#chat: lucifer

[om3ned]

❛ no , it's perfectly possible . it's just bloody difficult . ❜

@crownedinsin

Damien had accepted his power to save Simone's life--or rather, to bring her back to life, because he was pretty sure she'd been dead dead with a bullet in her brain. But only for a second. For as hard as he'd been resisting it, it was over so fast. He'd reacted on pure instinct, pulling on that awful power to drag her back, and the miraculous thing was that it had worked. He'd avoided such godly (er, devilish?) displays since then, but not because he thought he couldn't do it. He was terrified to look too closely at it, terrified by the dark allure of it, terrified to lose himself in it and become what everyone said he was.

He'd finally landed on a cause he considered worth the risk though, and that was bringing his ex-girlfriend back to life. If he could save Simone, then it stood to reason he could save Kelly too, even though she'd been dead much longer. It was his fault. A lot of people had died horribly just from standing too close to him while he remained willfully ignorant of what he was. He couldn't fix all the damage he'd done, but he thought maybe he could right that one wrong and give Simone her sister back.

"Difficult how? Like… you have to sacrifice a virgin or rip a hole in the space/time continuum? Is she going to come back all rotting and covered in goop? I'm not asking you to do it for me. I just want to know if-- if I can, and how. She didn't deserve to die because of me."

[gallowsheart]

😱 @crownedinsin liked for a starter

Ian had been writing long enough to trust his process. When he hit a block, it was time to get the hell out of his office and go experience something besides four walls and a keyboard. Maybe most people wouldn't agree he had a decent work/life balance, but the simple fact was that he'd never really liked people in the real world all that much. Mostly, they got on his nerves with all their talking and the absolutely absurd things they cared about, like how much their shoes cost and what Kim Kardashian had Tweeted recently. When fictional people annoyed him, he could just kill them, which was how he'd become one of the most popular and gruesome indie horror novelists out there. Reclusive as well, his face not available on the backs of book covers or any social media ever. He preferred the privacy that came with anonymity.

But like them or not, the fact was that other people were necessary, and that was how he found himself sitting alone in an unfamiliar bar. Erin was a lousy drinking partner; he hadn't even asked her to come along. She just would have been miserable, and then he would have been miserable. He'd left his sister in her studio coated in a fine layer of limestone dust from her latest art project, where she was happiest. He nodded to the bartender and requested one of the beers on tap, something local with a silly name he wouldn't remember tomorrow, because this was about changing things up, not drinking the same goddamn thing every night and having the same goddamn conversations.

[om3ned]

“ i can’t see into the future i’m not a witch. “

@crownedinsin

"No, you're the goddamn devil!" Last month, Damien wouldn't have thought those words could ever come out of his mouth, much less that he would believe them. He didn't just believe, though. He knew. He knew it deep in his bones, in the lizard part of his brain that understood things his more domesticated sensibilities could never comprehend. He knew this man was exactly what he said he was, as surely as he knew that there was some hideous, unexplained connection between them. It felt like a betrayal at the same time that he felt he should always have known. Some part of that awful power inside him had recognized him all along.

"So is that-- is that what you wanted? The same as Lyons and Armitage? You want me to, what, destroy the world through politics? Was that your big plan for the future! Tell me!" Despite his insistence that he didn't know the future, Damien couldn't accept that as an answer. Everyone wanted something. Everyone had a plan for this power he hadn't asked for and didn't even want. He couldn't imagine the devil was any different. If anything, he was probably worse. That was the point, right?

[om3ned]

do you feel that any lie is a betrayal?

@crownedinsin

Damien didn't know why he kept returning to this particular bar. If he had any sense at all, he'd be avoiding any connection with strangers, as most of them lately had turned out to be part of a vast conspiracy that believed he was the son of the devil. But he was rapidly running out of spaces that felt untouched from that madness, and nothing bad had ever happened to him here. He felt comfortably anonymous, and the bartender had already proven he didn't rattle easily.

He mulled over the question, idly peeling at the corner of the label from his beer bottle. It wasn't his first, and perhaps that was what loosened his tongue. "I think only children can afford to look at the world like that. Black or white. Good or evil. Truth or lies. Adult life is more complicated. If I just saw a kid get half his face burnt off by an IED, and he asks me if he's going to be okay, then telling the truth isn't just harmful, it's… it's monstrous. Some lies are comforting, even necessary."

[om3ned]

❛ It's amazing how far you can get on denial. You know why so many people use denial to get by? Because it really fucking works. ❜

@crownedinsin

Damien hadn't really intended to show up at the same bar around closing. He didn't even know what time it was. Hell, he didn't even know how he'd gotten there. He must have blacked out and gone on autopilot, his subconscious deciding this was a safe place. It was easier to believe than that he'd just wished himself there. He'd wanted to get away. Away from the nuns who were trying to save him or kill him, he wasn't sure which. Away from all of Lyon's and Rutledge's fucking mercenaries, or whatever they were. Away from all the people he'd killed, but his mind instinctively shied away from that.

He was half-naked and covered in blood, none of it his. There had been wounds. He distinctly remembered thorns cutting into him in that pit that grave, but his flesh was whole and unbroken now. His teeth were starting to chatter, less from cold than from fear. "I--I'm having a little trouble d-denying right now," he admitted. "I'm sorry I-- didn't mean to come here. I should…" He trailed off, having no idea what he should do. Go home, pack a bag, and flee the country, maybe. It was sounding more and more tempting. The bartender was right. Denial was a good option. As long as he ran, he could pretend this wasn't fucking happening.

[thexwanderingxsouls]

@therefxreweare

thexwanderingxsouls asked;  ღ Rubbing your leg against theirs under the table. for Cass and either Vex or Luci (or both!)

He had invited her to dinner, out in some five star Michelin restaurant. The place might as well have served real gold with their meals for the price and Lucifer enjoyed the finer things which meant, he certainly was enjoying his meal. She was seated across from him and yet he felt the toe of her heel press against his calf and inch higher. Finishing his bite and setting his fork down, in one quick motion he had her ankle in his hand, “I get that your pussy is already throbbing sweetheart but you’re not going to get me to fuck you before I finish my meal.” A soft smirk on his lips and he gave her ankle a soft squeeze and then let it go, “And I advise you to eat up.” Icy blue eyes stayed on her as he picked his fork and knife back up and cut into his next piece steak.

Cassidy was pushing her luck, she knew that all too well as she felt him catch her ankle but that certainly wasn’t going to stop her. They’d crossed paths while she was on the field for one of her stories and the two had hit it off. When he’d offered her a night out to dinner with the devil - a dramatic joke, she’d assumed - she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to spend the evening in his company. She did manage at least an attempt at a contrite expression at his words but her foot did linger near his beneath the table as she straightened and cut into her own steak. “Are you suggesting I eat because of the quality of the dinner or because I’ll need my strength?” She retorted sweetly, and absolutely shameless Cheshire Cat smirk perched firmly on her lips. Her own gaze met him unwaveringly as her foot had the audacity to trace up his shin again, not as high as before but just enough to see how he’d react. She took a bite of her own meal then before taking a sip of her wine. “This place is lovely, by the way,” she segued as if nothing had happened. “Thank you for having me out for the evening. I’ve been living in my dark room or editing at the computer lately.”

[thexwanderingxsouls]

@therefxreweare

thexwanderingxsouls asked:  ✪ to lean in close to say something to my muse for Azalea and either Vanessa or Luci (definitely what I'm going to call Lucifer)

Hole in the wall bar joints weren’t really his thing but demons and devils liked to meet in shit hole places and he wasn’t going to risk taking one of them to something high end and in his name - at least not tonight. The chaos might be worth it at another point but business was business and being the devil himself meant he was a busy man. Still, he was here and what was done was done, a half smile towards the bartender, closing the distance as he leaned over the top, “You might want to close up for the night…” his voice an almost purr against her ear. This place would be a blood bath soon enough, a funny thing about people making deals with demons and thinking they could run away somehow, like their was some being that could break the bond they made.

Azalea’s back had been turned to the relatively quiet bar, grey gaze focused on the shelves of liquor on the back wall. It had been a ghost town most of the night - not unusual for a weeknight - and only a handful of regulars seemed to be hanging around, nursing their drinks and chatting for the last hour or so the bar was to be open. She was taking the opportunity to scan her work area and make sure as much of her closing cleaning was done to save time at the end of the night. Her concentration was abruptly broken, however.  She felt him first, a warmth at her back that seemed far too close for comfort. And then the words, smooth as velvet curling around her ear. Azalea turned on her heel with a snap, taking enough of a step back that she couldn’t collide face-first with the speaker. Sparks flew behind her eyes as she gave him a scathing look. “First and foremost, mate, get back on your own bloody side of the bar. Leaning across puts you in my territory and I’m rather territorial.” Her words were acidic, sharp and pointed as they fell from her tongue. A few of her regulars seemed to notice the situation and while they kept a look out from the corners of their eyes, they otherwise stayed out of it. Az could hold her own, or so she seemed to think. “Second, I can’t just close the bar down early because you want me to. What the hell sort of logic is that? Sod off or buy a drink, I don’t care which, but you will stay on your side of the bar, understood?”

[lenhopper]

“Do you ever fucking shut up?” he let out a frustrated sigh as he rolled his eyes, turning to look at the young man sat next to him at the bar who it seemed had been chatting up the bartender for far too long when she was clearly not interested in holding a conversation. And normally, Len wouldn’t care. But he’d had a long day and was trying to drink away a headache and this kid wasn’t fucking helping anything. “Like, seriously, it’s like you get paid by the word. But how about, I give you a hundred dollars to shut the fuck up for the rest of the night.”

@billiondollardevil​