𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑 𝖒𝖆𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

indie lucifer morningstar. mun and muse are 21+. semi-selective. crossover and oc friendly.

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

The first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe is the first time he makes love.

He’s had thousands of lovers spanning thousands of years, and he remembers all of their names. He remembers how they felt, the tint of their skin, if they moaned or just sighed. He remembers if they begged him for more, if they looked coy and tried to seduce him, or if they wanted him to be the dominant one, who took charge and pinned their wrists.

But the first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe, he can’t even remember his own name. Instead, it’s just blinding white passion, utter desperation, and he lets her envelop him completely.

The first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe, he whispers her name like a prayer, over and over and over again. He worships her body with his lips, glorifies the altar of her breasts, prays between her legs with his tongue and his mouth and his cock.

The first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe, he loses track of time and so does she. He doesn’t realize that they haven’t left the bed until she says that she’s thirsty. He can’t count how many sunrises they’ve seen. They leave the bed for the shower and they make love in there, reviving one another with the water and their slick bodies that taste salty from sweat. When they finish the shower, they take a bath. They make love in there, too.

The first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe, he tells her that he loves her. Her eyes get red and glassy and wet. He holds her and chokes back tears of his own.

The first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe, he realizes that he can never have sex with anyone else ever again, because nothing can compare to what they’ve done here. Anyone else would be a pale comparison, a paper doll, a fucking joke.

The first time Lucifer makes love to Chloe, he realizes that he’s glad he can’t read her, so he can experience her for the first time, unfettered. He thinks that being mortal maybe isn’t quite so bad.

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

goodetective‌:

        Chloe pauses, eyes lifting to Lucifer’s face. He spends so much time lamenting humanity’s penchant for blaming their sins on him, she never stopped to wonder why he sticks around. To be fair, she only recently discovered how real that pain is to him. That it’s his actual life and not just a persona he’s adopted as a coping mechanism for a messed up childhood.

        And she feels…a little sad for him. Not pitying (she’s sure he’d hate that) and not her usual affectionate exasperation. Just sad. She can’t imagine how lonely it must be to sit on the throne of hell, surrounded by the absolute worst of humanity. Did he know what to expect when he first came up from below, or was he surprised to find humans have virtues as vast and varied as their sins? 

       “A hamster would complain less.” Chloe’s eyes drop quickly back to her task. She hopes she wasn’t staring too long. Suppressing a smirk, she sticks a band-aid over the wound that doesn’t even cover the whole thing. It’s more for her own amusement, anyway. “There. Now I just have to get a picture for Trixie so she can see how her donation saved your life.” The band-aid is covered with smiling daisies. 

So maybe the pain of the wound is superficial. And maybe it’s going away now. But Lucifer is still pouting, though it has nothing to do with his current predicament. He can be a veritable man-child, and he knows it, but the spoils of mortality have made him this way. Can he really be blamed for it? He lets out a huff of a breath. Keeps his eyes on the detective, measuring her every move.

She looks at him. Really looks at him. He can’t read her mind -- she’d once asked if he was telepathic, and he’s never wished he was more than he does right now -- and he doesn’t know the look on her face. Chloe is, as always, a giant mystery.

Lucifer settles back. Lets the detective cover his booboo with a little daisy, and it’s almost obscene how cheery this thing is. He cants his head to the left, however, adding, “At least get my good side, Detective.” Lucifer pauses to allow the detective to do as she pleases, adding only then, “Come to Lux tonight.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

I’m like walking heroin, very habit forming. It never ends well.

indie lucifer morningstar. semi-selective. oc & crossover friendly.

 psd template  photo credit

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

goodetective‌:

        Chloe closes her eyes when he kisses her forehead, and a few tears slip free without permission. It’s not fair that he’s here. It’s not fair that he has to leave again. It’s not fair that he’s going to live forever and the universe won’t even allow him one measly human lifetime of happiness. One lifetime to spend with her. 

        Lucifer’s not the only selfish person between them, but this is the only thing she’s ever asked of the cosmos and it’s been so harshly denied. Always, just when they’re about to find each other, one of them is torn away. There are still so many things about their time together that Chloe doesn’t understand. Now maybe she never well. 

        She opens her eyes and they’re still glassy with unshed tears, but she needs to see him when he says the words that feel like two parts agony, one part relief. The flash of crimson in Lucifer’s eyes doesn’t scare her. She’ll never be afraid of him again. 

       “I know,” Chloe says, nearly in a whisper. “I know you can’t—” Her voice breaks and a pained furrow forms in her brow. This much she does understand: that every time he returns it will be harder for him to leave, just as it’ll be harder for her to let him go. More painful for both of them, in the end. 

        Chloe reaches up to frame Lucifer’s face between her hands, wondering how long it’s been since he’s known a gentle touch. The whole millennia, if she has to guess. Not a lot of hugs going around in hell. “How—” She stops to draw an unsteady breath. “How long do we have?” She doesn’t want to waste any more of their time. 

Lucifer wants to tell her so many things. He wants to ask her so many things. How Maze is doing. If Trixie has grown. If Detective Douche is still a douche. He wants to tell her that it’s been terrible where he’s been, that he’s fought in a million wars, many of which he fought alone. He wants to tell her that he isn’t okay, that he doesn’t know if he’ll be okay again, but that being with her allows him some semblance of peace.

But instead, Lucifer says none of it. He watches her. Catches her eyes. Feels his burning, but she doesn’t look away. She isn’t afraid of him anymore, even though he’s struggling to fit his own humanity back into his body for these few stolen moments.

He wants to to smile, and he wants to cry, but he’s had to be so stoic that he’s not sure that he can do either anymore. Her voice wavers and he takes a cheek in his hand, knuckles a yellowing-healing bruise. This is the last time he’ll see her, he thinks. There’s no way this Heaven-sent woman would come his way for her eternity. He’d send her back himself if she did.

And then she touches him. Lucifer flinches. It’s a subconscious gesture, one that he covers quickly by turning his face to each of her palms to kiss, one after the other. His hands find her wrists to keep them there. It’s okay. Just a reaction. Hell is ugly. Uglier than normal.

“Not long,” Lucifer answers, his voice a reverent hush. “Few hours perhaps. The demons have gotten quite fickle. Rebellious. The last thing I need is for them to mutiny again, or come back to earth.” Lucifer would love to just... take her in. Take her, if that’s what she wants. Or go back to Hell now, if that’s what she’d prefer. Anything for her. “Detective...” He pauses. Corrects himself, gentle. “Chloe. I’m not quite the same as I was. And I don’t know if I want you to see me like this.”

[mcnystorcies]

◜♥ @ofmcrningstcrs // Starter Call◝

This was definitely a BAD idea that she got herself into. Usually with cases the officers would wait until they had more evidence against someone or even a warrant to search a place, but they had nothing, nada and she had been convinced by Lucifer (well bribed with a fancy coffee drink) to go to a bar downtown. Although she might’ve had fun being in one of the cars the man drove, she wasn’t sure this would end well.

When they got there and parked a little away to avoid suspicion she gave a glance to the man next to her. “So how are we going to do this? Politely ask a bunch of scary old men who murdered our victim?”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

There were certain things that Miss Lopez didn’t need to know. She didn’t need to know that Lucifer was the devil. She didn’t need to know that his devil-dom was precisely why, he assumed, there was a dead body in Downtown LA, found in a seedy bar’s cooler. And she definitely didn’t need to know that he was worried.

Lucifer had asked for extra whipped cream. Extra sprinkles. It had worked. “Careful of the upholstery, Miss Lopez,” he warned nonetheless. “I thought that might work. Remember... the detective doesn’t need to know about this.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

I’m like walking heroin, very habit forming. It never ends well.

indie lucifer morningstar. semi-selective. oc & crossover friendly.

 psd template  photo credit

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

DETECTIVE‌:

       “Maybe I just think it might be good for you. Humbling, even?” Chloe’s been outrageously patient with him, all things considered, and truth be told she has plenty of better reasons to be irate with Lucifer than his immortality. 

        So, yeah. She’s taking advantage of this a little. But while her grip on his arm is firm to keep him still (as if she could if he really wanted to escape), her other hand is gentler as she clears away the dried blood. “Humility’s not a bad look for you, Lucifer. You should try wearing it more often.” 

Lucifer is tempted to withdraw completely. The detective is enjoying this far too much. Still, there’s something almost kind about the way she tends to him now, and despite the sting from the alcohol, Lucifer settles slightly. There are worse pains.

“Humanity,” Lucifer starts, though his voice is low, and perhaps almost sincere, “is the only reason I’ve stayed. But that doesn’t mean I have to wear it.” He wonders, briefly, if the detective gets it now. If she understands why he’s acted the way he has for all of those many years; what she’s clearly seen as petty arrogance has really been affectation demanded of him for his previous... position. The world of celestial beings is far too black and white; humanity fills in the grey. “Now. Have you finished? No need to tend to me like a wounded hamster, Detective. I’ll be good as new as soon as you’re gone.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

I’m like walking heroin, very habit forming. It never ends well.

indie lucifer morningstar. semi-selective. oc & crossover friendly.

 psd template  photo credit

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

Eyyyyyy. Mutuals, feel free to hmu on discord for rping, plotting, or all other kinds of general fuckery.

sympathy for the devil.™#0351

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

DETECTIVE‌:

       “I’ve seen kids with worse injuries whine about it less than you.” Chloe swats his hand away and replaces the cotton pad with an alcohol swab. All from her own kit, of course. Some people have to come prepared. “Sorry. Meant to warn you about the sting.” She doesn’t exactly sound apologetic. “I think I’ll stick around, actually. Let you enjoy the human experience a while longer. Try healing like one of us for a change.” 

“Well, Detective.” He scoffs, eyes wide, offended. “I do hope that you take better care of the little parasites than you do of me. Not sure how your offspring made it past aged three with that attitude.” The alcohol burns, and Lucifer lets out an ah!! of a sharp noise, withdrawing a bit. He’d ruined more shirts with this detective than he cared to think about. “Well, I don’t know why you’re getting so snippy with me, Detective. After all, I didn’t exactly make myself this way. You can thank Dear Ole Dad for that one.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

DETECTIVE:

        Chloe answers his snippiness by pressing a little harder. She’s not proud of it, but now she’s irritated, and he’s making it out to be worse than it is. Maybe Lucifer’s gauge for judging the severity of a wound is skewed by immortality. “So all it takes to bring down the king of hell is a pocket knife and a can-do attitude? Good to know.” She peels back the cotton pad. “The bleeding’s stopped. I think you’ll live.” 

She’s making it out that he’s being dramatic, of all things, and Lucifer doesn’t like the attitude very much. He hisses at the feeling of her fingers pressing into his wound, head canting slightly as he asks, “What is wrong with you, Detective? Can’t you see I’m hurt?” Positively wounded. “To be perfectly clear, Detective, the only thing that can bring down the king of hell is your proximity, so if you wouldn’t mind.” He waves her off with a shooing gesture.

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

DETECTIVE:

       “So, um…what would happen, if I left right now?” She’s dabbing gently at the wound on Lucifer’s chest with a cotton pad, only meeting his eyes for a second at a time. “Would it just…disappear, or—? Is that what happened when I shot you? How far away do I have to be?” There’s so much Chloe doesn’t understand, but she wants to. She needs to. (And maybe she’s also filling the silence, just a little.) “Does time factor into it? Like if I go for a quick jog around the block, will it be gone by the time I get back?” 

@ofmcrningstcrs  —  call 

There’s pain. Sure. But more than that, Lucifer just needs Chloe to stop asking so many Dad-damned questions. His previously pristine Tom Ford button down has gone from white to red within a matter of moments, and her bloody cotton isn’t going to do the trick. “Detective,” Lucifer starts, measured, “I’ve been stabbed. And as much as I’d love to answer all of these delectable queries, I’d rather you just... take that lap around the block. Better yet... go home, Detective, and I’ll ring you as soon as I’m able.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

IVY:

The witch was only half-listening to the man, preoccupied with her study of what was left of two of the dancers from the night before. There wasn’t much to go off of- in fact, to anyone not in the know, the scene could have been passed off as suicide bombers detonating in a night club. 

“But so far from Great Britain?” Ivy muttered to herself, resuming a standing position again. “I apologize for the imposition,” she offered, turning her head in the man’s direction, “but I’m afraid there are further questions I have for you, Mr…” This had to move quickly- if LAPD arrived at the seen before her and her companion had finished their intake, it was just that much more damage control she would have to waste time with.

Lucifer was completely and totally bored already. He had enough of the detective without another sticking her nose in the goings-on of Lux. The last thing he needed was an investigation by someone who hadn’t been involved with him prior, who didn’t know who he was. Not that it could make that much of a difference, really. Death was death, and there were still two dancers lying dead on his floor.

Shame, really. “It is an imposition, actually,” Lucifer said, plain. “It’s the greatest of impositions. I’m afraid my schedule is completely booked. Chloe Decker. Call her. And I’m Lucifer Morningstar. But yes... that detective will have this cleared up in a jiffy.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

DETECTIVE:

       “I think they do matter. I think you went through more in those years than you have time to say.” Chloe knows her partner. Not even a thousand years in hell could change him enough to take that away. She sees the weariness in Lucifer’s eyes, and the urgency. Only a few hours, he said. Only a few hours before he has to go back to hell, for good this time. (Though now she thinks a part of her will always be waiting for him to come home again, listening for the heavy flutter of his impossible wings.) 

        And this is when she realizes their last goodbye was not enough. It was over too quickly and the break wasn’t clean and because of that, it’s been healing all wrong. Chloe hates an ending without closure; they’ve always made for her least favorite books. This is another chance at goodbye and she’s wasting it on questions when she could just—be with him. Even if only for an afternoon. 

       “You’re right. It is selfish, but…that’s not all it is.” Just like it’s never been the whole of him, even back when he wanted everyone to believe it was. “You came back…for me,” Chloe says, with the same quiet awe as when he dove between her and an ax, and she realized he was willing to die so she could live. “Okay, so…tell me. I want to know.” Even if it’s going to make this hurt more later. Sometimes a bone needs re-breaking before it can heal properly. 

        Chloe looks up with a smile, and though her eyes are brimming, a note of her same old self slips through—a teasing reminder of all the times she grilled him and received a patently enigmatic response. “How do you feel, Lucifer?” 

The detective hammers the nail directly on the head; Lucifer has been through more than he could explain in a few hours. But it had all been deserved. Lucifer abandoned Hell, for years and years, and he could hardly have been so arrogant to assume that it wouldn’t be utter chaos when he returned. And it’s all woven into his personal narrative now, and he feels it, screaming at him, fighting the inexplicable draw back to the pit.

The draw he feels to stay here, with Chloe, is stronger.

It’s bad, because he wonders if a few hours will be enough. If he will even be able to leave when he knows he has to. Selflessness isn’t quite a default emotion for Lucifer, and he’s weighing what he and the detective want versus his newfound altruism.

He leans in. Kisses the detective’s forehead, lips lingering there. Because, yes she’s right. He came back for her, and he wants to say those words, but he hasn’t ever said them before, and his stomach is seizing into knots. It’s harder to Lucifer than the hellish rebellion he’s been fighting by himself for centuries. It’s harder than leaving had been in the first place.

And yet... it was the easiest thing he’d ever felt. Lucifer draws back. Cups Chloe’s face in his hands, thumbs running along her alabaster skin. He takes a breath and it shudders. He’s losing control of himself, eyes glassy with something close to desperation, glowing red again. “Detective,” he breathes. It’s a start. Her name is like a prayer tumbling from his lips.

“I love you, too. Sometimes, it feels as though I always have. And it’s only grown. Every hour of every day of the last thousand years. Which is why...” He can’t look at her to say this. He glances down. “Which is why I can’t come back again.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

EVE:

@ofmcrningstcrs liked for a starter from eve

Eve was just about hanging off of his arm, clutching onto it and tugging as she pleaded with those puppy dog eyes of hers. “ Come on, Luce. It’ll be fun. ” For all the paradise Heaven was suppose to be advertised as, it never did have anything quite so exciting as this. LAME. “ I’ve never been to a strip club before. ”

Why the hell Eve needed a strip club when he employed the most beautiful dancers in Los Angeles to take to the tables at Lux was completely beyond Lucifer. He’d objected, with a grimace, trying to explain that his suit would get sticky, and he’d just gotten a new pair of Louboutin dress shoes, and cum-soaked floors hardly sounded like a good time. Unless, of course, he’d been the one to get the floors to that point. But, well... Lucifer always had been weak for Eve’s pleading eyes, and he signed, finally resigned. “Very well, my little deviant, but we get a private room.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

DEVANI:

   Devani resisted her instinctual snort of amusement.  “Alright then.”  It would probably take her a couple google searches to make sure she got it right, not being intimately familiar with the item.  “That I can do.  Do you need it by a certain date?  And-sorry, your name wouldn’t happen to be ah Lucifer, would it?  Thought I recognized your…face.”

“As soon as possible,” he answered. At her recognition, Lucifer’s hubris got the better of him. His lips curled upward into an amused smile, pleased as, well, hell. “The very one, darling. You’ve likely seen me around. Lux, perhaps? Or... did we make a deal? I usually tend to remember those things -- all of them -- but I’m certain one or two may slip past me from time to time.”

[ofmcrningstcrs-blog]

IVY:

“That doesn’t account for two of the women being dead.” And from an apparent killing curse, but Ivy wasn’t certain that information would be safe with him.

“How many does that make this week already? And it’s only just Wednesday.” Her small shoulders slumped slightly, the rising death toll physically and mentally bringing her down. Hands tucked in her jacket, she surveyed the bodies from a crouched position. “Tell me…what do you think is happening?”

In Lucifer’s line of work, there would always be dead girls. As macabre as it was -- and Lucifer acknowledged that it was very macabre indeed -- that was just the way of things. So to Lucifer, this was just another Wednesday. Just another stain on his floors.

“When do you think the cleaning crew will arrive? I’m set to open in a few hours and I’m terribly afraid that no one will want to dance among the corpses of Lux. What I think is happening is a terrible imposition on my business and my time, and I’d rather this be over soon.”