Still Burning Cold;

Lucifer sighed, and there was a minute pinch just at the inside corner of his eyebrows. He was quiet for a long moment before he answered. 

“Are you.” it wasn’t a question. Lucifer took a gliding step forward, putting him in close proximity to Gabriel. He craned his head in a manner that was inhuman and serpentine-fluid.

Lucifer practically spat them, however, as they were spoken.  

He had mourned Gabriel. Wept bitterly over his brother’s death. Contemplated even going back and altering time to stop his mistake. He had been God’s most beloved son once, after all; second only to his creator, after all. There was precious little his grace was not capable of. He’d even watched himself murder his younger sibling. 

Over. 

and over. 

and over. 

And wept. 

And watched again. 

And again. 

Lucifer’s cheeks hollowed; his eyes slowly turned watered, and glassy. 

Then, he turned away. 

Lucifer turned on Gabriel then, and his eyes had gone the white-gray of a winter snowstorm, and glowing. He lifted his chin and regarded his brother before he spoke again. 

“What would you have me say to you, Gabriel? I am furious with you. Utterly. You stand and accuse me of callous disregard. And you do so because you do not know that when I thought you dead, I prayed to Our Father for the first time since this world was made, that he would smite me also. I did not want to endure in a universe without you in it.”

“And he was silent. And would not appease my guilt. Do you have any idea what that was like for me. . . ?”

“I don’t care about our family.” Lucifer’s tone was venomous, now. “Oh no Gabriel. You’re wrong. Everything I have ever done, is because I care. I stood on the day the world nearly ended, and I pleaded with Michael that we should not fight. I would lay down my blade for him, if he would also. I was even willing to spare the humans--well. Most of them--to keep from having the ending he wanted so badly.”

“He refused, Gabriel.”

Lucifer’s hurt started to boil up through the poison in his tone. 

Now Lucifer was giving Azazel a curious once over-how much did his fallen brother actually care for his vessel? That was the real question. Lucifer spotted the sentiment almost a second after he asked himself that same question. 

Though Azazel’s angelic senses still aren’t what they used to be, he’s almost certain he can feel some other familiar traces of grace around the area. Some almost intimately familiar.

But The Devil folded his hands in front of him to mimic the gesture of someone in patient waiting. 

“Michael does. He rarely enters the house; he keeps to the guest cottages on the other end of the grounds.” 

“Salomka, my wife. My blood son, Singer. A despondent Castiel that Sam nagged at me to rescue. He’s from another time; harmless; I wouldn’t be concerned.”

My Sam is strong enough to beat back Lucifer if Lu is too  much of an asshole. He has to have an anchor (Dean, Cas, or Baby), but he can do it. 

Lucifer was wary of this child; the air around him was cool and permeated with what felt like Lucifer’s own grace. 

Lucifer glided out to the balcony overlooking the grounds, the garden of which below seemed remarkably unaffected by the winter cold. Lucifer sat himself, but one of the staff demons of the house rushed ahead of Ciar to pull out a chair for their guest. 

My Sam is strong enough to beat back Lucifer if Lu is too  much of an asshole. He has to have an anchor (Dean, Cas, or Baby), but he can do it. 

Unless you’re one of the following people: 

-his brother Michael

-his brother Gabriel

-his wife or son (Salome or Singer)

-Raphael (established through RP)

-one of his loyalists (Azazel, Alastair, Ruby, Meg, ect)

 … there is absolutely no guarantee that Lucifer will like you or even be nice to your character. He despises and hates humans, feels betrayed by anyone who didn’t follow him in the fall, and loves demons even less than humans. 

If he’s nice to you, it’s because he thinks he can *use you for something*. Lucifer tolerates people at best, likes only a handful, and loves precious, precious few. He’s evil, manipulative, even abusive. He’s a sociopath at best. 

If this makes you uncomfortable, this might not be a good blog for you. 

Unless you’re one of the following people: 

-his brother Michael

-his brother Gabriel

-his wife or son (Salome or Singer)

-Raphael (established through RP)

-one of his loyalists (Azazel, Alastair, Ruby, Meg, ect)

 … there is absolutely no guarantee that Lucifer will like you or even be nice to your character. He despises and hates humans, feels betrayed by anyone who didn’t follow him in the fall, and loves demons even less than humans. 

If he’s nice to you, it’s because he thinks he can *use you for something*. Lucifer tolerates people at best, likes only a handful, and loves precious, precious few. He’s evil, manipulative, even abusive. He’s a sociopath at best. 

If this makes you uncomfortable, this might not be a good blog for you. 

DID YOU JUST MAKE A MAHJONG REFERENCE

LUCIFER DOESNT UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE LOVES ABOUT IT. 

“So. This time? We do things my way. It’s a good deal more subtle. But. All good things in time. I prefer the artful approach…much less cleaning up to do when it’s all said and done with.”

“I’m not about to leave your side after everything I did to try and get you out. Though I am curious if Sam is on board with me staying. I did completely destroy his family.”

Now Lucifer was giving Azazel a curious once over-how much did his fallen brother actually care for his vessel? That was the real question. Lucifer spotted the sentiment almost a second after he asked himself that same question. 

Lucifer sighed, and there was a minute pinch just at the inside corner of his eyebrows. He was quiet for a long moment before he answered. 

“Are you.” it wasn’t a question. Lucifer took a gliding step forward, putting him in close proximity to Gabriel. He craned his head in a manner that was inhuman and serpentine-fluid.

Lucifer practically spat them, however, as they were spoken.  

He had mourned Gabriel. Wept bitterly over his brother’s death. Contemplated even going back and altering time to stop his mistake. He had been God’s most beloved son once, after all; second only to his creator, after all. There was precious little his grace was not capable of. He’d even watched himself murder his younger sibling. 

Over. 

and over. 

and over. 

And wept. 

And watched again. 

And again. 

Lucifer’s cheeks hollowed; his eyes slowly turned watered, and glassy. 

Then, he turned away. 

Almost. 

Instead, The Devil only smoothed his hands down the breast of his expensive suit jacket, and tilted another small, forced smile. 

“So glad we understand one another, then.” though the devil saw one of the staff coming back with his drink. He held out his hand without removing his gaze from her, and the sparkling gin was set in it with no fanfare.

There was no tea to follow. 

Smile faded again, and now Lucifer’s eyes were almost glowing white in the iris.