AN: So here it is—the Moulin Rouge AU nobody asked for lmao. But Come What May came on my playlist and this! would not! leave me! alone! I even had dreams about it smh. Again—why brain. Whyyyyyy.

Again, if you don't already know: major character death.

So ain't nobody saying I didn't warn you XD

"Brother," Amenadiel grasped his shoulder. "It's time."

"No," Lucifer whimpered, and only held her tighter.

They called her the Miracle of the Moulin Rouge, but all he ever saw was Chloe—a child of the Bohemian Revolution that had brought him topside in the first place, curious of the sinners dying for Freedom, Beauty, Truth and Love.

But he cared not for any of that—not when she was his most exquisite affliction… his deific absolution. His beauty.

His love.

Though one couldn't have foretold it from their initial contact—she being Pierce's gracious offering for his hefty investment in the Moulin Rouge's renaissance to proper theater. A sample of its premier star.

And Lucifer, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, was all too happy to oblige.

"What do you desire?" he had asked her as she straddled him.

"Why you, of course," she breathed, but it was strange—her tone saccharine, and her eyes, most troubling, hollow.

He rose to meet her.

"Something's wrong," he frowned. "Why don't you look at me with…"

Her gaze gave way to irritation—not exactly a mark-up in improvement, but he would take it over her haunting emptiness.

"With what?" she huffed.

"With carnal fascination!"

"That's cause it doesn't exist!"

Then there was panic as she stammered, "I—I mean—"

He stilled her jittery fingers, then tipped her chin so their stares would meet.

"What do you desire?" he tried again, grip tightening, "and don't lie. The Devil doesn't take kindly to charlatans."

"I'm a courtesan," she whispered. "I'm not at liberty to desire."

She seemed so old, then, so broken.

So lovely, in the way despondency clung to her, yet such hopeful fortitude in her depthless cerulean orbs, too.

Her melancholy called to his own ill-concealed vulnerabilities. It was then he forgot to wonder at her immunity to him, for he understood—

There was nothing he wouldn't do to set her free.

Perhaps she too recognized his loneliness. Something shifted in her mien as she settled onto her back beside him, time passing as they swapped secrets—comparing triumphs and tallying tragedies.

That was the night they surrendered to each other.

"I'm in love with the Devil," she murmured. "How the Hellspawn must lust for my torment."

"I've been bewitched by you. Snared by your honeyed lips and the nectar of your cunt. If anyone's in peril of torment, again," he buried himself to the hilt inside her with moan. "It is not you."

"Maybe," she gasped against his mouth. "But what sweet ecstasy there is to be had, as we fall to our damnation."

The months that followed were spent preparing—fucking, laughing, loving—among the eaves and pillars of the Moulin Rouge.

"What do you desire?" he sighed.

"To honor my mother, and be a real actress."

This, in lieu of her true longing to follow her father's footsteps—for women weren't allowed in law enforcement.

He did all in his power to nurture that passion that flamed her heart. Yet it became his ultimate downfall, when in his bliss he neglected to apprehend the insidious sickness that had been conquering her.

Until it was too late.

"Brother," Amenadiel grasped his shoulder. "It's time."

"No," Lucifer whimpered, and only held her tighter.

They called her the Miracle of the Moulin Rouge, but she was so much more than that.

How she loved to joke of her suffering in the afterlife, but he had known that the end of her mortal coil meant the end of their union. He just hadn't accounted for the candle of her life to extinguish so soon.

For she was light—pure, unfettered, empyreal light.

The likes even the Lightbringer had fallen to his knees for.

"I'm sorry," she muttered through blood-spattered lips. "It's okay. It's okay, Lucifer…"

"What do you desire?" he asked a final time, foreheads pressed together.

And in her truth only then did he find strength.

"To… be… free."

He let her go.

AN: Idek what this is. Idk what's happening to me lmao. If it seems like they fell in love too fast I mean, come on, have you seen Moulin Rouge hahaha.

Though... to be honest, I'm kind of warming up to the idea of expanding this? Like, Pierce as Zidler, Ella as Toulouse. Satine's consumption equal to Chloe's poisoning and instead of jealousy as the plot point it would be Lucifer finding out she is a miracle? Man oh man, the more I think about it, the more I like it.

But that's for another time lol Lord knows I don't need another WIP.

Here, watch Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's Moulin Rouge at PyeongChang 2018 | Music Mondays for some happy and tell me you don't love them. I dare you.

To Devil'sMiracle17 on your blind spot review: It was weird lmao but I don't think anyone could have said it better when you phrased it as, 'a succesfully fulfilled prompt' and I'm glad you enjoyed my play on the metaphor, weirdness notwithstanding hahaha. I totally agree with you, that entire cast is not kidding when they say they are a 'Lucifam' because their love for each other is so sweet and genuine and evident, like, there's no mistaking that sincerity so I can't help but let it influence my writing. Seriously, one of these days I'll be writing and Lucifer will call Chloe 'muffin' jokingly and there's not a damn thing I'll do to stop him haha. I love their friendship it's legi s. As always, as anxious as I was for your review on blind spot your continued faith and introspection has me grateful to have found a reader in you because of the way you unceasingly bolster my confidence with your superb and awesome and kind words. Thank you so much! If I ever get around to the pudding story, I might just take you up on that offer! See you soon, love!