#supernatural lucifer

[dark-as-abyss]

Well, hello, my dear! I brought you flowers as a friendly gift.Hope you like human meat.Cuz I don't want to be disappointed in you🖤🖤🖤 For @quickreaver

[s0fter-sin]

the nature of consent to angelic possession should’ve been explored so much more

by nature, it’s incredibly predatory and we see explicitly with jimmy that castiel essentially groomed him into saying yes. obviously by picking someone already devout, proving his existence by healing him when he puts his hand in boiling water, being told he’s needed and special, but he also promises he will protect his family - a promise at best he never intended to keep or one he finds a loop hole in by assuming if the world is saved from lucifer then jimmy’s family, by default, is safe. but he never explains possession to him in simple terms; he never says what it will feel like, how long it will last, what it means for jimmy to say no or if he’s ever freed from his possession

jimmy, by definition, cannot give informed consent because he is never informed. he’s never asked in a bubble where there is no consequence from his no; it’s either jimmy says yes or the world will fall into an apocalypse, say yes or doom the world, say yes and save everyone you know and love, save your daughter

jimmy is conscious enough to feel like he’s been “chained to a comet” and to know he’s been dragged all over the earth and healed over and over. he felt bodily sensations and either couldn’t think past the physical pain to be aware of what’s happening outside of his body beyond that or was mentally suppressed by castiel but not put to sleep. jimmy’s hunger bleeds into castiel when he’s in proximity to famine so he isn’t comatose or frozen; he is starving. he is aware. he is suffering

how many vessels do angels go through, not because they burn out from contact with angelic grace, but because angels don’t care enough to look after their human needs? do they age while possessed? could jimmy have been trapped in this eternal purgatory of hunger and pain until the day castiel decides he’s done with him? a day that may never come since castiel seems to view switching vessels with the kind of annoyance one would have with having to buy a new car

jimmy is never told that even if it is over, he and his family will never be safe because demons will always want an ex-vessel; just to torture for fun even if he doesn’t have any knowledge of heaven. he and his family are never safe again from the second he says yes- breaking castiel’s promise

and when he is injured outside of castiel’s influence? when he’s dying of his own accord? even when it was indirectly caused by castiel himself? instead of healing him like he easily could and has? he decides to keep possession of his 12 yr old daughter and let him die. the 12 yr old who likely only said yes because he told her he could protect her and her family

all of that pain, all of that agony, the kind of experience that leaves a scar on your soul; and castiel didn’t think twice about inflicting it on a child without explaining any of it to her. and this is when he’s at his most loyal, inferring every angel is like this. how many angels are on earth at any given time? how many take their vessels back to heaven? how many hundreds of people are screaming inside their own heads, feeling like they’ve been chained to a comet, just to be told they consented to it? they asked for it?

what if someone said a verbal yes but internally didn’t want it to happen? is the verbal consent enough to override how much they don’t want it? even sam saying yes to lucifer in s5, is his desire to complete the plan and save the world enough to outweigh how much his body and mind must have been screaming that he didn’t want this? castiel, micheal, lucifer; they all use the person they want to possess’s family against them. they will keep them safe. they will save them. they will avenge them. faced with that choice, with the power and might of an angel asking you for something they’re telling you only you can give them, how could anyone say no?

lucifer saying, “i don’t lie. i don’t need to” and “i will never lie to you. i will never trick you”, is technically correct of him and all angels. but you don’t need to lie to manipulate someone and angels are better at manipulating and using humans than demons will ever be. at least demons are honest about how awful it is to be possessed by them, how forced it is. they never try to coerce someone into saying they want it

[connieboldheart]

Sam & Lucifer textposts >:)

[raiingurll]

Brothers shared toy

Cage!sam getting hatebanged by michael and lucifer

Messy sketch but i like this idea of silhouettes of michael lucifer abusing sam . I will definitely explore more concepts for the cage

[maxkennedy24]

[couldyouimagine-that]

Lucifer with 1 for the prompts. He'd be such a little shit about it too

Where To Stay

Genre; Fluff, bit of comedy

Word Count; 1.4k

Warnings; None really, just Lucifer being Lucifer.

Pairings; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

Prompts; There was only one bed! Check out my prompt list and send a request! (Open at time of writing).

Anon, you are absolutely correct. Sorry for the delay in writing and hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

-

Staying at a motel was, in general, nothing if not inconvenient. Staying at one with America’s foremost monster hunters, an angel and the devil was simply the opening to a bad joke.

“He’s not staying with them.”

“Dean –”

“No, Sam. The answer’s no. That’s final. Why the hell would you support this anyway?”

“Because if he doesn’t stay with them he’s got to loiter around somewhere with Cas –”

“I’m not standing outside in the cold all night with Cassie just because dad made it so that you stupid apes need sleep.”

“Angels do not feel the cold. He’s simply trying to look for an excuse to get what he wants.”

Lucifer tilted his head in Castiel’s direction, a cruel smirk pulling at his lips.

“Aww, Cas –”

“And failing.”

Castiel stared straight back at Lucifer as his face fell, unmoved.

You groaned dramatically and tipped your head up towards the sky. Which was pitch black and dotted with stars. And slightly obscured by the white cloud of your breath, because it was in fact freakin’ freezing.

“I’m tabling this discussion,” you announced, steps loud on the grit littering the asphalt as you made your way towards your room. “Lucifer.”

You glanced back at him then continued walking, telling him silently to follow. Which he did, but not without a suggestive raise of his eyebrows towards you and a self-satisfied smirk directed at the others. So self-satisfied, in fact, that he forgot to snap about being ordered around by an ape.

“Oh, hell no,” Dean growled, and took off in hot pursuit.

You sighed again, but the parking lot was small and your room key was already in your door. You pushed it open and indicated for Lucifer to go in ahead of you. He tipped an imaginary hat on his way past and you failed to keep your smile in check.

“Night, Dean!” You called with a brighter smile, barely taking in the slumped set of Sam’s shoulders and Cas’ direct stare from somewhere behind him.

When Dean began to run the last few steps and started yelling again, you slammed the door and pressed your back to it. You fully expected the fist he drove into the other side, wouldn’t have been surprised if a boot followed. But Sam said something you couldn’t make out and it was just about enough to make Dean back off, though not without threatening Lucifer to keep his hands off you.

You allowed your head to fall back against the door just long enough to close your eyes for all of two seconds.

“Oh no.” Lucifer’s voice was a mockery of distress, his drawl lengthening out those two short words to excess.

You frowned, stepping forward and taking a cursory glance around the room. Nothing looked out of place.

“What?”

The Devil grinned at you, overconfident and all-knowing and maybe just a little bit off putting.

“There’s only one bed.”

The flick of his eyebrows rivalled even something you would expect from Gabriel in this situation. You barked a laugh in spite of yourself.

“You literally don’t sleep.”

You busied yourself with organising what few possessions you had with you in your duffle bag, more than ready to just drop into bed and fall asleep yourself.

“Don’t need to,” Lucifer corrected. “Can, however. Recreationally speaking.”

There were the eyebrows again.

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head. Typical. But you went into the bathroom without comment, which Lucifer clearly took as an answer in and of itself.

By the time you came out again, he was sprawled across a good two thirds of the decidedly small bed. He laid back against the pillows, legs crossed at the ankle and nose buried in a bible of all things. Lucifer held the book in the air between two slender fingers when you stopped at the foot of the bed.

“You know how much of this is wrong?” He drawled, eyes lazily dragging up to meet yours.

Most of it, you imagined. But the truth was that you didn’t care. You were too tired even to argue the ridiculousness of an archangel, one of the most powerful beings on the planet, deciding on this particular night that he wanted to sleep recreationally.

You conceded in crossing to the remaining third of the bed and dropped your things down beside it.

“Are you at least gonna make room for me?”

You were fairly certain you were swaying on your feet. Lucifer took a theatrical glance at the lack of space he had left beside him and dropped the bible onto the floor. He laid one arm across his ribs, relaxed, and stretched the other over the remaining pillow. Another glance and a smug little smile told you exactly what he expected you to do.

You stood for a moment, your gears turning slowly. Regrettably, no useful responses presented themselves.

“..You’re kidding.”

With that same smile, he lightly shook his head and settled back further.

Unbelievable.

“But I wanna be under the covers,” you protested weakly, only for Lucifer to snap his fingers.

The sheet and comforter rematerialized on top of him, the corner nearest you pulled back. He hadn’t so much as taken off the jacket he’d been wearing outside. Your sigh was deep but your will was paper thin and frayed at the edges.

So you just gave up.

“You know what? Fine. I’m not arguing with you.”

You clicked the light off and slipped under the covers the Devil had so helpfully lifted for you. Not being able to see his reaction gave you some false sense of security, even though you knew he could see you just fine.

Your head came to rest on his arm as he had indicated, but you had intended to just lay on your back beside him. Instead, Lucifer’s other hand slid across your ribs and drew you easily into his side. He turned you over to face him in the same motion. Your head was now tucked against his shoulder, his jacket rough beneath your cheek. It was strangely comforting. You couldn’t help the way you relaxed into his touch when his hand ran over the back of your head and his fingers threaded into your hair.

“There you go, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice ever so soft. You felt it catch in his chest where he had you gathered in close to him. “You just let me hold you. I won’t hurt you, you know that.”

A thrill of fear lanced up your spine – you hadn’t seriously thought about that. You didn’t need to be physically close for him to hurt you, but there was something about the vulnerability of it. There were endless ways he could twist this to his advantage, even if he didn’t physically hurt you. But there. You’d known that all along.

Decision made.

You pressed your face in close to his neck, curled your hand into his jacket. Lucifer’s lips stretched to a grin somewhere above your head. His arms constricted around you, and again, it was comforting. You thought the slightly sharp scent you picked up was the remnants of cologne clinging to his jacket, though you doubted he would have bothered to wear it himself. Lucifer tapped the back of your head, nowhere near painful but unexpected enough to make you jolt.

“You’re thinking too loud. Sleep.”

You considered making a quip about how if he wanted to sleep recreationally, the pitch of your thoughts shouldn’t matter. You considered trying to back out of this situation entirely.

And for the second time in as many minutes, you forced your mind to clear.

You shifted to lay flat on top of him. Lucifer’s chest moved just a little as he huffed a laugh, slightly disturbing your hair.

“I’m a good distraction, I know,” he purred. His eyes flashed red in the darkness for a moment. They were full of pride.

You weren’t going to dignify that with an answer, but he was right. Proximity to someone who could vaporise you with a snap of his fingers worked wonders for getting you out of your head.

But, in spite of that one crucial detail, you found you got the best night’s sleep you’d had in a long time.

[glowfast]

Hi! I just came across your page and read a few fics, I wanna say I love it but I am itsy bitsy disappointed that there's no Lucifer (spn) fix so maybe I can come with an idea.

So reader is a Winchesters sibling, specific Dean's twin, and she's like more chill than Dean, Lucifer for a certain period of time had an interest in her and would always tease her and mockingly talking to her like they are an old married couples, so much sarcasm and teasing and mocking, until she had enough and talked to him the same way, teasingly calling him names like Honey or Darling, which Lucifer honestly kept the act, but Dean and Sam were NOT having it

⛧°. ⋆Hell’s favourite Winchester

masterlist

pairing: lucifer x fem!winchester!reader

genre: silly, crack, sarcastic!lucifer, unbothered Winchester sibling

notes: omg I’m so sorry haha I hope you like this !! I will try and write more for lucifer in the future :))

Lucifer had always liked you. Not in the dramatic, world ending way he did most things no, this was quieter. More annoying. The kind of interest that manifested in lingering glances, too close personal space, and a running commentary on your life choices delivered with a smirk.

“You know” Lucifer drawled one afternoon, lounging against a bunker wall like he owned the place, “for Dean Winchester’s twin, you’re remarkably less… shouty.” You didn’t even look up from cleaning your gun. “For Satan, you’re remarkably clingy.” Dean bristled immediately. “Hey-“ Lucifer waved him off. “Relax, muscles. I’m complimenting her.” You rolled your eyes. “That was a compliment?”

“Oh, sweetheart” Lucifer said, grinning. “You’d know if I was insulting you.” Sam watched the exchange with growing concern. Dean looked like he was two seconds from stabbing the Devil in the face.

This had been going on for months.

Lucifer teasing you. Mocking you. Showing up uninvited just to comment on your coffee choices or your taste in music or how you were clearly the smarter Winchester sibling. “And yet” Lucifer would say, circling you slowly, “you still hang around these two disasters.” You shrugged. “Someone’s gotta keep them alive.” Dean spluttered. “Hey!” Lucifer smiled wider. “See? Charming.”

At first, you ignored him. Then you tolerated him. Then somewhere between the sarcastic remarks and the oddly familiar cadence of his voice you snapped.

One night, after he called you “irritatingly endearing” for the third time, you finally looked him dead in the eye and smiled sweetly. “Careful there, Honey” you said. “You’re starting to sound obsessed.” The room went dead silent. Sam’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Dean looked like he’d just swallowed a grenade. Lucifer blinked.

Once.

Then he laughed. “Honey? Oh, I like that.” Dean immediately stepped between you. “Nope. Absolutely not. That is not happening.” You leaned around Dean’s shoulder. “What? He calls me pet names all the time. Thought I’d return the favor.” Lucifer clasped a hand to his chest theatrically. “Darling, you wound me. I thought we were having fun.” Sam groaned. “Why is this happening?”

From then on, it escalated.

Lucifer leaned into it shamelessly. “Darling” he’d say lazily, “are you really going to wear that on a hunt?” You’d fire back, “Careful, Sweetheart, you’re starting to sound like my ex.”

Dean would lose his mind every single time. “You don’t get to call her that” Dean snapped. Lucifer smirked. “Funny, she hasn’t complained.”

You didn’t. In fact, you seemed almost amused arms crossed, expression calm, like you’d found a strange equilibrium in matching Lucifer’s chaos with your own brand of unbothered sarcasm.

“You know,” you said once, glancing at him sideways, “for the literal Devil, you’re weirdly domestic.” Lucifer tilted his head, eyes flicking over you with something unreadable. “Careful, love. You’re starting to sound like you enjoy my company.” You shrugged. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Dean pulled Sam aside and whispered furiously, “If he calls her ‘love’ one more time, I’m stabbing him.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dean, he’s Lucifer. I don’t think stabbing him will help.” Lucifer, overhearing because of course he did, grinned. “Aw. Protective big brother. Adorable.”

You glanced at Dean. “See? He’s harmless.” Lucifer raised a brow. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

For all the teasing, the mockery, the sharp tongues and sharper smiles there was something almost… comfortable about it. Like an old rhythm neither of you acknowledged out loud. Lucifer liked that you didn’t fear him, you liked that he never underestimated you and while Dean and Sam watched this strange, infuriating dance with thinly veiled horror.

Lucifer just leaned closer one day and murmured, amused and soft, “You know, Darling… if we really were an old married couple, I’d definitely be the charming one.” You smirked. “Keep telling yourself that, Honey.”

Dean screamed into the void. And Lucifer? Lucifer laughed like he’d already won.

[jazz--bugg]

What Their Grace Feels Like | Grace Headcanons

Every angel has their own kind of vibe and I feel like the emotions / sentiments that their grace would evoke in people touched by it would reflect that.

Characters: Castiel, Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael, Raphael

Lucifer: 

A crisp winter morning

The way the sun reflects on freshly lain snow

A cool cloth on feverish skin 

Running your fingers over a frost covered surface

The satisfying crunch of snow underfoot

A chill down your spine

Dread that settles heavy in your gut

Prickling goosebumps along your skin

Shattered glass embedding in your skin 

A bitter cold that seeps into your bones 

Gabriel: 

The warmth that settles in your chest seeing the people you love laugh

Playing in the grass in the summer

Childhood mischievousness 

Sun dappled breezy fields 

The warm buzzing under your skin when you blush

The rich warm glows of golden hour sunlight

Seeing a magic trick for the first time as a child

Heat wave visual distortion

The creeping heat of humiliating embarrassment

The uncomfortable warmth of a too humid room with no ac

Pins and needles

The rush of heat you get from opening an oven

The burning under your skin from being in the sun too long 

Castiel: 

A gentle thrumming

Comforting white noise 

Rain on a car window that sends you to sleep on a long drive

Evening dew glistening on a spiders web

The gentle dripping of water from stalactites onto the floor of a cave

Ripples in a moonlit pond

A high pitched noise that’s barely in the register of your hearing but enough to give you a headache

The feeling of hail on bare skin 

The grating of grinding teeth

Nails on a chalkboard

Standing under cold running water for too long 

Michael: 

The approving gaze of an authority figure

A gentle but firm hand on your shoulder

Light filtering through stained glass windows

Pristine dove feathers 

Rosary beads gently rolling against one another during prayer

The awe of stepping into a cathedral for the first time 

Someone’s watching you when you’re all alone

An unpleasant pressure in your chest, like something is sat on it

Shrinking in on yourself, belittled. 

The weight of perceived and real failures crushing you

Stepping into holy ground where you know you don’t belong

Something liminal and clinical like the smell of a morgue or empty surgery suite 

Raphael: 

Touching a plasma ball 

The fizzling crackle and pop from sparklers

The taste of ozone, charged air

The buzzing of electric pylons

Lichtenberg figures tracing energy along your skin

A static shock

the clap of thunder overhead 

A harsh wind blowing through 

The churning of the ocean during a storm 

The dissonance of staring into the eye of a hurricane

The foreboding of storm clouds rolling in