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Father, Father, Father,

Father!

Into your hands I commend my spirit, Father, into your hands… Why have you forsaken me, In your eyes forsaken me, In your thoughts forsaken me,

In your heart forsaken, me oh,

Trust in my self righteous suicide,

I, cry, when angels deserve to die!

In my… self righteous suicide…

I, cry, when angels deserve to die…

( System Of A Down - Chop Suey)

Horribly beautiful scene from chapter 13 of the Dragon AU fic by violent_ends.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082925/chapters/55218694 Read it! 

And also listen to this SOAD’s song, it’s gorgeous.

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For chapter 12 of Angel in the Streets by @luckydragon10! The fourth and final commission for this fic! :) 

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Lucifer - The Lightbringer. Markers and coloring pencils. My imagined look at Lucifer's 'Lightbringer' powers.

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Binged Lucifer S3 in 2 days (bless you Netflix) so I had to art my FEELS while I wait (im)patiently for the new season in April.

Tictail | Ko-Fi | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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lucifer morningstar + bi pride flag colors

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Jelous Devil is an experience

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another commission for @ariaadagio‘s fic, Stars Like Angels Fall (chapter 2 specifically)! Also another fic that I enjoy 🥰 Thank you for being patient with me! 

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lucifer has some kind of disability from the fallen that he’s been masking/hiding for ages because he can’t show weakness to heaven OR hell and one day he slips and accidentally reveals his vulnerability to chloe

.

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the universe aligned for this to be retroactively hilarious

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Ooh, an open askbox! What about… A very confused Lucifer with a broken nose and a concussion and Chloe trying her best to take him to the hospital without him bleeding all over/vomiting in her squadcar.

Here you go, nonnie! I usually prefer to write illness rather than injury, but this prompt sounded fun, so I did my best! Deckerstar, concussion, broken nose, disorientation, tw: vomit, lots of blood.

Chloe’s unmarked squad car flew down the empty dockland streets, lights flashing red and blue whirls, siren wailing insistently despite the dark solitude of the port area at 3 AM. The warehouses and shipping lanes of the San Perez Port were mostly empty tonight, save for the gangbangers and guest-starring explosives technician they’d just battled, the ones who had contributed to the major acts of structural and physical violence this evening. The explosives were nothing short of action movie material, and Lucifer had played the part of hero to a T – only, when he’d been caught off guard (at the EXACT moment she’d gotten too close to him), it hadn’t been a chiseled stunt double taking the punch to the face or the iron-pipe blow to the head. And Lucifer had been extremely, unfortunately vulnerable due to Chloe’s presence, and had suffered dearly.

Chloe gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white and jaw rigid with resolve, fury, and worry. Her heart pounded to the beat of the arterial blood pulsing through (and dripping from) the formerly white handkerchief covering Lucifer’s broken nose. “Hang on, Lucifer,” she instructed, going for firm but landing at desperate. “No, don’t tip your head back!”

“Wha’sat bloody doise?” Lucifer mumbled, blinking unsteadily, trying to focus through newly blurred vision and the throbbing in his head. His voice was thick, congested; the handkerchief he pressed beneath his nose was saturated red with blood, more running in steady trickles down his chin to drip onto the lap of his several-thousand-dollar suit.

Chloe made a sharp left, accelerating even faster on the main road leading to downtown. “Just hang on, we’ll get you some help."

Lucifer’s breathing was audible, harsh and ragged, thick with clotted blood and phlegm. Abruptly, he choked on whatever fluids had been trickling down his throat, and blood sprayed the dashboard, not at all stymied by the limp wet handkerchief over his face. “Oh, bollocks,” he gasped, swollen face contorting further in an agonized groan.

“Shit,” Chloe hissed, taking her eyes off the road to fumble frantically with one hand through the console for anything – tissues, fast food napkins, insurance papers, fuck…”SHIT!”

Barely swerving out of the way in time to avoid a dark-clothed jaywalker who’d crossed in front of her, Chloe pushed aside fuming thoughts of that illegality and refocused on Lucifer. “Here,” she instructed, handing him a wad of napkins. “Don’t tip your head back – don’t move your neck at all, you probably have a concussion – you’re gonna be okay.” Inhaling and blowing out a firm breath to regain control, she repeated herself. “You’re gonna be okay. St. Mary’s is just a couple more blocks. Way better than County.”

“We ‘ave to catch ‘im…” mumbled Lucifer, who by now was beginning to look quite woozy, still struggling to contain the flow of blood running from his broken nose (and all down his chin and all over his hands). “’s Doughnut Day at the…doughnut day…”

“What?” Chloe looked over, fully, eyes off the road again. “Lucifer, stay with me. We’re almost to the hospital, I promise. Hang on!”

“I…” began Lucifer, struggling to form the basis of a coherent sentence, when suddenly his own eyes widened (both of them, together, indicating urgency) and his breathing sharply increased. A shoulder-wrenching gag doubled him over, and Chloe seized with panic. “No, nonononono—hang on hang on hang on, we’re here, we’re here, don’t—”

She just barely skidded to a stop in time beneath the arcing brightly-lit ER pavilion at St. Mary’s for Lucifer to thrust open the car door with all his remaining strength and cognizance and vomit an absolute torrent of blood and scotch all over the asphalt, drawing the attention of every single pair of eyes inside the glass-walled ER lobby.

As the double-doors to the entrance bay slid open for a pair of frantic nurses to come running outside towards them, Lucifer managed the faintest of chuckles, spitting out a mouthful of foul blood and grinning a broken visage scarier than his actual Devil face. “’ve proberly christened th’place dow!”

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Lucifer, 3x24.

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5.04 | 5.11

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Found this, and my heart went *boooooooom

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LUCIFER + missing being vulnerable