at times like these, you can expect some sort of really important story event to take place. So what do you think, MC? Is that what’s about to happen here..?”

His eyes find yours, capturing you in a warm a gaze you wouldn’t dare to break; you become all too aware of the sound of your shallow breathing, and rise and fall of your chest, the lump of your thrumming heart in your throat. The air smells like dust and ash, with remnants of smoke from the fireplace curling around the ceiling as the tendrils creep into the cracks between the wood. Your eyelids are heavy, yet sleep has surely relinquished its hold on you. 

Solomon is quiet as he looks at you questioningly; murky blue eyes seem to bore into your soul, and in this light, with his hair messy and wearing a loose shirt and cotton pants, you’re jarred by the reminder of his humanity. Now that the magic and jewellery and smirk has been stripped away, you’re left with warmth, sincerity, and something so purely human that you’d never seen in him before. It was something about his eyes, or maybe the bob of his Adam’s apple, the hints of five o’clock shadow carving his jaw, the slight flush blotching his cheeks. At this moment, he isn’t a powerful sorcerer to whom Asmodeus himself is beholden; he’s a person. A human. Two humans sitting together in an inn room with lights off, tangled in scratchy bedsheets as breeze rattles the windowsill overlooking the flame-lit cobbled streets outside. Like something out of a fairy tale.

You’re so lost in his eyes that you forget to speak, and a teasing smile slopes his lips, although the corners of his eyes are just a little too tight, his breath just a little uneven. He swallows, licks his lips…

“Does that look in your eyes mean I can kiss you?”

You reply by crossing the small distance left between you and kissing him. After a stuttered breath, Solomon kisses you back, leaning into you and deepening the kiss as his arms slide around your waist. Once he’s started kissing you, it seems he can’t stop; he presses kiss after kiss to your mouth, his tongue seeking yours, his hands squeezing and tugging you ever closer as you lose yourself in his warmth, the lavender and patchouli fragrance that always seems to follow him, in the eager grasping of his hands on your skin and of your fingers in his hair and of the taste of sleep and evening and to draw it all together, the smoky spark of magic in every touch of his body against yours.

“...I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Solomon confesses breathlessly between kisses. “But you know, wherever you are, Lucifer and his brothers are sure to be nearby. I thought maybe there was no hope. That I’d never get an opportunity.” 

In his pause, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Well it’s just you and I tonight, right? Just us.” Your breath rustles the silken hair that isn’t snagged between your fingers, and Solomon smiles.

“Then… I take it this means I have a chance, right? A chance to… deepen our connection.” He supplements the words with a lingering kiss to your throat. “Why don’t you come just a little closer, MC..?”

You sigh, lips seeking his again as you crawl until you’re chest to chest. Slinging a leg over his waist, you climb into his lap and Solomon wastes no time in stealing your breath. His lips are hot, fast, sloppy yet calculated, and he holds you until your head is spinning and you can’t remember your own name.

“Solomon…” is the only utterance you can fathom, and then he smiles against your mouth, and you lose even that.

Wandering hands trail along your waist, beneath your shirt, and shivers ripple down your spine as Solomon suckles at your throat and twists his hands in heavenly ways that curl your toes and pry any thought from your head that doesn’t centre around Solomon, and you, and Solomon and you, two humans alone in an inn room and suddenly your clothes are gone and he’s on top of you and-

Solomon groans as he sinks into you, kissing along the column of your neck, suckling on your jaw, your chest, hands caressing every inch of soft flesh as he whispers curses in languages you’ve never heard into your skin. 

You can feel the magic radiating off him as he thrusts, feel your power imbued with his, the fusing of your auras as his lips meld to your skin, over and over, hot and wet and electric and then-

“Fuck, Solomon,” you hiss, head thrown back against the feather-stuffed pillows as his moans are lost in the temple of your body while his hips bruise against yours.

“Mm… you feel so good, my perfect apprentice… my… my beautiful MC…” His words come in sharp gasps out of time with his urgent motions, and you feel him collapse against you as his hips stutter and his seed starts to drip from between your legs, hot and slick as it spills onto the bedsheets. The intrusion has the tightening in your abdomen finally erupting into the shaking of your legs, into shivers of pleasure that race up your skin and draw sharp gasps from lips that Solomon stifles with a hard kiss.

“Solomon…” you manage to breathe as he removes himself from you, lays beside you with a heaving chest and sparkling eyes mirrored in your own.

“Sleep, MC… you did so well… more work tomorrow…” he manages to sigh, his arms closing around your back and dragging you into his chest as he kisses you again, and presses a final kiss to your forehead.

Relaxing into his chest, you nod, humming as forgotten tendrils of sleep begin to slink between your thoughts and numb your tongue.

“‘Kay… night, Solomon…”

You feel him smile against your forehead, and if this is a fairytale, you hope you never reach the last page.

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heyo, thanks for reading! if u enjoyed and u have a spare moment pls comment and reblog, it really makes my day!!! love u hope u have a good day/night 🥺👉👈

[pickalilywrites]

I'm probably really late but I was wondering if I could request some sort of angel/demon Rivetra? I hope that doesn't sound too weird or vague >.<

i hope this is ok :) part of it is inspired by an old shoujo manga called planetarian (but would not recommend for ppl to read b/c it’s rly old fashioned and problematic for realsies) as well as the tv show lucifer ^^

Inner Demons

Petra Ral. Levi Ackerman. Angel/Demon AU.

1755 words.

Buy me a Ko-fi!

She’s not sure what she should have been expecting when she walked out of the shower. She wasn’t expecting Levi to be a gentleman – that isn’t in his nature after all – but she didn’t think she’d find him sprawled on the only bed in the room with only his boxers and the sheets draped lazily over his torso while he stared blankly at the TV, not really watching whatever is on the screen. Petra could, of course, ask him to move to the couch and leave her the bed, but she doubts that he would ever agree to it when it would make more sense for her to sleep on the couch. It is, after all, in her nature to be sacrificial while he can be as thoughtlessly selfish as he wants. And there’s the option of sharing the bed because it certainly is large enough for the both of them, but considering who – or what – he is makes the idea of it almost unthinkable to her.

Petra stands at the end of the bed, her arms crossed against her chest as she waits for him to notice her, but he only stares at the television screen, ignoring her completely.When she had first been approached for this job, she had been honored. Every angel – every being – is loved by Him, but to be noticed by Him and to be chosen by Him for such an important task was a privilege. She had accepted it right away, hardly even caring about the specifics of the tasks. After all, if He believed she was right for the job, then she must be. And even when she was filled in on her new responsibilities – traveling down to earth and tallying up all the good in the world – she didn’t mind it. She thought it would be a wonderful experience to live amongst the humans and witness all the wonderful things they were capable of…she just never thought she would have to do so with a demon alongside her.

She had believed that if this was the path He had chosen for her, she could endure, but even being in the same room as this…creature churns her stomach. It’s bad enough when they’re out on the field and walking among the humans, Levi walking behind her and slacking off on his part of the job – tallying up all the bad in the world – while she diligently took notes to write up her report at the end of every week, but she hates sharing a room with him the most.

It’s here where she’s forced to spend the most time with him in close quarters. She knows how he spends most of his time lounging around the room, smoking and drinking instead of catching up on his reports. He hardly says a word to her although she knows his vocabulary contains an impressive number of curse words on the few occasions that she has heard his voice. She supposes he could be worse though. Despite what she would have expected of a demon, he’s meticulous when it comes to cleaning and has even scolded her for not keeping the room spotless even if it’s just because she hadn’t bothered to close a drawer in all the way or wiped up every drop of water on the bathroom counter. Sometimes it’s difficult to believe he’s a demon when he’s lecturing about how to properly clean up after herself, but she’s always reminded of his true nature.

It’s difficult not to sniff disdainfully at him when she sees him lying on the bed staring at the blinking monochrome lights on the television screen. He sits there lazily like a sloth, not even observing human behavior on the news. Instead, he chooses to look at the black and white speckles as if static is somehow more interesting. It must be, she thinks, because he believes he’s above this work. He could be in the Underworld torturing damned souls instead of walking on earth with mere mortals. Of course, someone like him would never take this job seriously. No, he’d rather just lounge around in this hotel room in nothing but his boxer briefs. Just looking at him, exposing himself to tempt whatever poor human happened to walk through the door, makes her feel physically sick.

“If you hate me so much, then just leave,” Levi says, not looking up from the TV.

“Hate you?” the angel stammers. He’s hardly ever said more than three words to her at a time, so hearing him speak a full, coherent sentence startles her. She wraps her robe more tightly around her, fidgeting as she stands at the edge of the bed. “I don’t…hate you,” she tells him, but even she can hear how forced the words sound coming out of her mouth.

“Is that so?” Levi turns his head to look at her cooly. On the top of his head, buried beneath his midnight locks, are two blunt horns shining from the light coming from the television set. She had thought that his eyes would gleam more devilishly, his mouth curling upward in a cruel smirk, but he only looks bored. Even now he looks disinterested in her words. “That’s right. It’s that ‘love thy neighbor’ crap that you and the others are always spouting, isn’t it?”  

She hates how he says it. Is he implying that she’s a fraud? That she doesn’t practice what she preaches? Well, he’s wrong, Petra thinks as she clenches her fist, turning to glare at him, her cheeks flushed a violent red. “That’s not it!” she tries to say, but he’s already getting up.

“Alright,” he says, but it’s clear that he still doesn’t believe her. He turns the TV off with a lazy flick of his wrist, setting the controller down on the bedside table. He doesn’t even look at her as he walks past, instead pushing past her and grabbing a robe from the bathroom before he heads towards the door.  

“I don’t hate you,” she says almost desperately just as he’s turning the knob.

He stops for a moment and finally turns to look at her, his blank expression gone. It’s the first time he’s ever looked interested in anything she had to say. He turns around and sighs when he sees her. His robe hangs open, the ends of the sash dangling limply at his sides. “That’s right, you don’t hate me, do you?” he says. He leans against the doorframe, his back against the wooden door. He cocks his head to the side. “But I disgust you, don’t I?”

“No, that’s not -!”

“It doesn’t matter how much you deny it,” Levi tells her, clicking his tongue. “I can tell just by looking at you. And you think it’s because of what I am, because I’m a demon, but the truth is that it’s because you’re an angel, you know.”

She’s not sure what he means, but she doesn’t want him to speak another word. For some reason, she’s terrified of what he’s saying. “No, you don’t get it at all,” Petra says weakly, continuing to deny it even though she knows it’s useless.

“It’s your pride,” Levi says, and Petra’s cheeks burn from hearing the word. “It’s your pride that makes you hate me so much. You think you’re above me because you were chosen by Him and I’m the scum of the earth, isn’t that right?”

“No, that’s not it,” Petra says almost desperately now. She walks towards him and, hands raised, thoughts of ways to violently silence him flash through her mind.

“But you never would have taken this job at all,” Levi says, raising his voice now, “if you weren’t so greedy to get higher on the ladder. Because we both know that even though He loves us all, he has his favorites, doesn’t he? And you’d love to be on the top of that list.”

“No! I took this job because He gave it to me,” Petra says through gritted teeth. She had been sure of that when she had begun, but now she’s not sure. “That’s the only reason.”

“Tell me, Petra,” Levi says, venom dripping as her name leaves his lips, “did you stare enviously up at those that he allowed at his right hand? How much did you want that spot that you would work with a disgusting demon like me?”

“Stop it,” Petra hisses. “This is you, all you!”

“But that’s what you do best, isn’t it?” Levi says. His voice is quieter now, and his eyes shine brightly. “You all like to blame us for everything bad that’s happened, but is it really our fault?”

She doesn’t even realize how badly her hands shake as she reaches for him, her hands circling around his neck.

“Tell me, Petra, did I tell you to be consumed with so much envy and greed that you’d stoop so low as to take this humiliating job?” Levi asks. He doesn’t seem bothered at all that her hands are tightening around his neck. Even as she chokes him, his voice seems to get louder and louder. “Was I the one who made you believe you were better than everyone – than all the creations on earth – and fill you with such disgusting pride?”

“Shut up,” she growls.

“Careful.” He’s quieter now, his voice raspy as she closes her hands around his neck so tightly that her skin has turned white. “Don’t let wrath take you too, Petra.”

It’s only then that she realizes what she’s doing, and she unclasps her hands from his neck. Even though Levi was the one who was suffocating, Petra’s the one that gasps as if she’s running out of air. She turns away from him, kneeling over with a hand clutched to her chest as she gasps for breath. It’s difficult to describe how she’s feeling – angry, humiliated, and frightened at being read so easily – but when her breathing slows, she finally realizes what it is. It’s shame.

She hears Levi take a few steps before stopping behind her. When she turns around, she expects to see him smirking, but he only looks down at her with a sympathetic expression. For a fleeting second, she hates him. She wants to snap at him and blame him for making her so hateful, but she knows it’s not his fault. She’s always had these demons. He was just the one to drag them out.

[mulderscully]

g*d lucifer reaching the brink and going all devil then realizing that isn't who he is, and that he loves Chloe too much for that...I'm gonna be a mess (and turned on tbh)

yeah, i think i’d be more worried about that scene if chloe weren’t there. 

the thing is like i’m not someone who likes to look into bts stuff too much bc we don’t have much (if any) context, and context is SO important. that scene looks really bad - but realistically i know that it would be character assassination for lucifer to kill someone (bc the show is his redemption arc and it’s about how he ISN’T all bad) and i know chloe would never forgive it, and he’d never be able to come back to work since it’s… public. 

i do think chloe will, as always, pull him back, but there needs to be a moment where he realizes FOR HIMSELF that his behavior is unacceptable and that chloe’s anger needs to reach it’s limit. i rly think there will be a moment where chloe is “get the hell out of my life, it’s over.” and he’s gonna be like… “well shit.” and i think it’s gotta be smth like that, like chloe who has never lost faith in him, who always forgives him - to kinda say I’M DONE for him to realize that he can’t keep acting up w/o facing the music and that he can’t keep hiding this huge part of his life from her. 

he doesn’t know how to control his emotions or how to deal w/ what is happening to him bc he is literally learning to be human. he wants to be in control of himself and his life, and he’s lost that. the one thing he thought he had control over, his own body, was taken from him. that’s a lot to deal with when it must have been so hard to mutilate himself like that in the first place. it's very understandable (to me) that he kinda lose it for a while, and goes back to what is familiar. but in the end he needs to come back down again and see that this isn’t who he is. cause yes, - he wants to be free from his father's "manipulations"… but he’s getting in his own way p much at every turn from trying so hard to be free that he is stopping himself from just being.

so yeah, chloe will stop him like she always does bc being w/ her (as in being around her) reminds him of who he rly is, but he also needs to pull himself back in. she can’t do it all, y’know. it has to be for himself too.

[awed-frog]

Dean and Sam (specifically Dean *cough*) have never seen Cas broken wings have they? Because to be frank this is something I am very curious about how this would go down, how they would react or how they wouldnt react and how exactly Cas is feeling about his wings (Like I know his feelings of self doubt etc but the wings are kind of a symbol for a failed angel and I am very curious what his feelings are since I personally am not good with empathising so I cant rly imagine)

This is a very good question and no, I don’t think Dean and Sam are aware of how personal this is to Cas. We already know, and they know, that some of Cas’ powers are dimmed when Cas is not in contact with Heaven - it’s likely they’ve assumed that Cas’ inability to fly is part of that. They may consider it, therefore, an annoyance for all involved, but not something that’s actually hurt Cas in a physical way. Instead, well, we know, because we’ve seen his wings, that this loss hit a lot closer to home than, say, the loss of his time-bending skills.

I may be spectacularly wrong, but I seem to remember that the shadow of Benjamin’s wings is the first time the boys have seen angels’ wings since S8 or something? So this is what they find -

- and this is how Dean looks at Cas looking at the wings.

Now, granted - he may be thinking, Shit, this must be hard for Cas or he may be thinking Fuck, that could have been Cas, or he may simply be sorry he’d given Cas such a hard time about Benjamin in the car (and the fact he was jealous of a guy really spoke volumes, by the way), but he must have noticed, even if it’s just ash on a wall, that those broken stumps are a far cry from what a dead angel’s wings used to look like.

(Yep, I’m picking this specific example because I’m writing about Gabriel and I’m sad and now you get to be sad too. Yay.)

Plus, you know, since Cas was consistently framed with his back to the wall during that scene, Dean must have wondered about Cas’ own wings and what they currently look like. Then again, I hope both Dean and Sam have wondered about that long before now - I hope they had an in-depth and affectionate conversation with Cas about what it all meant for him - Metatron’s betrayal, Falling, living on stolen Grace, the works. I mean, we do know important stuff happens in between episodes (*coughs* MIXTAPE *coughs*), and this is one of those things that seems so important and central to who Cas is as an angel - to his health and his mental wellbeing - that, really - it beggars belief that it’s something they simply never talked about.

(As to why, if it actually happened, we haven’t seen it - I guess it wasn’t as entertaining as yet another decapitated head splashing blood at the camera?)

That said, I’m not sure that Cas could explain what losing his wings meant to him - we know enough about his true form to know that, whatever he looks like, those wing shadows angels like to flash now and then are a sort of metaphor of the real thing. Whatever their true aspect and meaning, though, from what we know I’m sure their loss made Cas feel even more trapped and restless - I guess that, since he used to be able to move through space and time at will, what he does now must feel like limping around on two broken feet? Of course, angels may be slightly more resilient than humans - we’ve rarely heard Cas complain about his wings - but it was still a huge blow, and an interesting insight into the show’s mythology. I hope the fact Lucifer still has his wings intact will create an opening of some kind to bring this up again - and, of course, if we don’t get to see Cas’ true form by the series finale, we riot.