#get yourself a lucifer

[dewdropdinosaur]

Baby Don't Hurt Me

LUCIFER X M READER Summary: You and Lucifer were never really a labeled thing until when your very life is at stake, does the King of Hell truly take into account his feelings. Warnings: PG-13 for implied sex, sexual language, vulgar language. For the lovely @pixie-skull REQUESTS OPEN!

In the dark and tumultuous realm of Hell, a sinister yet charismatic figure ruled supreme. Lucifer Morningstar, the embodiment of rebellion, carried himself with a confidence that belied the chaos of his kingdom. At least that is what it looked like to his subjects. Among the twisted landscapes and restless souls, there was one being who managed to capture Lucifer’s true self like no other—Y/N.

Their relationship was an enigma, even to them. Late nights were spent in shadowed alcoves, hidden from the prying eyes of Hell’s denizens. Whispers and stolen glances became their secret language. The thrill of sneaking around, of keeping their connection hidden, added a dangerous allure to their meetings. In the privacy of Lucifer's opulent chambers, they would share moments of passion, both knowing but never saying that there was something more between them.

Neither of them dared to label what they had. It was easier that way. For Lucifer, admitting to love was a vulnerability he couldn’t afford, especially not after Lillith and just getting Charlie back in his life. Y/N, strong and independent, valued their freedom and feared the chains that love might bring in a place like Hell. They reveled in the attention from Lucifer but to admit true feelings might do more harm than good in Hell, especially with all the people who love to take advantage of others. Both men and women alike had only used them so why wouldn't the King of Hell himself, Y/N was convinced, only use them too?

Ye even as the war of love raged on, the forces of Heaven prepared their assault, and Hell and the Hazbin Hotel braced for the inevitable clash. The day of the battle arrived with a ferocity that shook Hell to its core. Angels descended with blinding light and righteous fury, led by the vengeful Adam, Heaven’s warrior. The air was thick with the sounds of clashing weapons and the cries of the damned and divine.

In the midst of the chaos, Lucifer fought, albeit a little late to the party, with a fury born of centuries of defiance. His eyes constantly darted around the battlefield, always finding their way back to Y/N. 

Standing utop the roof, sword glinting in the light of the battlefield, Y/N stood guarding a fallen Charlie. 

“I would suggest you back the fuck up, Adam.”

“Awww, isn’t this cute, the little lover wants to save Luci's little girl.”

“The closest you get to brainstorming insults Adam is a light drizzle.”

“BITCH!”

Slicing his guitar towards Y/N, they met it with a block. Both parties slashed through the air, perry and block one after the other. Sweat poured down Y/N’s face, their short hair sticking to their face. he moonlight cast a silver sheen over their blades, creating an almost ethereal glow as the two adversaries faced off.

Adam's eyes narrowed, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "You really think you can stop me, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt.

Y/N tightened their grip on their sword, the weight of the steel comforting in their hand. "I won't let you hurt them," they replied, their voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through their veins.

Without another word, Adam lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Y/N parried the blow, the clash of metal ringing out like a thunderclap. Sparks flew as their swords met, the force of the impact sending vibrations up Y/N's arm.

Adam was relentless, his attacks coming fast and furious. Y/N matched him blow for blow, their movements fluid and precise. The two danced a deadly ballet, their swords weaving intricate patterns in the air.

"Impressive," Adam sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "But you're only delaying the inevitable."

Y/N didn't respond, their focus razor-sharp. They could feel the strain in their muscles, the burn of exertion, but they pushed it aside. They couldn't afford to lose focus, not now.

With a sudden burst of speed, Adam feinted to the left and then swung his blade towards Y/N's side. Y/N barely had time to react, twisting their body just in time to avoid a fatal blow. Pain lanced through their side as the tip of Adam's sword grazed their skin, but they gritted their teeth and pressed on.

Using the momentum, Y/N counterattacked, their sword arcing towards Adam's chest. Adam deflected the strike, but Y/N was relentless. They pressed forward, their attacks becoming more aggressive, each swing fueled by their determination to protect Lucifer and Charlie.

For a moment, it seemed like Y/N had the upper hand. Their blade cut through the air with precision, forcing Adam to stay on the defensive. But Adam was cunning, his eyes never leaving Y/N's. He saw an opening, a split-second lapse in Y/N's defense, and he took it.

With a swift, brutal strike, Adam knocked Y/N's sword from their hand. The weapon clattered to the ground, and Y/N stumbled back, breathless. Adam advanced, his sword raised for the final blow.

“Go ahead and cry to your boyfriend, he isn’t here. I will enjoy destroying you, sinner.”

Watching this all unfold, Lucifer's heart clenched—a sensation he hadn’t felt in eons. With a roar that echoed across the battlefield, he unleashed his full power, tearing through the ranks of angels to reach Y/N. He arrived just as Adam’s sword plunged into Y/N’s side, a scream of agony ripping from their lips.

Lucifer’s vision turned red. In a blur of motion, he struck Adam with a force that sent the angel sprawling. Adam, now unconscious under a pile of rubble, laid motionless. 

Rushing back to the roof, Lucifer knelt beside Y/N, cradling them in his arms, the world around him forgotten. Blood seeped from the wound, and Y/N’s breaths came in ragged gasps.

“Stay with me,” Lucifer commanded, his voice breaking in a way it never had before. “You can’t leave me, not now.”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a weak smile playing on their lips. “I’m not going anywhere, you stubborn devil.”

Lucifer felt the sting of tears. He pressed his forehead against Y/N’s, a silent plea for them to hold on. As the battle raged around them, he realized the depth of his feelings. This was more than a fleeting connection, more than a casual fling. This was love, raw and undeniable. This man had given him love, passion, kindness, heck even tried to save his own daughter.

“I…I think I love you,” he whispered, the words heavy with the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions.

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek. “I know. I love you too.”

————————————————

“Lucifer, for Heaven’s sake, it will heal on its own!”

“I know ducky, but please….just let me look at it!”

“No you worried devil, I will be okay!”

Letting out a light chuckle, Y/N laid in Lucifer’s plush bed, surrounded by bandages and pillows. While Lucifer’s concern over his new found love was touching, the constant mothering was a tad annoying but mostly endearing. 

“Promise, me ducky?”

“I promise, Puggle, now come cuddle with me!” 

With a grin, Lucifer plopped into the bed with Y/N, burying his head into their shoulder. After a moment of silence, Lucifer shifted…and then shifted again.

“Yes, platypus?”

“Um…”

“You wanna make out yes?”

“....only if you are okay with that?”

“Darling, if I ever say no to that question there is a gun in my top dresser drawer. Shoot me with it.” 

Stealing his lips into a searing kiss, Y/N tangled their hands into Lucifer’s hair. Rolling ontop of Lucifer, Y/N kept kissing him with fevor. A thousand past kisses didn’t compare to the fiery nature of this single one, it felt like even their fingertips deliciously burned at each other’s touch. Popping the buttons off one by one of Lucifer silk shirt and then removing his own, the dance of tongue and teeth continued. Nips, soft bites, and moans eoched around the spacesou bed room. Tilting his knee up, Lucifer ground his leg into Y/N’s crotch. Lewdness sprung forth from their mouth as they clamped down onto Lucifer’s shoulder. 

Outside the doorway, however, was a very concerned Charlie who had been hearing the commotion and was worried about the injured state of Y/N. Softly pushing the door open and immediately regretting her decision, Charlie stood dumbstruck. 

“Fuck, just like that Luci, mhmmm….so close.”

“Ducky, come on, come for me!”

“DAD?!”

The scene came to a halt! Caught in a rather…precarious position, Lucifer and Y/N stopped their movements. Throwing the covers swiftlyt over them as Charlie shielded her eyes, all parties stared at each other. 

“Eh….Charlie…”

“I’ll knock next time I am so sorry, I was just so worried about Y/N and you and the fight and—”

“Charlie! Its okay. Luci…I guess this is a good a time as any….Charlie dear your father and I are dating—”

“FINALLY!!”

[pageofheartdj]

What fans learned about Lucifer from episode 5:

What fans learned about Lucifer from episode 8:

[anachronic-cobra]

How many death threats do you think I'd get if I wrote a queer book where the Devil falls in love with Adam from the Garden of Eden when something causes him to Fall from Heaven? And they both have to unlearn their religious trauma? And I retcon the existence of god because I think that's a more interesting take on the concepts of heaven and hell?

[signofthestriking]

Fucked up the roof he's sitting on but eh you get it

[lilacthebooklover]

everyone's reactions to mimzy are just perfect lol

[speakofthedebbie]

oh my god this is so stupid

[allastoredeer]

Holaaa I am back with a new appleradio fic recommendations for the day. 🍎🦌

The Devil's Trip to the Big Apple by Otoshigo

This one It’s basically Lucifer suffering from Amnesia, deluding himself to be a detective and goes to play in the human world, making Charlie Upset and Consequently cause problems for Alastor as well, who has to go and fetch him back lol

To think that a CSI-esque plot would actually work with these two characters? Amazing. The scene where they guessed criminals was so great, and the way Al literally just showed up at Lucifer’s office, didn’t want to use the chair, and was like, I’m your new partner, poor lost little lamb, suck it up, made me Cackled. Also the way Alastor’s doesn’t even think Lucy might be interested in him and is absolutely buffled when the devil kisses him poor Dear eheh

There is also an Helluva Boss crossover, with Moxie asking an autograph from Al, amusing the sinner enough to not kill the HH squad on the sight…Absolutely recommend 😆

One of my favorite Hazbin tropes is Alastor being baffled that someone would like him in that way.

Character: I love you, Alastor ♥‿♥

Alastor: .....

Alastor:

He'd 100% beat someone over the head with a newspaper.

But oooooh! Amnesia fic AND Lucifer & Alastor being detectives! This looks tasty! And I love Moxie asking for Al's autograph T.T that's so cute! It has been added to the list!

[amtrak12]

HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY!

So there's this Season of Drabbles thing that I just discovered yesterday??? Basically a drabble exchange that's open to virtually any fandom/character as long it's already been nominated. I'm late to the summer party, but sign ups are still open through June 30! I tried to sign up last night but 3/4 of my fandoms/characters hadn't been nominated yet.

👀 Well, I fixed that now. My nominations for Warehouse 13 and Ghostbusters 2016 (and Law & Order SVU -- WHAT? I'LL DRABBLE ABOUT IT. FUCKING TEST ME!) along with some missing characters from nominated fandoms have all been approved! \0/

So maybe think about signing up too? 🥺👉👈 Because if you request/offer WH13 or GB16, we might get matched up. 💜

[theboost]

man Ethan Chandler Talbot truly just doesn’t have any principles of his own. Every time a new beautiful woman shows up he devotes himself one hundred percent to her and her cause until of course she leaves his line of sight, wherein he reverts back to what the last beautiful woman told him to do. This also applies with father figures btw

[our-inspire-verse]

Something something, the VERY obvious nature of knowing exactly what insecurity a fictive is going to adopt, and sure enough its EXACTLY the thing you thought it would be. And it expresses in the same way

[hollybell51]

God s13 sam wants to bang rowena so so so bad it’s embarrassing

[pageofheartdj]

Sanguine, choleric, melancholic and phlegmatic~

[stressedbisexualtm]

sigh.. him..

[baby--charchar]

me: *can tell that the people I support are on the verge of their own crises, and says a quick prayer to Lord Lucifer that I can be there for them on this long day*

*1 hr later*

*blacks out at work, can't sit up, fever spikes, and the entire left side of my body seizes up so I have to leave early*

Lord Lucifer, mildly sarcastic: Like that?

me: *single thumbs up from being face planted in the rubble that is my physical and mental health*

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. (tentative) chapter 16 excerpt. 1’252 words. unedited. featuring: pallas’s private reflection on an old train of thought. pretty lengthy discussion of feelings surrounding a deadname. vaguely implied dysphoria. oops all queer kid emotions.

[Transcript under the cut]

quick my english assignment isn’t looking. post pallas genderthoughts.

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-).  @vellichor-virgo​ @nicola-writes​ @doctormoss​ @gerbermatter​ @cactusprincewrites @houndmouthed @muddshadow @aeipathys @just-wublrful @midnights-melodiverse @corkywantstowrite @paradisiacalshroud @andromedatalksaboutstuff @kingsinking

At five years old Pallas had come to The Library with a name sewn into the tag of their jacket, they were thirteen when they went to the Director to have it struck from the book and a new one written in. 

Back then the conversation had terrified them in its finality, they’d written out a script and spent hours practising it in the mirror to iron the waver from their voice. It can be done, it had often been done before, it is a fact of life that even true names could be outgrown and replaced, they were still new to their lesson’s with the Director but she had no reason to deny the request; from what they knew she never had before. That wasn’t what had scared them. It was that once it was done it would truly be done, over, ended. It was putting down in ink and paper that aimless blob of a feeling that seemed to expand in their chest like boiling water whenever they looked in a mirror to long, giving the nameless a name, catching it between their fingers and sanding down the endless bubbling expanse of it into something hard and round to tuck under their tongue like a baby tooth. 

What’s in a name? They had never been overfond of Shakespeare even though Nina ate and breathed it, but they still remember latching onto that line at nine, already hungry in a way they had only just begun to place. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet. 

In their first years at The Library they had never spared much thought towards the name they had arrived with, they understood vaguely that it was important, that it couldn’t be given out to strangers or else bad things would happen, that it’s existence in the pages of of the ledger was, in some unknowable way, tied to their existence in The Library. But that was the sum of it, they payed mind to the name when it was spoken the same way they payed mind when told to make their bed or brush their teeth in the morning; and in the meantime played an everevolving game with Nina on who could come up with the best alias to give out to the teachers and students that surrounded them. One of them would come across a new name in a story, or a tonguetwisting word in a dictionary, or a new animal neither of them had heard of before, and make a race to claim it as their “name” and be called by it first. They went through tens and twenties of different names in a week, trying to one up each other with the newest and grandest and prettiest ones they could find, keeping the originals folded in their pockets like rare trinkets, taken out only occasionally to be marvelled over and then quickly squirrelled away so as not to be overused. What exactly they had been called, words like he and she and you, didn't seem to matter so far as they knew to respond when they were said. 

It only began to matter once Pallas realized belatedly that it did matter, once they began attending serious classes and learned that words carried meaning beyond what was conjured in the moment by a child’s mind. Words carried weight, they carried history, words set boundaries and above all they defined. There was a word for everything and everything had a word and those words had lexicon and roots that spanned back centuries and were impossible to untangle. It was at once expansive and suffocating, both freeing and constricting, and they remember hardly being able to breathe under the impossible scope of it all. Narrow and yet endlessly wide. Sure, you could be anything you wanted, but you still had to be something at the end of the day. 

Afterwards they began to dissect and analyze literature the same way they began to dissect and anaylze their own reflection. They knew the science of a human body, skeleton and musculature and nervous system, but this was another thing entirely. Suddenly things they hadn’t cared about before, hadn’t noticed before they forced themselves into being known, began to topple out before them like dominos. The sudden feeling of wearing clothes far too small for you and only realizing once you go to breathe and find the collar tight around your throat. There had been something they’d missed, a crucial number skipped over in the equation, something wasn’t adding up. 

The worst of it was that Nina, who until then had almost been able to read their mind in their matching idiosyncrasies, didn’t seem to be able to see this in its fullness the way they did. She would listen and chew the inside of her cheek and ask questions and assure them that whatever they ended up doing was fine by her as long as they were happy. But it wasn’t the same, and she was smart enough to know that. That, above all else, could not stand.

So, naturally, it became an obsession. They tried to concentrate on other things, but the discordant feeling stayed, that itch under their skin they couldn’t shake, an edge almost like hunger sawing slowly away at the back of their mind. They took to rolling their first name over and over in their mind, thinking on it more than they ever had before. They lay on the floor and stared up at their hands, flexing them, closed their eyes tight and tried to name every part of their body from the ground up before considering the whole. Before being he or she had carried the same nonweight as everything else, so long as they knew which word it was correct to turn their head towards when someone was talking about them, and the original name had been the same. After they stared at themself in the mirror and and repeated it until it didn’t sound like a word at all anymore, trying to link the sound coming from their mouth to the face looking back at them, but in those moments both seemed to belong to a stranger.

They read viciously, constantly, they read with the desperation of a drowning man clinging to the last plank of his sunken ship. They found more words, more definitions, and caught themself staring at the blank spaces between the lines. They looked at the marble busts lining the fourth floor hallways and pressed a finger to cool stone lips, traced the sweeping curves of carefully carved brows and icy smooth cheeks. They wrote out the name on sheets and sheets of paper, wondering if pen and ink would reveal something they hadn’t yet been able to see and they had crouched in the bath with water up to their mouth, hair spread in inky plumes around them, and thought about how most ancient Greek statues had once been brightly painted but time and meddling had worn that away until nothing was left but bone white. Scoured and scraped clean. They thought of how anyone could possibly define that, and held their hand up to the light to see the tiny blue veins run through it like mycelium strings. 

And Pallas, thirteen and starving, thirteen and holding the whole what and who and why of themself in the palm of their hand, had curled the pale arches of their fingers into a fist, and pictured an endless, spinning, black hole.

[solomonssock]

Made my mc and I as sheep!! Ty @gracedcoup for this awesome picrew. If you want to make one, you can here!!