#Ripped lucifer's throat out in a bid to get him to put her out of her misery

[deathinfeathers-a]

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[theholycovenantrpg]

In the beginning was SALOME, a DEMON loyal to the cause of the DEMONS. She is said to be IMMORTAL and uses SHE/HER pronouns. In this New Testament she serves as a MEMBER of the VICES. Blessed be her name.

THE INDELIBLE MARK.

She was the first mortal to be welcomed into the horde of Hell, the first mortal to be granted wings. Prior to her demise, Salome had been regarded as something of a witch during her time on earth, and it seems that her gifts grew ten-fold as she flourished within the infernal realm. They say she bewitched Herod into doing her bidding, and that it was by witchcraft that she had seated herself beside Lucifer’s throne. But it isn’t with disgust that they speak of this, but admiration. Many soon learned that it was not only the living that she manipulated, but the flesh and bones of the dead as well. Salome is able to animate them -- to make them dance for her at her leisure and for this gift of hers she has been anointed as the Vice of Pride, for she crushes any notion of it by making the dead dance at her will and whim. To her, they are nothing more than unsightly pets and ghastly lap-dogs -- to be used as she so desired. And it is only at her say-so that the horrific nightmare of serving Salome might be ended.

THE HISTORY.

GORE TW

When she descended into Hell, it seemed to sigh -- as though it thought the devastation that spilled from her was something decadent, something sweet. What could be more delectable than the blood of the holy prophet that stained her fingertips? What was richer than the devastation she wrought by doing nothing more than dancing? She was born a princess and her parents had always let it be known that she would want for nothing, that she not need to lift a finger in order to have her every desire met. They say that a child is their parent tenfold. From her mother she inherited the taste of power and Herodias suckled her daughter on it until she was intimately familiar with the hunger that came with it; a boundless one that grew more brutal with each passing year. From her father she inherited a wicked talent for getting onlookers onto their knees for her, groveling and crawling -- hoping to brush their fingers against her skin or to hear from her a single word, whether it be tainted with affection or abuse. It was an incredibly potent concoction of avarice and maliciousness that they bestowed on their child, and none would be the wiser. How could they look into such a beautiful face and see anything aside from the Aphrodite-like beauty that was bestowed upon it? It did not matter the wickedness that one could suffer at the hand of Salome, because they would undoubtedly beg for more so long as they knew that they would be able to hold her gaze, even if it meant for a fraction of a second. There was no doubt that she could have the blood of the innocent stain her lips and still, many would beg to kiss them.

Her hands would do just as well, though. Bestowed with these blessings at such a young age, she had not known what it was to do without -- or what it was to be slandered for wielding the god-given ( or devil-cursed ) talents that had been granted to her. He thought himself as something holy, that putrid stain known as John the Baptist. There was no doubt that he was, but that did not mean his words were golden and his abuse of her family’s name should go unchecked. Though she knew he was likely bound for the promised paradise, it was upon her ground that he walked and her air that he dared to breathe -- so really, she was ushering him on his intended journey. Why should she be condemned for that? It was with a smile upon her face that she danced, the image of his demise dancing before her eyes as she twisted and turned, as her feet alighted upon the gilded floor rhythmically. When asked for her trophy by the man who called himself her father and the land’s king, she did not hesitate. The head of John the Baptist, she cooed. It was the first time that she had seen fear glint in her father’s eyes -- the first time she saw true pride shine within her mother’s. The head of John the Baptist is what was put at her feet, upon a silver platter. As she beheld it, she could not help but admire the trophy that had been given to her, for what better way was there to be rendered in history than spilling the blood of a holy man and condemning the soul of a king?

When she met her own demise, it was not with fear or remorse. No, the minute her mortal heart stopped beating and she opened her eyes to the fires of Hell, there was only laughter to be heard -- pouring from her lips as melodic as a lark’s song, a stark contrast to the wailing and grinding of teeth. For her infamy, she was granted the gift of wings -- the first mortal to ever achieve such a metamorphosis, but what a fitting thing it was to see the wings which sprouted forth from her unblemished skin. The infernal hordes welcomed her, harkened her coming in riotous celebration, as enthralled and enraptured by her as the mortals had once been. Lucifer sat her beside him, thinking nothing of the wicked mechanisms that whirred and turned over within her mind as she sought out ways for making the most of her new kingdom. The hungering abyss within her was just as boundless in her infernal existence as it had been when her heart was beating rich and red. It seemed only to be satiated when blood was spilled or when she was able to witness adoration and fear war in her subjects’ eyes whenever they turned to her. But even that grew tiresome after one century bled into the next -- so much so that she toyed with the idea of ripping the Morningstar from his lofty throne, if only to have something diabolically interesting to temper her hunger. How she pouted when the merriment was torn from her fingertips, the great betrayer Judas and his liege lord the son of Lucifer upending the king of Hell from his throne.

This new world that was bright and shining, glimmered like a loose gem for her, ripe for the taking. And let it be known that she did not hesitate to take. She was the first to spill blood upon this new earth, curious to know in what ways her starvation might be tempered. The angel was like a fawn, stumbling along -- what predator would she be if she let such an opportunity pass her by? Once the creature’s wings had been torn off, Salome stood above her, marveling at the way that the celestial blood shone against her skin. Was this finally it? The answer to her hunger? The satiation to her starvation? There was no one to see her dance and laugh by the corpse of the fallen creature next to her, no one to witness the blissful laugh that spilled from her as she stepped in the blood that gleamed in the light. None were the wiser, all too easily swayed by Salome’s tale of how she had seen the Heretic, stumbling away from the corpse of the divine being, the angel’s dying words too despairing to utter aloud. It was because of her that the Heretics fell, just as John the Baptist had, thinking that they might survive the devastation that she wrought -- it was because of her that the Holy Land was taken, that it grew, flourished, and thrived. And if they will not give her the throne that she has earned, then she is more than content to dance upon the city’s ashes.

THE CONNECTIONS.

MICHAEL: Instrument. Salome often finds herself wondering whether it is a deliberate decision on Michael’s part to truly personify the definition of drab. Stick in the mud, square, wet blanket, mediocre, boring, rigid -- there are so many words that come to mind when she thinks of Michael the former Archangel, and not a single one of them could ever depict them as interesting. But tools were never meant to be a point of fascination, were they? They were only ever meant to be wielded and utilized, they were only ever meant to be practical -- and what is Michael, if not that? With proper strategy she knows that she can utilize them effectively so as to ensure that the unacknowledged throne of Infernum is vacated, allowing a power vacuum that can be filled by her and her alone. It’s just a matter of patience, poise, and precision -- all of which Salome has in abundance.

BASTIEN AVALOS: Delight. He looks at her like a man starved, like a man that thirsts, like a man that has not seen the sun. She is his feast, his goblet of rich wine, a creature far brighter than the sun. And she didn’t need to do much more than casts her eyes in his direction and let her gaze caress the more enticing aspects of his frame. It was nothing more than a breadth of a moment and he practically threw himself prostrate at her feet -- none could blame her for being utterly delighted by this long-sought-for form of devotion. It stemmed the ache of her longing for adoration. Not entirely, mind you, but just enough to delight in Bastien’s company when she felt a need for it. Even more delectable is the gossip that seems to rally in their wake whenever they are seen together, contemptuous glances from mortals and raised brows of demons. Though, in truth, nothing could keep her from indulging with him -- at least just a little.

EPHEMERA: Obsession. She hangs at the edges of Salome’s mind at all times, constantly just out of reach. Ephemera is both the moon and the sun, necessary and ever-present, inescapable in the worst of ways. There is nothing more frustrating, more ire-inducing, more vexing than having a creature of fascination so tantalizingly close and ungraspable. The only thing that seems to draw Ephemera nearer is the poison that slips from Salome’s tongue -- like honey to the taste but acid to the throat as one digests it. She stirs within the bellicose angel something reckless and ruinous but just when she thinks that the chaos of her fury might break free, she finds the angel stepping back from the precipice when Salome drags her too close. The beauty of annihilation is robbed from Salome, but time and time again she coaxes Ephemera still. She can’t seem to stop. She doesn’t even think she wants to.

RYUK: Mark. Salome remembers how those thieving little street rats worked -- how they had their dirty little posse target their victim, also known as their “mark”, and steal the coin purse right beneath the unwitting mark’s nose. They were always quick about it, eyes wide and innocent, hands quick and steady. Salome has designated Ryuk as her mark, and what she wants to steal from them? Power. She frequently visits them under the guise of companionship, a smile ever-present on her lips, feigning interest in the wide expanse of their existence and the many lessons that they have accumulated over the eons. And just when they well and truly find themselves entrenched in their obligation to her, she will take from them everything that they are worth. Their power, their will, their heart. And she will wield them as they were meant to be -- as a harbinger of doom.

Salome is portrayed by La'tecia Thomas and was written by ROSEY. She is currently TAKEN by PHOEBE.

[sinfulredemptions]

{try blitzo?}

(btw thank you for this ask, it actually is going to double as the introduction of Stolas’s canon relationship for the Blog. APOLOGIES THIS GOT WAY OUTTA HAND:3c)

Aching Sorrow.

That was the only thing that the imp held in his chest as he sat at his desk, the rest of the crew having gone home for the evening. Blitzo stared at the large tome in his hands, his tail slowly stirring the air as he ran over the events of the past few months in his mind, his heart twisting and jerking slightly as they played back.

Oh sure, he had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be anywhere NEAR the Prince, and he honestly hadn’t. Blitzo had gotten what he needed, the book, the key to success for this little family he’d built for himself and it had been worth the one bawdy night. It wasn’t his fault that someone like Stolas had been gullible enough to fall for it. There was one thing he HADN’T counted on though:

The consequences.

Much to his surprise and downright fear, Stolas had actually shown up at the Headquarters and was oddly…cold…to him. It was unnerving, and made him incredibly anxious to be in the same room as him, which meant he did whatever he could to LEAVE said room as quickly as possible. Though…how could he have known what that would have caused?By vacating so quickly, he wasn’t able to find out until much too late that the Prince had actually managed to endear himself to the rest of the staff. -HIS- staff…his makeshift little family, started to actually…enjoy the company of the Prince.

It had started with Loona, Stolas, being a father of a moody teen himself, had a bit of an upper hand when dealing with her. Especially when he handed a potion to her that would cure the disease she had contracted and even given her another preventive one for the next time, telling her so gently that if she required more, she had but to ask.

He did it as a kindness he had said…from one father to another, according to Loona. She had been suspicious at first, but then when the cure had actually worked…and Stolas did give her more to keep her safe…she had deemed him okay in her book.

Then Millie and Moxxie of all people was where he set his sights next.

How odd it had been, how GRATING on his nerves, the insult when Stolas had come in one day to ‘check up on them’ and listen to the report given at the end of the day. When Moxxie had finished, the Prince had chuckled softly and said in that irritatingly calm voice of his,

“Well well, it’s good to see you have some actual competency on this little team of yours Blitzy~ I was beginning to worry my kindness was being squandered.”

Kindness.

Yes, it had been a kindness hadn’t it? That Stolas hadn’t murdered him, hadn’t killed him in retribution for the book.

From there, it had snowballed….Stolas showed up for every end of the day report from only Lucifer knew where, and would always praise Moxxie and Millie for a job well done. He would even bring small envelopes with bonuses…and one time, Moxxie even received a new sniper rifle for his efforts.

Of course he’d protest, but Stolas just smiled. It was a COLD smile, not quite reaching his eyes, but no one else seemed to notice. “Why Blitzy, they’re doing such a good job, how could I not reward such efforts? Why…that would make me a terrible boss~” He would click his beak as he twisted the dagger with his words.

There was nothing he could say against it that wouldn’t put him in a bad light, so he held his tongue and watched helplessly as over the months, Stolas got closer….and closer…and closer to his little family.

Then it took a different turn.

When Millie and Moxxie would get off work, they would bid him a good night and then hand in hand, climb into a car that was achingly familiar and off they would go. The same vehicle dropped them off in the morning and he couldn’t help but notice things…

Hickies on both of them, Moxxie actually being less TENSE than usual and less ruffled by his playful jabs, the two of them wearing nicer clothes than usual to work, them both texting Stolas more and more often…

It was confusing at first, and then the realization hit him…

Stolas was STEALING them from him!!

It had caused a panic to well, bile sharp in the back of his throat as he realized that Stolas was systematically picking his life apart, all because he hadn’t had the balls to meet the Prince face to face and have an actual TALK.

He recalled the messages the other left. Angry at first because of the initial theft…then calmly asking for a chance to chat. Those had scared him more than anything, so he had hoped it would go away, that the Prince would lose interest in the affairs of a mere imp.

What a fool he was.

His hands gripped the book as he glanced to the phone where it lay on his desk, a message sent to Stolas about five minutes ago:

Hey, can we talk?

It was all he could muster to send, and the phone showed that it had been read, but there was no response.

“Fuck.” He sighed, putting the book down and covering his face, tail curling tight in his anxiety, when a voice spoke and nearly scared the SPOTS off him.

“Hm, do be careful Blitzy, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place after all~”

His head jerked up and his mouth went dry as Stolas stepped out of a nearby shadow, his eyes flicking downward to an open book left at the Prince’s feet. So that’s how he kept getting in here unnoticed.

“Ah! S-stolas! Heyyyy!” Blitzo tried to play off the shock, but cursed himself as the other’s name stumbled off his lips, a forced smile on his face. “Just the man I wanted to see!” He grabbed the book and moved from around the desk, trying not to let the panic well up inside him as the Prince’s intense stare followed him, the owl moving to tuck his hands behind his back and cock his head at him.

It wasn’t like before…it wasn’t playful or flirtatious…

It was downright predatory and to be honest…it terrified him.

It took everything in him to keep his knees from shaking under the heavy pressure of the owl’s gaze as he hefted the book and cleared his throat. “Ahem…I wanted to say that I’m returning your book!” He said with forced exuberance, holding it out to him, his tail flicking anxiously behind him as he forced himself to look up at the Prince.

Stolas hummed, but the sound lacked warmth as he reached out and took the tome in an elegant talon, leaning up to turn it over and inspect it to see if it was in passable condition, opening it to study its contents.

Blitzo watched his face nervously, trying to pick up on any sort of expression, angry or otherwise there, but it was like trying to read a blank wall.

The silence lingered heavily, uncomfortably, before he spoke up, wringing his hands nervously. “So, ah, now that you have THAT back, I guess this means that you really have no reason to stick around anymore right?” He asked, kicking himself for letting hope leak out into his voice.

The sound of Stolas closing the tome made him jump and he looked up at him nervously, the Prince’s smile widening just…ever so slightly, his eyes looking a bit softer which, surprisingly, didn’t make him feel any better.

“Oh Blitzy…You wish me to leave so badly don’t you~"  The prince cooed, leaning forward and reaching out.

Blitzo found himself tense, on the edge of shivering as a talon caressed down the side of his face, the claw moving under his chin and tilting his face up so he had no choice but to look the royal in the eye.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times before Stolas did him a favor and continued the conversation without him.

“Don’t worry…I shall….”

Blitzo sighed then, a wash of relief coming over him, his shoulders and tail dropping as the shivering knot of fear slowly unwound a bit. Though it was very short lived as things suddenly felt wrong, a heavy pressure settling on the room around them.

His eyes darted about, seeing the room starting to bleed to black, and he looked up in fear at the Prince that loomed above him now.

“After…I take back my knowledge..” Stolas murmured, all four of his eyes glowing brightly in the oppressive darkness that swallowed up the room. The smell of ink was thick in the air, and he startled when wetness touched his hoof, looking down to see a thick puddle of black ink there.

“I..I already gave you the book!” Blitzo heard himself desperately cry, not even caring as the fear leaked out into his voice, and his heart dropped when the Prince merely shook his head slightly.

“No no Blitzy dear…I’m taking back A̷̘͇̙L͙̳̠L͔͙̪̩̠ O̗̜̜̞̰͠F͏̥̹̦͎̹̮ ̖̠̙̻I̢̘͔̮T̶͔̺̻̹ͅ “

The last three words were spoken in a voice he’d never heard from the Prince and it made his blood run cold, his eyes widening as he tried to scramble back, only to be held in place by the ink at his hooves which was quickly creeping upwards.

“N-no..Stolas?! What are you doing?! STOP! NO!” He screamed, trying to fight back, but the ink caught his arms, wrenching them behind his back painfully. His eyes widened with fear as Stolas reached forward, trying his best to jerk his head away, but to no avail. Slender talons humming with bright red energy before they grabbed onto his face, claw tips resting on either side of his head and digging into his temples.

The next thing he knew was searing…agonizing pain.

It was terrifying..violating…

It was like Stolas was digging into his mind, ruthlessly looting the memories and thoughts, tears welling up in his eyes and slipping down his face as the Prince did his work.

A flex of the claws and Stolas pulled back, strings of red magic laced to his claws and Blitzo couldn’t helped the pained choke that came from him, his eyes blowing wide as the thoughts and memories of the book were ripped away from him. He had thought he was so clever, give the book back while keeping the spell for himself, easy right?

He had no idea that Stolas would do this…COULD…do this…and now he knew why the other was as feared and respected as he was.

His whole body was shaking, his stomach trying to heave and twist as Stolas pulled back and yanked the last of the memories…the knowledge from his mind and the imp could take no more.

His head fell forward, his body heaving as his stomach forced his dinner up, his body shuddering at the trauma, panting heavily and squirming. “S-stolas…please…”The Prince seemed unmoved by his sickness or his plea, focusing on gently coiling the precious knowledge he’d gathered into a lovely little ball, studying it closely before he flexed his fingers and it vanished.

“There we are..” The Prince hummed, releasing his hold and withdrawing his oppressive presence and ink, allowing the weakened imp to fall to his knees in his own sick, Blitzo shuddering and panting heavily as panic started to set in.

He chanced a look up at the Prince who tilted his head a moment, reaching into the ink at their feet, pulling out a familiar looking notebook. He barely remembered it as one where he had copied some spells for a rainy day and Stolas tutted, turning it over and riffling the pages, the ink dripping out and leaving them blank.

“Honestly Blitzy~ This could have all been solved…if you had just…listened to me.” He sighed gently, looking down at him with a soft almost sympathetic gaze, a hand reaching out and all Blitzo could do was flinch away.

“There there now….all is forgiven..” The Prince cooed, petting the side of his face with his knuckles. “Do come by and let me know if you want to keep this little business of yours going….you’ll have to pay for it honestly this time I’m afraid.”

Blitzo’s eyes widened then and he swallowed as the realization struck him.

Oh…oh no…

Without the spell..I.M.P. would go under…he had no means to remember it, Mollie and Moxxie didn’t know it, neither did Loona. He was right where Stolas wanted him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Y…yeah…I’ll do that..” Blitzo said in a small voice, his body feeling like it was on a different plane of existence. He was shaky, weak…like he could barely think straight, his mind panicking at the new found gap in memory and trying desperately to fill it with knowledge that no longer existed.

The Prince hummed and turned then, tucking his tome under his arm, and walking a few steps away before he sighed and looked back at him.

“I had wanted to tell you that I -was- sorry Blitzy…for what I had said when I was angry…but….you just couldn’t let me. You had to run…you had to hide from what you did…but now…I’m sure you understand just what a foolish mistake that was. I cared for you….and you took advantage of me. You stole from me…violated the tender trust I gave you. You fooled me once….relish in it…because it will be the last time it ever happens.” Stolas said with a cold note to his voice that made Blitzo twitch back.

Stolas was right…he had brought this on himself…

With his own cowardice and arrogance…he had doomed his company and lost the companionship of one who had actually seen him as something more than just an imp. Once again Stolas’s voice cut through the static of his mind, teary eyes staring up at the prince as he looked down at him as though he were just a mere stain on the carpet.

“Now you get to deal with the consequences of your actions…you stole from me…and now I from you. I hope it was worth it. Now excuse me…Millie and Moxxie are waiting for me.”

With a flutter of a regal cape and a step onto the discarded book and the Prince was gone, leaving him kneeling on the floor, shivering and trying to piece his mind back together enough to clean up and go home.

What had he done?

[averywiseanimatedcat]

The ultimate reveal

OK so this has been sitting on my computer for ages while I tweak it but I’m sick of playing with it IT IS TIME TO PUT MY MINDS RAMBLINGS OUT THERE.

Summary:

My personal version of how Lucifer would eventually reveal himself to Chloe (involves drama, death...angel wings...the sinnerman...oh and a new power)  and yup. Might be a part 2 comiiinggggggg....? 

Has blood n shit, no smut (yet) 

“I think you’ve interfered with my business long enough Decker…”

Chloe swore through the rag stuffed uncomfortably in in her mouth. The Sinnerman smirked, his breath brushing the skin on her face. He raised his gun up to Chloes forehead. Just as she closed her eyes, waiting for the end,  a massive thud startled her captor. Looking around, the guards surrounding them looked just as confused, the thump came again, louder this time. It was coming from the massive metal doors that lead down into the underground of the warehouse. The gaurds all raised their weapons, forming a semi circle around the doors as the horrendous sound shook the floor. For a moment, the warehouse fell silent. Only the hushed mumblings of the gaurds could be heard. Suddenly the unmistakable sound of the hinges ripping from the concrete walls assaulted their ears. The lock held for a moment before breaking and clanging to the floor.  One contorted door creeked and slammed to the ground, flinging a cloud of concrete dust into the faces of the shocked men. The guards coughed as they peered into the darkness, the second door had vanished. It was silent for a moment, until a pair of glowing red eyes materialized from the shadow. The men fired into the doorway, and the unmistakable high pitch sound of bullets ricocheting off metal echoed around the building. The second door flew from the darkness and collected half of the Sinnermans men like bowling pins, sending them flying across the warehouse. At the same time, a huge, white blur unfurled from the gloom and swept away the others with a single, smooth stroke. Chloe tore her eyes away for a second, only to be further confused. The Sinnerman had barely twitched,  he stood with the same sticky grin on his lips, watching the chaos unfold. One word slipped from his mouth that made Chloes whole body run cold  

“Lucifer.”

Stepping out from the dark, a crimson skinned devil revealed himself.  His stride was unmistakable, he wore the same waistcoat and shoes she commented on earlier in the morning. She’d known him to be a fan of patterned clothing. He had to fold his massive wingspan to fit out the doorway, a the uncurled into the warehouse, Chloe gasped at the size of them.

“I knew I couldn’t keep you contained for long…not from the detective here anyway.”

The Sinnerman stepped infront of her, casually swinging the pistol around his finger.

A voice rumbled through the warehouse that seemed to sink into Chloes bones, husky and deep, it took her mind many seconds to realize it was Lucifer speaking  

“Don’t you touch her.”

“Oh I won’t…I mean. Who would? With you as her guard dog…”

He laughed and Lucifer grew visibly agitated.

“Look at this….the great Lucifer. The devil…the most evil creature in all of creation, reduced to what…”

“I’m not EVIL!”

Lucifers wings vibrated with rage, and his eyes appeared to sing with fire. The Sinnerman did not flinch, he tutted and replied

“Empty threats…I served you for millennia you know, did your bidding, your dirty work. Tortured the souls you wanted tortured. Went there, did this…and what did you do? Left me?

A look of recognition crossed Lucifers face

“Hell has gone to well…hell, since you left. None of the other demons will listen to me . I was their master for years, and now they treat me like one of these pathetic humans you care for so dearly!”

“I thought you would be happy, you dirty lot could do what you like. Run hell how you always wanted.”

“AH! But that’s just the thing, they can’t decide who to listen to. All they can scream is master master where is our master!

“So what, you came down here and did all this just to send me back to hell?”

“Essentially yes. Weeell…that was the original plan. Then I found this whole criminal mastermind thing quite fun.”  

Lucifers eyes flicked to Chloe for the first time, she instinctively looked away, unable to hold the burning gaze.

The Sinnerman grinned at the exchange between them, he gently caressed the gun in his hands.

“Now I know why you like it here so much Lucifer, but despite my attraction to the place, I can’t ignore my primal duty to hell, I’ve had this…itch. Since I came here, unfortunately my creation burdens me with a task, hell must have a ruler.”

He slowly brought the gun to rest on the side of Chloe’s head, tilting it over uncomfortably.

Lucifer went to move but the Sinnerman raised a single finger and stopped him in his tracks

“Ah, ah, ah little devil….you have something I want.”

The Sinnerman held out his hand, his long, thin fingers gracefully beckon at the devil. Lucifer furrowed his brows in confusion. The Sinnerman rolled his eyes and sighed

“They’re in your left breast pocket.”

In a wave, the crimson colour in Lucifers face and eyes melted away. The wings remained, but once again the Lucifer Chloe knew stood before them. He suddenly seemed very weak as he reached under his jacket. Pausing, he locked eyes with Chloe. After all their cases, the near death experiences they’d been through, the ridiculous events and emotional trials…after all that she could not read the feeling that passed between them in that moment. But it pushed something inside her, something desperate and urgent, like it was something she should know. Ripping his gaze away, he presented two strange, curved blades from his pocket. He started to step foreward, but the Sinnerman tutted again and approached himself. The exchange of the knives was careful and suspicious, but neither party acted. As he retreated, 3 of the gaurds who had managed to recover  surrounded them. They all trained their guns on Lucifer. The Sinnerman chuckled and admired the hardware in his hands.

“Such craftsmanship…I knew you would bring them. But I think you’ve been away to long…you’ve forgotten…I’m not like you, I don’t care much for deals…”

“NO!”

Lucifers voice bellowed through the warehouse, the seconds seemed to melt into hours as the Sinnerman gripped the pistol in his hands, aiming it at Chloes head. Whatever sound travelled through the air, Chloe did not hear it. What she saw played out silently like those action movies Trixie and Maze loved watching together. In the split second after the Sinnerman raised his hand, Chloe saw Lucifers face travel through a thousand emotions, she watched on helplessly as the 3 gaurds braced their weapons  against their shoulders. Time appeared to slow, and what transpired would be something she played over in her head, again…and again… Lucifers wings arched like a bird about to take flight, his whole body curled down into a crouch. As his hands met the floor, a blinding light sprung from the ground, as it blinded her a force catapulted her backwards. Still strapped to the chair, she landed painfully on her side, her head connecting hard with the concrete. Still unable to see, she struggled, only to find her arms and legs had been freed. Lost on her hands and knees, her vision began to clear and she could see her hands spread out on the floor, bruised and bleeding from her fall. Standing, multiple dull thuds pierced the ringing in her ears, she could see the Sinnerman standing a few feet infront of her. At her feet, one of the knives…snatching it up she did her best to run before he noticed her. With all the force she could muster, she drove the knife into the centre of the Sinnermans back. He whole body went ridged, contorting, his dropped the pistol in his hands.  A ghastly, wheezing sound escaped his lungs before he fell to the floor. She quickly retrieved is pistol, unsure if he was dead or alive. But it was empty…Looking up, she realized that she haddn’t just fallen, she’d been throw halfway across the building. And back where they had started, a lone body lay lifeless on the floor, white wings stained red.

“Lucifer!”

It took her only a second to reach him,despite the dizziness threatening to knock her over a second time. Kneeling beside him, she worked quickly to find some sign of life.

“Lucifer?!”

Cupping his chin in her hands, skin still radiated warmth against her palms. There was no pulse…no breath…his eyes were closed. Blood had pooled bellow his chest, and that patterned waitcoat she had thought so unusual for him was ruined by bulletholes.

Clutching his hand, she sat back trying to swallow to sob in her throat. He couldn’t be gone, not like this. Not when she had just learnt the truth.

--------------

Lucifer woke to the familiar drone of screams and creaking rock.

“Bloody hell…”

Opening his eyes, he found himself lying on the cold, grey floor of his win kingdom.  

“…literally.”

There was no one around to laugh at that,  and there wouldn’t be again. Demons didn’t have much sense of humor.

Getting to his feet and dusting himself off, he somehow knew Chloe would be safe. As the Sinnerman fired his final shots, Lucifer had seen Chloe closing on him with the knife. All the other guards would’ve at least be knocked out by whatever it was he had done. Nothing like that had ever happened, but he would have millennia to think about it now.  

Hell looked very much the same, nothing ever changed here. He went to go and find his old quarters; no doubt some of those pesky demons had taken it over for themselves, squabbling over who would wear the throne since he was gone. His mind void, he walked in silence past the various doors and entrances to the prisons people created for themselves. There was a strange cramp in his hand that had worsened ever since he woke up. Flexing it, he tried to shake the feeling and after a visual expectation it seemed to fade. I’m gong crazy, he thought. If I haven’t already.

The door to his throne room was up ahead, he stopped and gazed at the magnificently decorated doors for a moment. One door was ajar, he snorted and thought about how he hated leaving them like that, letting any old demon walk in as they please to pester him.

He went to take a step but was jolted back suddenly, like someone had tied a rope around his waist. Suddenly spinning, the world was not still, disorientated, he tried to right himself but got stunned backwards again. Staggering, his vision faded to black as he hit the floor again.

Chloe was trying to wipe the tears from her face, she didn’t want the backup team to see her in such a mess. Suddenly there was a gasp and a rush of air. She was knocked backwards before scrambling up again to a sight that made her want to scream. Lucifers eyes shoot open and his body was contorting, causing his wings to thrash wildly. Gulping for air, he franticly pawed at his chest in confusion while he cried out  

“Chl….Chloe?!”

Coughing and spluttering, he spat up blood and tried to get to his feet. But his legs fell out from under him, causing him to land awkwardly on his side with a grunt, Chloe ducked under a wing and rushed forward to help him.

“No! No, stay down!”

He sat up as Chloe ripped open his vest and shirt, using her jacket, she wiped away the drying blood and found…nothing. No wounds, no scars… dropping the jacket she sat back on her knees in shock whispering  

“That’s impossible…”

Slowly, her eyes took in the sight before her. Lucifer sitting, unharmed with his massive angel wings spread out on either side. They seemed to glow with a divine aura.. Clearly dazzed, his eyes were wild as they darted around the warehouse

“How did I get back here….”

He looked at Chloe with an accusing stare

“What did you do?!”

Chloe struggled to make words and stuttered

“Nothing….I….you were dead…you got shot!?”

“Yes…I noticed.”

He looked down at his ruined outfit and sighed heavily. His wings folded back and disappeared. Chloe shook her head in disbelief and breathed

“How are you here?”

Her eyes showed fright, but her voice was happy and shivering. A fresh flood of tears fell from her eyes and she threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her shaking body and buried his face in her shirt, breathing in her smell and letting her cry into his shoulder. Eventually she let go and asked

“Can you stand up?”

Lucifer nodded and she helped him to get to his feet, which were weak and struggling to hold his weight. Without even thinking, Chloe lent up and kissed him hard on the lips. Just as quickly, she withdrew in shock at herself, but kept her hands on him at all times. Lucifers mind was a mess, foggy from the being dead for about 3 minutes thing, but did Chloe just kiss him? Resolving to talk about it later, he shook his head and suggested they find a different shirt for him because everyone would wonder why there’s blood all over his and 3 holes for gunshot wounds. Chloe agreed and swapped his for one off the guard. He shriveled up his nose at the cheap material but kept quiet. Chloe noted the large scars on his shoulder blades she’d seen in his apartment long ago as he shrugged on the fresh shirt had gone.

‘No that’s where I cut my wings off…well Maze did, I told her to.’

Backup arrived soon after and they were separated to be checked by the ambulance staff. Lucifer complained bitterly but sat while he was checked over. Chloe had allot of cuts and bruises, a mild concussion and rope burn. The second she was let go, she found Lucifer, who was still being held by the ambulance staff who were completely bamboozled by the amount of blood on him without any wounds.

“Ah, finally Detective can you tell these morons I’m FINE and they can stop groping me.”  

Chloe gestured to the paramedics, they seemed unconvinced but retreated into their ambulance. Chloe and Lucifer stared at each other for a minute, the events of the day spun around in Chloes head and she suddenly felt dizzy again. Lucifer quickly grabbed her arm and she steadied herself.

“I’m fine…just…actual devil thing…”

Lucifer quickly snatched his hand away and retreated, she stopped him and gently touched his forearm

“No…it’s alright. I mean…it makes more sense than any of the other ideas I had.”

“And what were those?”

“I don’t know…lunatic…son of some criminal mastermind.”

Lucifer smirked

“Not entirely untrue.”

Chloe smiled and nodded

“Oh…right. Yea.”

An awkward silence fell between them before Lucifer offered

“I think you need to go home, rest. You took a nasty fall.”

“I did. I’m probably not ok to drive though…”

“I’ll drive you.”

The journey to Chloes place was silent, pulling up, the lights were all off. Trixie must’ve been with Dan. Maze was never able to be pinned down lately. Before Chloe got out of the car, she looked at Lucifer, who seemed to be avoiding her eye.

“You know I’m not going to be able to sleep anyway…why don’t you come in. We can talk about it.”

“I really think you should rest…”

“I don’t think lying in bed all night thinking about how my partner has been the actual devil this entire time counts as rest.”

“If you insist, Detective. But I think I’ll go home first and change…”

“Alright. Aslong as you promise to come back.”

Lucifer paused, looking like a cornered animal. Eventually he smiled, the first genuine smile of the day.

“Promise.”

And now she knew he wasn’t lying. Sure enough, he stuck to his word. And 20 minutes later he knocked on her door in fresh clothes. No trace of the drama that unfolded visible.