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demonologistfucker · 3 years ago

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WIP Angel MC! x Obey Me pt 2

Part Two - The Museum date with Satan. This is just a ruff of what I got so far. I am enjoying this but i Haven’t had a lot of focus for writing. So I just wanna share what I got so far.

Step into the shoes of an intellectual. I know they are uncomfortable, but these are cushioned with a bias outside human prejudice. They have their own prejudices of course, it’s just not As silly as a humans…. Either way, it’s a different way of looking at history. There is no need to keep colonial powers looking refined and noble.

This museum is not full of anything Real. They are all magical replicas of artifacts long burned, brutalized and forgotten. While it could be enlightening to a great deal of humanity. The plaques mainly speak of the demons who worked along with those doing the burning. It left a rather sick feeling in the angel’s stomach. While showing off the great wonder that was ruined. People still boasted about causing the burning.

Satan did a better job explaining the history. He was detached. Thinking about the matter as a history, and could talk about it easily. Yet when he turned to MC. They had tears in their eyes. Thinking of what it felt like to just be a people, and slaughtered for living. The Angel felt the reality. Both marveling at the people who could create such art and monuments, and the utter despair at how this art came to the Angel’s eyes. So Eventually the Angel started to tune out the world around them, and focused more on their guide. A stranger who was still linked arms with MC.

“I have a question,” MC looks up into Satan’s eyes.

“I might have an answer,” The corner of Satan’s mouth pulled into a sharp smile.

“Do you view angels and demons as enemies?” MC watches Satan’s face closely. His eyebrows shot up for only a second. A brief flash of surprise, and then quickly to thought. His gaze drifting upwards as he rolled the matter over in his mind.

“I think about this a lot, actually,” Satan rubs his chin. “I’m unsure. We are certainly told that we are opposites, but if we looked at the data, I think we’d find something else.” Satan chews on the thought, “There is a whole research of study on whether good even exists, yet there is a realm that claims to obtain All Good. Or define what it is. Which is just ridiculous, and as you can see.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. “Demons are not raging beasts. Sin has its place in reality. Too much of it would be disastrous, true, but not enough would also be a problem.” Satan kept his gaze away from the Angel. Not truly wanting to see them get upset about his stance.

“Can you give me an example?” MC tilts their head. “No one’s talked about sin like that before.”

“Well… Let’s use wrath. Wrath being deemed a sin which is reasonable at first. Being angry and destructive is not helpful. However, wrath has been brought out to protect children, or to fight for justice. Wrath without thought is bad, but it is not bad in itself.” Satan glances at MC to see their expression. Then stays when he sees that MC is thinking it over.

“What matters is how it’s used.” MC says softly. To which Satan nods. “There are plenty of supposedly holy people who are really cruel to keep their virtues.” Now both MC and Satan are sharing a smile. “Some of those people really are the worst. They manage to live up to His standards and yet are still-” MC grits their teeth.

“Bastards? Fuckers?” Satan tries to keep a helpful face, but can’t help the corner of his mouth twitch up.

“Yes!” MC shakes their head to let out some frustration. “Then they summon me to bring them to the bathhouse.”

“You have to bring humans to bathhouses?”

“Where ever they want to go. It is their ‘paradise’ after all, and since I’m not a high ranking angel, so I’m basically supposed to care take for whatever human souls are around me.”

“That sounds… Infuriating.” Satan says politely. He’s overjoyed to see the Angel seething with annoyance, but then something drowns it out. Their face falls and goes back to a placid expression.

“It’s the duty of an angel.” MC’s voice is dryer than before.

“Hmm…” Satan realizes he shouldn’t be staring at the Angel and looks back to whatever exhibit they had landed in front of. “Do you like your duties?”

“Do you like yours?” The Angel looks blankly ahead.

“Ours are very different. I simply Am the avatar. I can spend my days reading and be finishing my duty.”

“Really?” MC looks up in surprises.

“Well, sorta of,” Satan chuckles. “I have RAD duties I can’t get out of, But that’s my choice in the end. I respect Diavolo enough to agree to his leadership, and RAD is his domain, so I do it for him.” Satan shrugs. “They don’t take up too much time for an immortal anyways.”

“That’s… so different from Heaven. I get maybe five hours to myself a day?” MC can’t even give an accurate number. Keeping track just makes it worse. “It’s all preselected work, too. We have no choice it what domains we’re put under.”

“No choice at all?”

“Supposedly it’s from the Divine plan,” MC rolls their eyes. “But I’m unsure of it.”

“No plan is ever perfect, let alone one made from one mind alone.” Even as Satan says this, he is prepared for a fight. His few conversations with angel’s before him had always ended in one. Angels devoted their existences to this divine plan. Critiquing it was a critique of everything they stood for. Instead, MC just nods. Their eyes overwhelmed in sadness. So Satan takes a deep breath and refocuses on the world around them.

“It is amazing what humans are able to turn rocks into,” Satan looks at the old stone statue with amazement.

“I’ve tried to do it before, and I can never manage.” MC tapped their chin as they reminisced. “They can make rock smooth, as if they were just pinching clay.”

“I can’t even work clay well.” Satan chuckles. Then there is silence as MC’s mind wanders down a bunny trail.

“Earlier they said that I would be attending school, is that true?” Satan nods. “Weird,” MC begins to laugh.

“Why do you laugh? I will also be attending.” Satan says this even though he finds the whole school situation fairly fun himself. Still remembers the dinner when Lucifer broke the news that joining RAD also meant having to go through university again. They had completed their courses millennia ago. Satan was honestly a little excited. Brushing up his skills wouldn’t be the worst time. Though, all the other students sounded rather stressful.

“It will be curious. I didn’t expect to be introduced to Hell this way. It’s just… Okay, you’ll understand if I tell you how I imagine this, Exchange, would go in the Celestial realm.” Satan nods and leans back. Ready to listen. “Greeted with trumpets, obviously.” Satan rolls his eyes. “Then a personal conversation with It.” This makes Satan chuckle. “Then guided around the Celestial realm to all its numerous wonders. Shown the polished paradise where you can indulge in Nearly anything.” MC lifts a finger up with a crooked grin. “Though, you Can’t be a sinner, so you must be nice to Everyone you meet. No matter how annoying. If an Issue arises, you have to bring it up at court, and have it processed. It’s worse for angels, but guests wouldn’t see that. It would take months to see the court bit anyway. It would all be Sickly sweet.”

“And here you met a busy prince, told you had to go to school, and left to get eaten.” Satan keeps his head forward, but glances to see the angel’s reaction.

“I’m enjoying it a lot.” MC smiles.

“Not worried about your safety?”

“Not Much,” MC Shrugs. “I don’t think I’ll be totally helpless,” Then MC looks to Satan’s face. Which seems to loudly be saying ‘okay, tell yourself that sweetheart’. “Do you think I should worry?”

“I think it was wise that you asked for a guide,”

“Me to,” MC smiled, “I like your company.” MC pulls the hand they have clasped with Satan’s closer. For a moment, holding Satan against them. Letting their wing brush against his back. Then MC eases back. Failing to hide a blush that ran across their face. “ Just don’t imagine me helpless.”

“I could never.” Satan smiles softly. “I am the Avatar of wrath after all, and as I can tell.” He looks down at his open hand. Pretending to hold a board. “You have indulged in my sin at least six times.” A humorously low number for Satan. The average human indulged in it at least 50 times by their first birthday. That’s for a remarkably well tempered child, too.

“That high?” MC winces, but then straightens their spines. Remember Why that had indulged, and feeling proud of that choice.

“That is very low, and I think it would be good for your health to indulge in it a little more.”

“Is this how you became friends with Alexander?”

“It’s how I became much more than friends, Dear.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. Looking utterly too proud of himself. MC grimace only deepened as they felt their face heat up. They are saved by an alert on Satan’s D.D.D. “I am afraid I have dinner soon. Your human roommate will be at purgatory hall for dinner, though. I can walk you back if you like?” Satan looks rather annoyed at his phone, but his face relaxes as he looks at MC.

“That would be nice,” MC smiles and can feel the heat once again rise in their face and chest. “What on your D.D.D made you so upset?”

“Oh, you could see that?” Satan looks rather apologetic.

“Clear as day, man,” MC has to try and not laugh.

“The message came from Lucifer,” Again he says the name with such disgust. MC wants to giggle. “He was reminded I must come to dinner and meet the new human.”

“The face you just made,” MC has to put a hand over their mouth. Thankfully, they were almost out of the museum. But on the way on they got a couple glares from the Serious Observers. “What about this new human is so upsetting?”

“Oh it’s not them,” Satan grimaces, but then straightens his spine.

“Then what is it?”

“The process of picking was idiotic. It took four years for them to finally decided on what three humans to pick. The last one was completely random, it turns out.” Satan takes a deep breath. “I left the project after the first human was picked.”

“Who are they?”

“Solomon.” Satan says with a grimace. Left is a gentle way of putting what Satan did when Solomon was picked. The table was thrown through the wall and Satan marched out through the hole.

“Who?”

“You don’t know? Oh, right… Angel wouldn’t hear about him, I guess.” Satan chews on his lip for a second. “He is an ancient king who managed to get pacts with 72 demons, and accidentally became immortal.” Satan’s has a great number of suspicions about Solomon. There are barely any humans who have One pact with a demon. Yet this human managed to get 72, and immortality. While also maintaining a beloved relationship with a great number of people. To Satan, this reeked of evil in hiding. “He’s also a super powerful wizard and has gone through the university magic program so many times he rewrote a portion of it.”

“So that’s who they picked to show off the magical prowess, huh?”

“It doesn’t even work,” Satan groans. Satan had sat through hours of meetings debating which humans to brings, and how their presence would affect the experience for Other humans in the trip. They fisted wanted a human who had some understanding of the magical to be a grounding force for the other two. Satan had many suggestions of Other magicians who could do a job. Magicians who did have 72 pacts with demons. One of whom being his younger Sibling. “We should have picked a human who could actually use the program. He was a powerful magician before coming to our school. He used it to have fun and meet people.“

“So he’s open to fun?” MC bounces slightly as they walk.

“He can be… but he’s often looking out for himself first.” Since Satan so clearly distrusts Solomon. MC chooses to ignore this, and instead is excited to meet this weird wizard.

“Ah, prioritizing ones own needs. The gift of the ego… that we all have.” MC smirks. Feeling that MC was poking fun at Satan. He bristled and turned a lovely read.

“It’s not just ego,” Satan huffs. “How could he make so many pacts without being devious?”

“I don’t know,” MC shrugs. “Have you asked him?”

“No,” Satan looks aghast. “He’s a cunning being, I can’t just ask him.”

“I’ve heard cunning humans can be the most fun,” MC is now starting to walk back to campus with a little more speed.

“Who would say that?” Satan looks bewildered at the little angel.

“Simeon,” MC says, unbothered by Satan’s judgement.

“He enjoys Lucifer’s company, I would not blindly trust Simeon’s taste.” Satan’s lip curls upward when he mentions Lucifer. MC thought on the matter. Simeon had given Lucifer a hug. When it was rather clear that Lucifer was Not a hugger.

“Do you know if Simeon and Lucifer know each other? I’ve never heard Simeon talk about him, but it’s also frowned upon to talk about him in general.”

“I wouldn’t know, but Lucifer did spend the most time in heaven out of all of us,”

“Ah, who’s Us?”

“Oh my brothers,” Satan sighs, “They might know if Simeon and Lucifer have a history, but I won’t be asking for you.”

“That’s fair,” MC nods.

“Do they not talk about the revolution in the celestial realm?”

“Only brief mention. He doesn’t like it being brought up so… most just avoid the topic. I really don’t know much about it.”

“Hmm,” Satan frowns. He didn’t want to strike Lucifer’s ego, but what he did is important history. “I might have some history books you could borrow if you’d like.” It was strange being confronted with the Angel’s reality. Satan couldn’t imagine a life without living in the shadow of that revolution. His exists was born from its grief and agony, and this Angel knew of it only in passing. Did that mean they didn’t know his history at all?

“Oh, that would be nice, but” The Angel blushes and closes their eyes.” I’m not the best of readers. My eyes get distracted?”

“I have heard of conditions similar to that,” Satan nods, “Well the topic is a heavy one, but if you wanted I could explain our side of the history some time.” They were now walking down the path to Purgatory hall. Satan felt is stomach dip at the thought of leaving. Next would be a dinner of more polite conversation. With the chance, he’d be living with two new assholes now. “If you wanted I could put my contact in your D.D.D. That way we can schedule, and If you need a guide again-” His words faltered as the blush becomes too hot.

“I would like that very much.” MC Smiles and hands over their D.D.D.

“Oh-” Satan just finished it with a smile, and then takes the D.D.D. With thin fingers he types it all in. “I do have a schedule, so I can’t be your guide always but,” Satan looks into the Angel’s eyes, and feels his heart get stuck in his throat. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“I definitely won’t,” MC says, even though their heart was starting to race. MC stumbled as they hit the first steps up into Purgatory hall. “Thank you for taking me around.” MC’s wings flutter slightly, trying to dispel anxiety. “It was really nice getting to know you.”

“It was truly a pleasure,” Satan smiles, and then bows low to the Angel. As he rises, he keeps his eyes steady with MC’s gaze. There is a heartbeat where they are both caught staring at each other. Satan should be going home now, and the Angel should be heading inside. Instead, they both linger. Feeling their hearts surging in their chests, and wondering what they can possibly do about it. “I hope you enjoy your dinner,” Satan regrets the words instantly, but his feet are already moving to walk away.

“You to!” The Angel blurts, feeling horribly awkward, but also thrilled. The nerves of wanting to make a good impression. As they watched the elegant blond walk away. MC could still feel excitement brewing within them.

The feeling lingered as MC walked into the main doors of Purgatory Hall. Already they could feel that something was different within the building. A new presence shifted the home's energy. The air now had the smell of a laboratory. MC wandered down the hall till they reached the kitchen. Which is where they found Simeon, Luke, and a stranger gathered around the Oven. The Stranger was tall with bright white hair. The light in his eyes was unmistakably human, but something was off.

“Are you certain it’s supposed to look like that?” Simeon squinted at the Oven.

“I have never done this before,” The Strange says easily, but both Simeon and Luke look utterly terrified.

“What’s going on?” MC asks as they walk behind Luke to get a view of what’s going on. “Why is it...cracked?”

“I believe that’s a part of the baking process,” The stranger smiles warmly and then extend a hand to MC. “My name’s Solomon, I am the human exchange student who will be living with you three.”

“I’m MC,” They take Solomon’s hand. His hand is surprisingly dense and cold. Heavier than the Angel had expected. “I thought there were three humans?”

“Indeed, but the other humans get to live with the brothers.” Solomon sighs. “I still don’t understand why they get to be close to the princes of Hell and not me.” Solomon actually did have a guess why, but he wanted to pout about it.

“Do you want to hear Lucifer and Mammon fighting with each other all the time?” Simeon chuckles.

“That’s a fair point,” Solomon nods. “Not to seem like I’m complaining about being with you three,” MC hadn’t even considered that Solomon might not be happy to be staying with three angels. Now though they had to think about it. A man with 72 pacts with demons might not have the most favorable opinion of angels. MC couldn’t exactly blame him for this, but hoped it wouldn’t get in their way.

“I think our company is much better than those demons,” Luke tilts up his chin given everyone a good look of his nostrils.

“Not better,” Simeon tuts, “we our own kind of fun, and will still have plenty of time with the brothers if we choose.”

“You like them?” Solomon eyes Simeon.

“Yes,” Simeon smiles genuinely. “I am really happy to see them again.” Solomon nods, and then smiles himself.

“Me too,”

#wip #angel!mc #obey me #obey me satan #my writing

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destieltropecollection · 5 years ago

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Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 5: Case Fic

Fearful | @deansrightfulangerissue

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1430 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, IT Crossover, Angst Summary: It comes for children, it feeds on their fears. Dean and Cas arrive to end its reign of terror.

He Wanted More (WIP) | @becky-srs

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1621 Main Tags/Warnings: #HeWantedMore #Destiel Summary: After years of self-denying and depressing Dean realized he's in love with Cas. Cas loves him too but this two morons won't see it, until Sam takes of with Eileen to a romantic vacation and put Dean and Cas on a case with a monster who kills gay couples what takes them to be an undercover couple... may the cover fall and revel their true feelings?

Curse me | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3099 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean loves balett!! Summary: Dean had always loved ballet, even though he never told anyone about that. When he and Sam find cursed ballet shoes, Dean can’t resist and tries them on anyway. He gets surprised in more than just one way.

Lost and Found | @unforth & @deansrightfulangerissue

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4885 Main Tags/Warnings: Horror, Ambiguous Ending, Memory Alteration Summary: Dean and Sam's hunt in a haunted forest was bullshit from the moment the fog rolled in. And then the ghost silenced the world.

On This Night | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5688 Main Tags/Warnings: case fic, djinn, fluff, dean knows his tropes Summary: Something goes terribly wrong while hunting a djinn. Newly-human Cas had never considered what the effects of djinn poison could be for a human, and struggles to remember why everything seems just so slightly off when he wakes up back at the cabin he and Dean had been staying in during the hunt. The cabin has been transformed with holiday decorations, and Cas wonders just how long he'd been unconscious. Only when he tries to get answers from Dean, reality comes crashing back in on them both, in the best of all possible ways.

Heavenly Flavor | @songbird211

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7190 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time/Fluff/lust monster/Sam Ships It/Anal/Blowjobs/Nipple Play/Top Dean/Top Cas/Bottom Dean/Bottom Cas/Voyeurism/Wing Kink/Love Confession Summary: During a case involving college men going missing Dean and Cas are taken by the creature responsible. This creature loves having sex with humans, hence the kidnappings, but this time she wants to fulfill her fantasy of watching two men have sex and she thinks Dean and Cas will do nicely.

The Unexpected Consequences of Amnesia | @pray4jensen

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10539 Main Tags/Warnings: Casefic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Secret Relationship, Miscommunication, Dubious Consent Summary: When a spell backfires and results in Sam losing a year’s worth of memories, Sam’s really not that worried. After all, Dean reassures him that he hasn’t missed much and for the first time in a long time, the supernatural world’s at peace. Except then Dean and Cas exchange a look. Except then Sam keeps seeing them sneak around at night, into each other’s bedrooms, or whispering stealthily into each other’s ears whenever they think that he’s not looking. So naturally, Sam just has to investigate. Or the one where Sam obliviously and almost single-handedly brings about the collapse of Dean and Cas’ marriage in the span of one week.

Angeleech | @noiproksa

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 14457 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, Team Free Will, Hugs, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Castiel, Banter, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, Case Fic Summary: It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but then everything goes sideways. Dean and Sam have to take care of an injured Cas and find out what is going on with the angel before it is too late. (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Ten Inch Hero | @banshee1013

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16689 Main Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Witch Curses, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Researching Sam Winchester, No Archive Warnings Summary: After returning from Purgatory the second time, Castiel and Dean were just beginning to explore the new direction of their relationship, when on a case involving missing hunters, Dean is struck by a witch's curse and turned into a ten-inch plastic figurine. Can Sam find a way to revert the effects of the curse and return Dean to himself before the tiny spark of life Cas detects in him fades away? Or will Cas lose Dean just as their relationship has begun?

Trouble in Paradise | @its-funnier-in-klingon

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1746 Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergence, human!Cas, post 14x09, Hawaii, case fic, bed-sharing, ghosts, mutual pining Summary: Sam finds a case where gay couples are being tormented by a ghost in a resort in Kauai, Hawaii. Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack embark to the resort where Dean and Cas must go undercover to take down the ghost, all while trying to sort through all their own personal issues.

Unthought Known | @noiproksa

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 18337 Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Amnesia, Profound Bond, Team Free Will, Banter, Canon Compliant, Hugs, Case Fic, Soul Bond Summary: Dean wakes up in an abandoned mental institution with no memories and two strange guys, ‘Sam’ and ‘Castiel.’ They have to work together if they want to find out who they are and what happened to them. And what the hell is this profound bond he seems to share with Castiel? * Dean woke up with a pounding headache on the floor of a bright white, windowless room and no recollection of how he got there. What the hell was he doing in what looked like some sort of psych ward? Before he could get his bearings, he heard moaning coming from behind him and got to his feet, swiveling around, ready to fight whoever was in the room with him. ‘Whoever’ turned out to be two someones. One man with abnormally long hair and one guy in a trench coat who had a ‘tax accountant’ vibe to him. Who were these clowns? (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Suck It, Judy Garland | @midrashic

Rating: Mature Word Count: 20116 Main Tags/Warnings: N/A Summary: It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

Making it Up as We Go | @Foxymoley

Rating: Mature Word Count: 24439 Main Tags/Warnings: Case fic, ghost, Angel!Cas, choose your own adventure Summary: A choose your own adventure story! The Winchester's catch a case—an ordinary salt and burn—but Dean's decisions along the way are up to you!

The Memory Remains | FriendofCarlotta (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 28408 Main Tags/Warnings: Case fic, post-canon, POV Dean Winchester Summary: With Chuck defeated, Dean's trying hard to get his head back in the game. What he needs is a bit of peace and quiet, and maybe a nice, straightforward hunt. What he most definitely doesn't need is this thing about monsters trying to summon some kind of hermaphroditic goat person. Or dealing with Cas, whose powers are still failing and who is acting more human in increasingly disconcerting ways.

Human Error | @jemariel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 33435 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate season 9, case fic, wendigos, human Castiel, Cas in the bunker, miscommunication, drunk sex, top!Dean, bottom!Cas, 69 (sex position), bedsharing Summary: Cas is human now, and things aren't going to plan. (Not that Dean had a plan. Nope. No plans of any kind.) Anyway, what's a Winchester to do when everything he tries seems to blow up in his face? Go hunting. Obviously.

Fade to Hell | @alisuwink **Also in English**

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 37549 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester,Alastair (Supernatural), Bobby Singer, Slow Burn, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Season/Series 05, Fanart, Action/Adventure, Violence, Dark, Humor, Hell, Tortured Dean Winchester, Madness, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: It didn’t seem to be enough with Lucifer wandering free and the Apocalypse up our asses. Of course not! Now, Sammy’s soul has ended in fucking Hell, and I have no choice but to go down to that fucking hole with Castiel. When we rescue Sam, he is going to be buying me beers for the rest of his damn life. *Note: the fic is finished in Spanish, I'll have it in English by June.

Highway 9 | @ellis-park

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 38909 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, suicide attempt Summary: Dean Winchester is a private investigator working what should be an open-and-shut vandalism case on an isolated stretch of rural highway. Except it’s not an open-and-shut case, because whatever is happening on Highway 9 isn’t vandalism — it’s something far more sinister and unnatural. And if Dean is going to get to the bottom of this case, he’s going to have to rely on the one person he’s learned he can’t rely on for anything — his ex-best friend, Cas Novak.

Someone Who’s Feeling for Me | @ellis-park

Rating: Mature Word Count: 45876 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, case fic, canon universe Summary: Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight. Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away. Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

Silver and Cold | @pomegranatedaffodil

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 64851 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Hunter Castiel, Small Town Setting, Religious Themes, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Minor Character Death,Tragic Backstory, Nightmares, Angst with a Happy Ending, Switching Summary: The death of a young man in an apparent animal attack brings hunter Cas Novak to the small town of Sydnam, Maine. It doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s tracking a werewolf, but discovering the killer’s identity is no easy task. All signs point towards Dean Winchester, a lonely recluse who lives in the middle of the woods and whose antagonistic behaviour does little to lessen Cas’ suspicions. As the investigation drags on, their mutual distrust gives way to a wary alliance. Cas’ instincts warn him that Dean is hiding something, but as he uncovers the man beneath the mystery, his professional interest becomes far more personal. Praying his faith in Dean isn’t misplaced, Cas races to catch the killer before the next full moon rises and another life is abruptly cut short.

#destiel trope collection 2020 #destiel trope collection #Destiel #case fic #day 5

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evak-fic-rec-turtleanon · 5 years ago

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Evak Fics - Soulmates AU

The Soulmates au list. Plus an extra Jokael fic. WIPs are at the end. Under a read more:

***** SOULMATES *****

We can be soulmates by sleepinggiant (SERIES, 2 fics) - After you meet your soulmate, marks that appear on their skin appear on your skin too.

Life is a beautiful thing by skampanda (524 words) - They didn't just survive through life, they lived it. They had so much passion and excitement in their lives. They had each other.

in every universe by queerness (632 words) - The first time your soulmate touches you, a handprint stays there for the rest of your life

Handsome Mystery Boy by waitineedaname (1.3k words) - You need to know your soulmate's name before it can appear on your arm. Coffee shop au.

New Year's Minute by killercatchy (1.5k words) - Alternate universe where you have a timestamp of when you’ll meet your soulmate. The first minute of every year, you spend in your soulmates body.

Show me your true colors by NikiNixie (1.5k words) - A soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns into millions of colors once they do.

du er ikke alene by TheGhostOfMe (1.9k words) - soulmate tattoo

you've been scared of love (and what it did to you) by voidskam (1.9k words) - you're born with a specific eye color, but when you meet your soulmate, both your eyes change into a beautiful color that show you have found your soulmate.

In another life, my dear, by HeartbeatsAreMySymphony (2k words) - countdown to when you meet your soulmate appear on your wrist. a twist on the soulmate trope. warning: it's pretty angsty.

spend more time with you by hippopotamus (2.1k words) - isak accidentally freezes time trying to prove even wrong about his ability to reverse it.

seen it all in paper dreams by hippopotamus (2.2k words) - soulmate au where your world turns colourful when you hear your soulmate's voice

When I Kiss Your Soul by jinglebin (2.5k words) - Even's soulmate wasn't who he had expected or hoped it would be. Your soulmate's name appears on your wrist when you think of them. Enemies to lovers.

In This Universe and the Next by bettertoflee (2.5k words) - For the longest time, Isak avoided looking at the name that appeared on his underarm

Real Eyes by SuddenTempest (2.9k words) - au where your right eye is your own natural eye colour but your left is the colour of your soulmate's. It is only once that you meet and recognize your own eye staring back at you that your eyes change to match.

keeping me close to you by alotofphandoms (2.9k words) - Isak and Even are soulmates with shared skin. Any mark made on them shows up on the other.

something lonesome, something so wholesome by hippopotamus (3.2k words) - au where there's a tattoo on your skin that can move around, and when you find your soulmate it can move onto them too. They are animal tattoos!

the threads that bind us by everythingislove (straykid) (3.3k words) - The silver thread appears on his third birthday, tied perfectly around his wrist. He doesn’t remember much about the moment apart from his mother’s tears, and the way his father’s eyes screamed ‘disappointment.’

Of Ocean and Sky by RamblingWithFantasy (3.5k words) - An ancient legend says that the islanders will find their soulmates for the first time on the way back home, someday.

the red thread by thekardemomme (3.5k words) - every time you lie to your soulmate it shows up on their skin. 5+1 things

The clock is ticking by writtenpeach (3.6k words) - A story about how Isak fell into the arms of his soulmate. Countdown to meeting your soulmate.

The Worst Soulmate by kaleidxscope (4.1k words) - Tattoo of the first words you hear from your soulmate. Unfortunately for Isak, his soulmate spoils Star Wars for him.

do right by you by puddingandpie (4.6k words) - an au where you swap bodies with your soulmate

Some of it is transcendental, some of it is just really dumb by r0nj4 (4.9k words) - It’s a place he’s been before, except he knows that it’s not. It’s a rush of endorphins and electricity and bright lights. “Do you think it’s happening?” Jonas asks.

(oh damn) never seen that colour blue by colazitron (4.9k words) - Isak has soulmarks. Lots of them. They are like freckles and they glow.

Shall I Find No Other by ultimatelawrence (5.4k words) - Everyone is born with a compass on their body, inked into their skin and commonly on their inner left arm. Instead of pointing to north, the needle on the compass points in the direction of your true soulmate.

The Imaginative Friend Syndrome by wyoheartsmusic (5.6k words) - Five times Isak and Even communicate in their heads and one time they communicate in person

i always knew by GayaIsANerd (5.7k words) - au where you get dreams of what your soulmate is experiencing.

let's not waste it feeling wrong by prettyisak (6.9k words) - Instead of your soulmate's first words to you written on your skin, it's the last words you ever hear them say, so you don't know who your soulmate is until you lose them. Warning: Angsty. Please read the tags.

flickered in my mind for only you by shadeandadidas (8.2k words) - But even the lonely nights hearing his mom cry for his dad couldn’t stop Isak from tracing the words (looped, like maybe his soul mate was an artist or a writer) etched permanently onto his skin.

Is This Our Time? by Evakkk (9.9k words) - This is a world where everyone is born with an indistinguishable soulmate mark... it only changes into something recognizable, once you have physical contact with your soulmate, and it's always something meaningful to the relationship. Both partners will bear the same mark. Isak is about to turn 18... and he's the only one in his friend group who still hasn't found their soulmate. But what happens when he goes out one night, gets drunk... and wakes up with his soulmate mark?

undisclosed desires in your heart by owilde (10k words) - It would be just a massive joke if Isak somehow ended up having a soulmate. He doesn't even want one, not really. It's silly. If Isak wants to date someone, he can find a girlfriend on his own, thank you very much.

our souls aren't strangers by everythingislove (straykid) (10k words) - The six times Isak and Even can't get it together, and the one time they already are. Or a childhood friends and soulmates au

Isak and Even: everything at once by imissedyourskin (10k words) - “yes. I used to see in black and white. Your dad used to see in colour. And then we met each other and we saw everything at once. It made me see colour and made your dad see black and white. That is what happens when you meet your soulmate.”

A Winter Dream by flyingonthewind (11k words) - Set in a world where soulmates are found by the touch of skin, Isak navigates life alone. At least he did until some drunk guy spilled beer all over him on the tram.

Love Is The Drug For Me by mccolfer (12k words) - The soulmate mark system is one that is full of flaws and uncertainty. Sure, most of the time you and your soulmate had each other's names and you'd meet and fall in love and be together forever. But sometimes the marks aren't mutual. Sometimes the name on your wrist is so common that you don't know who your soulmate is. Sometimes you don't fall in love with your soulmate, rather they're just your best friend. It's not always as clear cut as it's supposed to be.

In this universe, in different times. by Bewa (12.9k words) - When two souls are separated by the Big Bang, they will forever search for the other until they finally are reunited.

Taraxacum by GayaIsANerd (15k words) - Isak would never say this out loud, but he’s a hopeless romantic. His mother told him stories about the soulbond, how everyone was born with a symbol somewhere on their bodies, linking them to someone else, somewhere in the universe. These symbols were a representation of the soulmates’ souls.

Lost & bound by hjertetssunnegalskap (Crazyheart) (16k words) - Even has been in a bicycle accident and he has lost his memory of the past three years. However, Isak gets a shock when Even tells him that they’re bonded soulmates, and expects them to be a couple.

Trollbundet/Spellbound by Crazyheart (16k words) - A summer fling soulmate AU. Isak has graduated from Nissen and he’s attending Trolsk (Enchanting), an alternative Fair/music festival with his friends. When he meets a guy called Even, they bond. However, Even is reluctant about bonding. Is a summer fling all they will have?

Not the End by nofeartina (16k words) - Sometimes a connection is so powerful that it can bend the fabric of space and time. Or the parallel universe AU where Isak and Even find each other over and over again.

Making shades of purple by rumpelsnorcack (22k words) - The soulmark changes based on the soulmate's emotions. When their left hands touch, the soulmate bond connects.

beautiful people will ruin your life by traumatic (22k words) - au where two people can communicate solely by writing on their skin, Isak and Even are the best of friends until a lie burrows its way between them and nearly rips them apart.

Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking by staylucky (25k words) - The Afterlife is not what Isak Valtersen was expecting. He didn’t think he’d die at 18 years old in the first place. Purgatory’s ‘Apprentice Leader’, Eskild, is a wildcard, Isak's 'Angel Mentor' Noora doesn’t like Isak and he never got to even a kiss boy while he was on Earth. Thank Goodness, while he waits for reincarnation, for Jonas (another’s mentor) who takes Isak under his (literal) wing but most of all for fellow spirit and member of ‘Limbo Land’ Even Bech Naesheim, a beautiful boy with a past of his own. All isn’t what it seems, and Isak has a lot to discover.

Bittersweet Markings by BreeTaylor (26k words) - Isak's soulmate wanted nothing to do with him. Their skin was a shared canvas, but his soulmate seemed to hate every word Isak wrote. Isak's soulmate had a habit of drawing butterflies on his forearms. Isak never really understood what it meant, but when Vilde started showing up to school with them, too, he didn't waste any time in finding out.

You Make My Heart Soar by missmarymakeup93 (32k words) - Soulmates have basically become extinct. But one chance encounter has Isak in a mess of emotions. Especially when magical marks start appearing on his body.

Just your average ordinary everyday Superhero by vorfm95 (34k words) - Isak works for the governament fixing the chaos caused by the Yeti a young superhero who protects the streets of Oslo. The last words he'll hear from his soulmate is engraved on his arm.

we can take the long way home by Treehouse (37k words) - When he gently puts his hand on the right side of his stomach, the skin is burning hot and feels rugged underneath his fingertips, and when he lifts the cover to look he sees a dark patch there, about the size of his palm. He freezes, has to close his eyes for a moment. Surely, it can’t be, not this soon? But when he looks again, he’s sure. He’s gotten a mark. He’s only been eighteen for about a month, haven’t even had the time to start worrying about it yet.

Colours Speak Louder Than Words by BreeTaylor (39k words) - (9/10 chapters posted) "Colour changes the way we see the world, Isak." Everybody sees the world in greyscale until they meet their soulmate.

For His Love to Flee by wyoheartsmusic (48k words) - in a world where vampires hide, two lost souls find each other. enemies to lovers

(2017/18) tender (is the night) by towonderland72 (kittpurrson) (49k words) - Reuploaded in 2020. His whole body aches, like he’s regrown his limbs overnight, stretched out muscles he never knew he had. Isak knows, in that moment, that his life has just been turned upside down. “You bonded,” Even’s girlfriend confirms, and the pity in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “Try not to move.” The one where Isak and Even accidentally soulbond.

Lost to the Sea by Flatfootmonster (73k words) - Isak doesn't yet know who he is, or who he even want's to be. Even is indebted to the land and living in human form, despite his very nature demanding he return to the sea. Both beings crave belonging and a need to be seen, if only by one other set of eyes.

Burning For Your Touch by cuteandtwisted (221k words) - (16/17 chapters posted) Isak's skin burns anyone that comes into contact with it and therefore cannot be touched. Closed off and extremely manipulative, Isak transfers to Bakka and scares everyone away with his condition. Everyone but Even.

*** BONUS JOKAEL *** because it's cute

Seeing Color by waitineedaname (3.3k words) - He didn't ever expect he'd meet his soulmate in the middle of a fist-fight.

******** WIPs ********

Everything has changed but your eyes by onlydeadsoulscantdance (posted in Feb 2019)

twin reflections of kindred spirits by devonthemenace (last update May 2017)

Hold On (If Love Is The Answer) by silkeborgriver (posted in April 2019)

It Was Always Supposed to Happen Like This by Darwig3 (last update Jan 2017)

Living With the Uncertainty by kitsunechikyu (last update on June 2017)

The saddest people smile the brightest by vorfm95 (last update in Feb 2019)

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing by i_once_wrote_a_dream (last update in May 2019)

Princes and Stars by CrochetingWords (last update in Oct 2018)

cut off my fingers to touch your smile by bbyfruit (last update in Sept 2018)

These Mountains To Move by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (last update in Oct 2017)

this world was built for two by twentyonedani (last update in May 2019)

Crystal Dust by Liolny (last update in Feb 2019)

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #soulmates au

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dramioneasks · 6 years ago

Text

Christmas Fics (2018) (Part 7):

The Best Christmas Present Ever by Proxima Shining - K+, one-shot - When their son Draco married the Muggle-born Hermione Granger, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy erased him from their lives. But how can the two proud pure-bloods keep their resolution when their little granddaughter is so cute? Especially when it's Christmas time.

A Very Merry Christmas by jellibeans1776 - T, one-shot - Hermione spends the night with Draco and gets a surprise of a life time.

All I Want For Christmas by Dazzlious - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy asks Father Christmas for an impossible gift.

Christmas With Friends by Bmcenroe132 - T, one-shot - Harry was the only Family she had left. Hermione couldn't help but wish for something more. Maybe she might get her wish when Draco comes for Christmas.

Purgatory by SweetSerenity - T, WIP - When Hermione is assigned to the Department of Extraneous Papers as a punishment, she discovers her new colleague is Draco Malfoy. The two of them hatch a scheme that sends the Ministry into chaos over Christmas. Luckily, their office is a magic-free bunker in the basements of the Ministry, where they can hide from the outside world.

Understand by CaptainErica - T, one-shot - Hermione is a step closer to understanding, but only because she's aware that she doesn't.

Red Reindeer by Kateli - G, one-shot - Red and gold, silver and green. The red reindeer meant URGENT, and that was the color parchment that had gotten tangled in Hermione's thick, bushy hair in its excitement to deliver a very important message.Hermione helps a coworker plan a holiday concert for charity.

Twelve Days of Christmas War by Frumpologist, MykEsprit - T, one-shot - Pansy, Theo, and Blaise demand an end to Draco and Hermione’s incessant competition after they nearly ruin their monthly game night. When Hermione and Draco agree on one, final competition - winner takes all - the Twelve Days of Christmas War begins.

Unexpected Gifts, Plus More by RooOJoy, Rosella_Burgundy - T, one-shot - In attempt to make Hermione happy for Christmas, Draco follows Harry's advice to the letter and ends up surprising both Hermione and himself.

The 13th Christmas by LittleSixx - T, one-shot - Hermione signs up for an anonymous dating service during eighth year, and when she asked her match for "twelve days of Christmas" something may have gotten lost in interpretation.

Chance Gatherings by ThatOneGoodWriter - K+, one-shot - It's Christmas and Hermione and Draco are both stuck in Hogwarts. Dramione fluff. One-Shot.

Chains Forged in Life by TheMourningMadam - M, one-shot - Alone in Azkaban on Christmas Eve, Draco Malfoy is haunted by three spirits who came to show him that he can overcome his past and live the future he desires. A Christmas Carol-themed story. M for imagery.

Ribbons Down Her Back by lovesbitca8 - T, one-shot - The unintentional annual seduction of Draco Malfoy through a series of ribbons and bows - or - Christmas Fluff with a dash of Secret Santa.

A Yuletide Melody by In Dreams - T, one-shot - Following years of heartbreak and struggle, Hermione has lost sight of the things that were once important to her. It will take some visitors - and a certain blond - to remind her what matters most at Christmas.

#christmas

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inktrailing · 4 years ago

Text

SPN: purgatorio (snippet)

Figured I'd post some snippets of my WIPs. This diverted in season... 7? Some of this concept I wrote years ago and I have to get further in my rewatch to see if I need to shuffle things around. Basically Lucifer was trying to use the hallucinations as a way to manifest through someone and ended up helping Cas out a bit but popped out in Purgatory when Cas got there (the chunk I took for this post gets into the bare bones of it).

I definitely take more liberties than I usually do XD But I've been having fun playing around with a significantly non-linear timeline. Fic so far is ~11k words, 2 parts (I don't imagine it'll go over 2 parts, but I've been wrong before). I am still jumping around for how long they're in Purgatory for so that time on chp 2/3 here might change.

Might actually change the title at some point. Mostly a placeholder right now.

This is slowburn Dean/Lucifer but maybe will also be Dean/Castiel I really don't know yet. Benny's just close with everyone lol.

Warning: Explicit Language, Canon-Typical Violence

purgatorio

Three months ago.

Dean's running.

The woods by now are a familiar brush against his clothing. He knows this forest, embodies the trees, breathes the wind. He became a part of it months—years?—ago and he doesn't think if he's ever free that it's going to leave him. His bones crack a song same as the creaking branches.

Purgatory is a piece of him.

The night closes in behind him, shadow in the shape of a maw, cleaving through the underbrush as he vaults a cluster of boulders—the landmark he's been looking for, finally. He ducks a split tree branch, nearly skids through a patch of mud, trips, catches himself, and stumbles just over the first ring of the bloodied magic circle. A second hop has him beyond the next tight-together rings and then he's gulping down a relieved breath of air as he falls, hard, into another body.

“It's coming,” he says quickly on his exhale, clasping a hand to Cas's shoulder and straightening unsteadily. He twists his wrist and flips his crude blade in his grip, shifting his stance in front of Cas after he's caught his breath.

“Did you lay the trap?” Cas asks.

“What d'ya take me for, huh?” Dean replies with a huff.

“You forgot last time,” says a voice from behind them.

Dean scoffs and looks back where in their makeshift camp, center of the ritual circle, sits the devil. Legs crossed, palms up, hands sliced through, blood and grace dripping idly between his fingers.

“Yeah, and I learned my lesson after that one time, thanks,” Dean barks at him, focusing his attention back on the trees further being swallowed by the tide of shadow. The rumble follows, thunderous as each tree snaps and tears from the ground. Dean sees the burn of yellow eyes somewhere far back in that sea of darkness, and then hears a loud yelp and the yellow blinks out, followed by an ear-piercing howl that he can't help flinch from.

Cas sucks in a breath. “Maybe we... should have waited for Benny for this.”

“Would've been nice,” Dean agrees. The howl sounds again, reverberating angrily through the wood. Even Lucifer makes a hiss of displeasure. “Doesn't seem like our friend was willing to wait. Lucifer, this spell is going to hold, right?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Lucifer sings.

“You don't know? You said yesterday—”

“I believe yesterday I said 'probably,'” Lucifer interrupts. “Would you like to offer some blood to the cause?” he says snidely.

“Would it help?” Dean asks, matching his tone.

“Unlikely,” Cas says.

“Mm,” Lucifer agrees.

The two yellow eyes flare again, and the very forest screams as the shadow coalesces into the shape of a massive—wounded—beast.

Dean laughs and bumps shoulders with Cas, who wobbles just slightly. “Awesome, great, I love this. This'll be fine.”

The beast charges.

Sixteen months, three weeks, and six days ago.

“Didn't think he'd just wing off, did you?”

Dean jerks around at the voice. He's jumpy enough as it is, hearing the monsters closing in on fresh meat, circling him for a snack, and Cas is gone. Cas is gone and Lucifer is here and what the fuck he's got nothing to deal with any of this. He freezes.

“My brother really doesn't like conflict, Dean,” Lucifer continues, sighing and staring up towards the starless sky. “He'll be back in due time, likely when he deems it safe, or has that overwhelming need to protect you that he often has.” His gaze flicks back to Dean. “But I think we'll be alright without him.”

“You're in Hell,” Dean blurts, unable to hide his panic.

“Was in Hell,” Lucifer corrects. “Then I was riding around in your brother's psyche, and then in my brother's psyche, and now it seems I'm here, free of any anchor.” Lucifer rolls his shoulders in a small, half shrug. “Not as planned, but it works, I suppose.”

“You son of a bitch—” Dean is saying as he moves to, what? Punch the devil? Because that's a smart plan, Dean? But then there's several furry wolf-like monsters leaping out of bushes towards the delectable human snack and suddenly Lucifer doesn't seem like Dean's biggest problem because Cas said things about being torn to shreds and Dean is going to die.

Sorry, Bobby, he may be joining you sooner than intended.

But then there's a snap and Dean recoils at the sound and the nearest wolves are torn asunder, blood spraying across Lucifer's side.

“You may want to rethink this suicidal plan of yours,” Lucifer tells the remaining shadows, fingers poised to snap again. He hears them shift, unsteady and he grins, wolfish in his own right. He sees the gleam of eyes watching him for a long moment, and then they blink out, and are gone.

All Dean could do was stare. Lucifer's fight had only encompassed a few seconds. Dean shakes. He hears the rest of the predators move off at the display and Lucifer's words.

Dean's not sure if he should be thanking Lucifer or running; surely Lucifer would only be keeping him alive so that he could torture him relentlessly. Though at the moment, Lucifer seemed more intent on cleaning the blood from his arm.

“You really should relax, Dean. I'd bet the creatures here can smell fear just as much as they can smell blood. We should move somewhere we can have some kind of advantage when my brother returns.”

Dean stares as Lucifer drops to one knee and settles for wiping his arm along the patches of grass.

Dean's mind just flatlines because yeah, sure, that all sounds peachy. Because Dean is totally going to obey the devil and go with him wherever he wants. Of course. “Cas isn't coming back with you here.”

“You would think that, wouldn't you? Since Castiel told your brother that he had stopped seeing me. Which was good of him; neither of you would ever believe that I was helping my brother. Because, for the record, his 'craziness' isn't my fault. He didn't need any help going that route.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean demands, and nearly snarls at the sympathetic look Lucifer shoots his way.

“Resurrection never goes easily, Dean,” Lucifer explains. “There are always complications, even if our Father is the one who keeps doing it. And this time? Maybe it was as a punishment. First free to not be himself, and then having all his memories slam back into him? It's not healthy, even for an angel.” He shakes his head. “Can he stabilize? I still don't know.”

Dean lets those words wash over him. He wonders if Lucifer is lying to him, but more often than not the truth hurts more than lies. He doesn't know how to reply to Lucifer. He's not even sure why he's still here, but if Cas does come back, he feels like he shouldn't leave the angel with his older brother. Cas wasn't just imagining the little twinge of forgiveness in Dean's voice. Not much, but it was a start.

“Oh. Good. You two aren't killing each other.”

Speak of the...

Cas.

Cas looks uncomfortable to be with them in the clearing, his weight shifting back and forth on his feet, glancing from Lucifer to Dean, then down at the remains of the wolves and making a pitied face. “I found a cave. Seems empty and without anything previously taken residence in it.” He looks back at Dean, biting his lip.

Lucifer nods to his brother. “Lead the way, then.”

Dean has barely five seconds to realize that Lucifer is in his immediate space, registering Cas taking off again and then a hand clapped to his shoulder and the disorienting tilt of reality as Lucifer pulls him across Purgatory. He staggers into a slick cave wall, suddenly having a new appreciate for Cas's flight paths because damn was it a lot more stable than whatever the heck Lucifer just did.

He takes a perverse pleasure in the fact that Lucifer teeters away, like the flight screwed with him, too.

Then he whips to Cas and points at the devil. “How do you lie about something like this?!”

Cas quails when Dean turns on him. “Don't be mad at me, Dean,” he answers, a warble in his voice. He fidgets, like he's unsure what he wants to do with his arms, awkwardly settling to hold an elbow up with a hand, not quite crossing his arms. “You would have only been bothered, and... Lucifer has... only been supporting me.”

“Of course I would have been 'bothered', Cas! He's the damn devil! He's not there to support you, he's just using you!” he yells.

“Oh, you mean like how you always use him?” Lucifer tsks. “I wonder which one of us is more at fault.”

Cas backs away from the two. “Please, don't fight.”

Lucifer sneers, then frowns, then cocks his head to the side and sighs. “I won't if he won't,” he says, just shy of a whine. He smirks at Dean. “We have to work together, you know. Purgatory isn't the safest of places. You won't survive on your own, and Castiel will not leave me. Besides, I do care for your safety, Winchester, whether you believe my intentions or not.”

Furious, Dean looks away. He can't believe they're in this utterly stupid situation. He shouldn't have to rely on anyone, let alone Lucifer, but he remembers his initial arrival, remembers how out of his depth he was, remembers himself as the hunted Hunter. He knows, with complete certainty, that the feeling is never going to go away. Even now something must be tracking them. They can't be safe. They can never be safe.

He wants to kill Lucifer, but he's incapable of it. Getting rid of Lucifer the first time had been nearly impossible. He can't do it now, not alone as he is.

He hates this. It's wrong. It feels like a betrayal to Sam. But what choice, really, does he have? Goddammit. Goddammit.

“Fine,” he spits out, so much anger in that one small word. “I don't have to like it.”

“Thank you,” Cas murmurs to them both.

Sixteen months, three weeks, and five days ago.

Castiel feels the brewing trouble surrounding him. He knew this... this wouldn't be easy. Knew the moment Lucifer was no longer a ride-along to Castiel's mind, a separate entity once again, one that Castiel couldn't... didn't think he could remove himself from, even for Dean's comfort.

There was too much quiet in his head and he didn't know how to cope with that. Yet even from the support Lucifer had been offering him, Castiel still expected him to leave now that he had his own freedom. But he hadn't abandoned Castiel at that first sign of freedom. These sorts of things happen to Castiel nowadays, after all.

He kept such strange company. Lucifer, Meg...

He wonders how Meg is.

Not in Purgatory, so likely better off than Castiel.

He feels uncomfortable, shifting weight back and forth on his feet, glancing from Lucifer to Dean, then towards the exit of the cave, the scent of blood fresh in his senses, a swell of pity in his gut at the violence. But Lucifer did take care of it for Castiel. He had the blood on his hands, literally, and Castiel managed to avoid that.

He starts to let himself relax. The alliance is by no means perfect, but it exists.

*****

The trouble returns just as quick, Castiel thinks, when Dean has to sleep.

“You'll take a watch, Cas? I don't trust something wandering in for a snack.”

Castiel is about to answer, when Lucifer interrupts, “You need sleep, too, brother.” Lucifer settles just within the mouth of the cave, sprawling legs out before him, head hitting stone. “I'll keep an eye out.”

“Oh no,” Dean argues. “No, that's not happening. Cas, I'll switch off with you so we both can get sleep if you really need it.”

“That's wholly unnecessary,” Lucifer sighs.

“Does it look like I care?” Dean says stubbornly. “I'm not sleeping in your vicinity.”

“I don't think...” Castiel trails off.

Lucifer throws up his hands and rolls his eyes in Dean's direction. “Then you'll have the pleasure of my company while my brother sleeps.”

Dean grits his teeth but doesn't argue further and it's the best they'll get. Dean wraps his arms around himself and wedges himself against a wall of the cave and shuts his eyes. Castiel sinks opposite of Lucifer and looks out across the quiet forest, knowing that even though he can't hear it, there is death all around them. Purgatory doesn't stop because it's night.

“Thank you,” Castiel repeats in a whisper, not so much afraid of disturbing Dean as he is Dean hearing him have a conversation with Lucifer.

Lucifer just shrugs and folds his arms almost petulantly. “Don't thank me yet. This isn't going to be easy. It would be simpler to ditch your favorite Winchester.”

Castiel slumps and mumbles, “It'd be easier if you ditched me.”

Lucifer groans, bumping his head against the stone several times. “Castiel.”

“I'm serious,” Castiel says. “You know they'll be coming for me. They'll never stop.”

“And I'll kill them, easy enough. So you've got some toothy little inkblots after you. He's potentially Purgatory's New Most Wanted and uncooperative to a fault. He's going to get you killed, Castiel.”

“It's what I deserve.”

Lucifer hisses through clenched teeth and leans forward. “Ah,” he berates. “None of that. If you're going to be a stickler about keeping him alive, I'm going to be one about keeping you alive. Understand?”

“No,” Castiel replies honestly. His response doesn't make Lucifer angry, only minutely frustrated. Castiel wishes he understood, but it isn't that easy. It's never been easy. He'd dragged Lucifer's manifestation out of Sam and into himself and Lucifer tore him apart in a days-long temper tantrum and then he sat in the center of all that disarray, looked at Castiel, and said 'you're very different than Sam.'

You're very different than Sam.

Like how? Like he wasn't enough? Like he couldn't even break the right way?

'What did our Father do to you? Lucifer had wondered aloud, eyes red and staring through Castiel like he was only good enough to be an experiment, and then Lucifer had flinched, and he voice had gotten quiet. 'Oh. This is going to take some time.'

4 (maybe)

Saturday, April 7, 2012

“Oh. This is going to take some time.”

The mess of Castiel's multiple resurrections are scattered beneath where Lucifer sits. Lucifer had torn down his brother's walls and threw open all the doors and now he's left with the sea of shattered fragments flooding around them, all Castiel, and all broken before Lucifer had anything to do with them. It's like someone emptied out three almost-similar puzzles and hoped that the pieces would fit together anyway. Tried even to force the pieces to fit, the care lessened each time.

It could only be their Father's work. Or lack thereof. Did it count as work if you only haphazardly rebuild someone and only rely on it all working out on its own?

It's cute that God thinks his children are so self-sufficient.

He fishes into the sea and takes his time to sift through and pick out a fragment. The most gleaming shard, perfection at its max, all choirs and holy light. An angel unmarred by any outside influence, though if he looks more closely he can see the beginning lines of doubt threatening to etch into the edges.

It's funny that Castiel always thought he was so different than Lucifer. Look where they are now.

Well, Lucifer remains a frayed connection, his transfer temporarily stalled by his brother ripping him away from Sam Winchester. He'd made such progress there. Sam was easy to pull apart slow, pick at each fiber and peel away the layers of the mind so that more of Lucifer could wiggle out of the Cage and sidle his subconscious, and then his grace, alongside Sam.

Michael had started to realize what he was doing. Saw Lucifer's little escape-artist plan and fought him for a time until exhaustion had worn him and his vessel ragged. Lucifer thinks it wasn't Michael, but Adam that let Lucifer continue with his plan. Poor, abandoned, disenfranchised Adam.

One of them had laughed at Lucifer when he was shunted into Castiel. He hadn't taken it well at the time—on either side of his connection. Now they were back to ignoring each other and Lucifer kind of wishes they weren't; Michael's insight in regards to their brother could prove invaluable.

He could just leave it. He should just leave it. Unlike Sam, Castiel is so naturally frayed that Lucifer can crowd right in and be free of the Cage with hardly any hassle. Castiel did him a favor.

“Why should I hole up in the shambles of a motel? I'm not a Hunter, I'm not into that life,” he tells Castiel. “I wasn't expecting Five Stars, but come on, Castiel.”

“... What?” It's the second time Castiel has looked at him since he got here. Castiel's fear has taken a step back in favor of his confusion.

“In case I wasn't absolutely clear: I'm moving in,” Lucifer answers. “But I don't see why I can't spruce up the place before I fully do so.” He sighs and drops the fragment back into the sea. “We'll have to peruse your trauma and not in a fun torture way.” He holds up new fragments in each hand, pinched between thumb and forefinger. One is still almost white, the other has gone a smoky-gray, but their shapes are nearly identical. “The bits of you blown up by Raphael, and the bits blown up by me, those will line up nicely.”

Castiel stares at him for a long, long moment, unblinking, eyes glazed like he's thinking over each of his words before he dares to speak. “... Shouldn't all the exact matches go together?”

“Sure,” Lucifer replies easily. “If you want to be incomplete.”

A spike of anger surges through their shared link. “You'll be possessing me, what does it matter if I'm 'incomplete.'”

Lucifer mouths the words back silently in mocking. Then, “If you want to be 'complete' as Daddy's walking robot, devoid of the concept of Free Will, and whatever humanity—for better or for worse—did to you, then fine.” He leans back, staring at his brother, eyes aglow with... rage? … Sympathy? No, no. Never. But he doesn't understand why this is unsettling him. “A Hand of God,” he jeers, “ready to answer his will—even though he's the one partially responsible for the mess you are now.”

“I...”

“Don't get me wrong,” Lucifer continues right over Castiel, “I can't take credit for your mountain of mistakes, and neither can our Father. You screwed the pooch, Castiel. But this?” He rolls his head and indicates the sea around them. “There was 'Some Assembly Required' to this whole Resurrection Thing and someone sure skipped out on that—typical.”

Castiel lowers his head and doesn't react further.

Lucifer says nothing and seals the two pieces he'd been holding together and then Castiel full body shudders and Lucifer feels more than sees memories slide over the two of them.

“Oops,” he says, a little winded. “I hate this already.”

*****

((World's Worst recreation of Operation.))

#spn fanfiction #ducifer #dean winchester/lucifer #dean winchester #lucifer #castiel #fic: purgatorio

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qqueenofhades · 8 years ago

Text

The Inferno: Canto IX

summary: When Lucifer’s mother drags Chloe into hell, he is forced to return in a desperate attempt to rescue her. But home is not how he remembers it, he may accidentally set off the apocalypse if he’s not careful, and if he can’t reach Chloe in time – even as she’s beginning to discover power she never knew she had, and may not want to be saved – all will be lost forever. rating: M status: WIP available: FF.net and AO3 previous: Canto VIII

The only thing more unpleasant than getting into Purgatory is getting out of it. Once a soul comes here, for better or for worse, it is only supposed to move in one direction, and that is very much not the direction Lucifer is trying to go. As usual, that’s him. Busy bee bolloxing up the bastard’s big. . . he can’t think of a synonym for “stupid plan” that starts with the letter b, and even in his extremity, he is annoyed that he cannot properly complete witty alliterative bon mots. At any rate, the point is that it is just like him to throw a monkey wrench in Dad’s designs for things. It crosses his mind to wonder what happens if he can’t get out at all. Sit here for a few thousand years and develop a deep appreciation for trees, fog, and rocks? Bloody hell. He’ll drown himself first.

The image of Chloe, her face, how she looked when he told her to go, the way it felt when she took that first step away from him and did not look back – again, as he told her – hangs over him with every step he himself takes, feeling as if ten-ton weights have been chained around his ankles. Whether that is Purgatory trying to keep him here or a reflection of his own emotional state, he doesn’t know. She’s probably on her way to heaven by now, she might even be there. If so, even one member of his worthless family has to have decided to return her to Earth, haven’t they? If nothing else, to rebuke Mum for unjustly dragging her to hell, when it was not decreed, according to the great Plan ™, either that she die or that she go to the Bad Place for it. Unless they know, of course, exactly what Chloe means to him, and are using her, one insignificant little human, to make a point about some divine protocol or other. His bloody father does that a lot.

Please, Lucifer thinks, grimacing, struggling to put one foot in front of the other. Please, don’t punish Chloe for my sake. Just get her home. Please. Please. Please.

After some minor eternity of endless trudging, he finally reaches the beach where they washed up in the first place. The iron-grey water does not look any more warm or welcoming than before, and Lucifer eyes it balefully, unable to work up any enthusiasm to again submerge himself (and his designer suit) in it. He could stand here and make a ruckus until someone opens the door from the hell side, as he advised Chloe to try with heaven, but he has a sneaking feeling that the Morrigan, at least, are perfectly happy to have him gone. They have their own ideas about how hell should be run, and with Chloe, their new dark queen, they were finally getting the chance to try. He’s grateful he got her away from those hags, at least. He was nearly too late.

Lucifer stands there a long moment more. Nothing brilliant has occurred to him, and he has just resigned himself to going bloody swimming, when the water starts to hiss and smoke, sending up plumes of white steam that grow thicker and thicker, veiling the drab grey world from sight. His feet leave the ground, he spins dizzily around and around while demons with red-hot pitchforks rip out his innards (he has a more than theoretical knowledge of what that feels like) and for a moment, he is completely weightless. Then he crashes flat on something hard with an extremely humiliating sound, and while he is thinking that the devil absolutely does not return to hell by doing a faceplant and an oof, he sees a familiar pair of glossy black high heels click toward him. A manicured hand reaches down to help him, and his mother’s voice says, “Oh, thank heavens. I didn’t know if it would work. Honey, are you okay?”

“What did you – ” Still feeling unpleasantly punched in the chest, Lucifer manages to sit upright with another grimace, ignoring her hand. He has a sense of distinct foreboding: they, after all, did not tell her where they were going or what they were doing. “Mother, what are you – ”

“Getting you out of that horrible place, of course.” Charlotte looks confused that he would even have to ask. “What’s going on? Where’s Chloe?”

“Gone,” Lucifer says, with a certain grim satisfaction. “Out of your reach for good, Mum. So you can stop pretending that you ever actually wanted the best for us.”

“But I do.” Charlotte steps back as he gets to his feet, looking around. Yes, he’s definitely back in hell. Wonderful, just bloody wonderful. “I knew something was wrong, so I came here and just started messing around a little. Then I saw you on the other side of the door, and had to try to get you out. I did, obviously, so now we can – ”

“Came here and just started messing around?” This is not good. Lucifer has always known that his mother is powerful – she’s the damn goddess of creation, after all, and unlike his father, she has no qualms about using it. But if she was able to pull someone from Purgatory back into hell without even really knowing what she was doing, that opens the door, quite literally, for far more. Maybe she can pull all the souls in Purgatory back into hell, back to the torment and damnation they were supposed to have escaped. He’s an angel – if she’s strong enough to move him between realms, a few chump-change mortals aren’t going to be a problem. She’s been here by herself, examining everything, determined to learn the details of her prison. It took her two nights to absorb an entire law school curriculum. Whatever she’s done now –

“So,” Lucifer says, forcing himself to keep a casual tone, even as he knows the answer. “No chance Amenadiel has, er, popped by with anything, is there?”

“No, your brother isn’t here yet.” Charlotte links her arm with his, escorting him away from the door and toward a hell that officially no longer looks a thing like Los Angeles. She’s apparently been redecorating as busily as Chloe did when she first got here. It’s not endless fire and moaning damned souls, because the last thing his mother wants is to have to see all the filthy humans sweating and screaming out their tedious little sins. It looks almost like a Gothic cathedral, a dark, demented echo of the magnificent edifices that the humans used to build in honor of Dad. But as Lucifer looks at the soaring vaults and sculpted pillars and beautiful architecture of this church that is not a church, he realizes that it is made out of people. All the denizens of hell his mother could get her hands on, twisted and stacked and braided together and carved like stone, laid like building blocks, silent and cold as marble and granite themselves – except for their eyes. Their eyes are still alive, and Lucifer can see all of them looking at him. Begging him – him, of all people – to help them.

A horrible coldness goes through him. He tells himself that this doesn’t matter to him, that they are here because they deserve to be, and that while her methods might be unorthodox (again, literally) at least his mother is carrying out hell’s primary function of punishing the guilty. It’s rather elegant, even. She always was an aesthete. So he turns his back on them, and allows her to walk him out of the cathedral and into the twisting streets beyond. It looks like a beautiful village in the Swiss Alps or something, picture-perfect old-world charm, if you can overlook the further fact that everything out here is built out of people as well. His mother has really outdone herself. Put the humans exactly where she thinks they belong, closed any procedural loopholes that could be used against her, and built hell into a nice little realm for them to have all to themselves, no interruptions. At least, of course, until she finishes her plan. She’s isn’t going to live forever in this place that would give Hannibal Lecter nightmares, not when the Silver City awaits.

“So,” Charlotte says as they walk. “Chloe made it into heaven, didn’t she? Of course she did.”

Something about this, even more than the fact that she seems to have precisely guessed their plan, makes Lucifer’s hackles stand up. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, son.” Charlotte stops, turning to face him. “Surely you must have had some inkling, because you wouldn’t have thought that such an absurd plan would work otherwise. You knew that heaven would take special notice of her, because. . .well. I know it’s hard, Lucifer, but I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

“What – ” Wherever this is going, he doesn’t like it. “What the bloody hell are you rabbiting on about?”

“Who Chloe is.” Charlotte looks at him with her exquisite brow furrowing. “Oh no. You really don’t know, do you?”

“Wh – well, I knew you were up to something when you started acting as if you were perfectly happy to have us together, but – ”

“Of course I had to do that to her face, didn’t I?” Charlotte puts her hand on his arm, and Lucifer jerks back from her touch. “She was already so suspicious and angry at me, I had to – ”

“Yes, Mum, because you tried to kill her – ”

“No, I took her here. I didn’t kill her. I was thinking that she’d get to heaven, yes, but that you and I would come with her. That there was no way your father would permit his special little miracle to stay down here, and hence whisk her out. Open that door, the one that matters. Don’t you see? It was for us, to get us back – you thought I’d raise an army and storm the gates of heaven, but why would I do that, when this way was so much easier?”

Lucifer feels as if he’s still dunked in the freezing waters of Purgatory, or trapped on the return journey, spinning and spinning out of control. His eyes turn to burning coals. “What are you talking about?”

Charlotte looks at him searchingly. “Amenadiel didn’t tell you either?”

“TELL ME WHAT?”

“Chloe. . .” She takes a breath. “Honey, this is going to be very hard for you to hear, but you have to. Chloe. . . all this time, she’s been an agent of your father’s, working for him. Unwittingly, it’s true, but still. He had your brother bless those humans, John and Penelope, to allow them to have a child. Chloe. He was engineering you two toward each other, trying to trick you to make deals with him on her behalf, to put yourself in his debt. Don’t you see? He’s been using Chloe to maneuver and manipulate you. Back you into a corner. That’s what she is. Just another tool of his. What you had was never real. It was just part of your father still trying to hurt you. My Lucifer, my Samael, my sweet little Sam. Isn’t it enough?”

Lucifer stands riveted to the spot. All the air has been driven out of his lungs, the hope out of his heart, the light from his world, the atoms from his soul, until he’s not sure how he’s still standing upright. He wants to grab her, wants to shake her, wants to shout at her that she’s lying, but he can sense the horrible truth behind her words. Is this why Amenadiel seemed so guilty about Chloe? Why he’s not bringing Azrael’s blade as Lucifer asked, knowing that this sticky situation will be sorted out one way or another, without his interference? Lucifer’s worst fear has just been confirmed. Chloe’s life, her very existence, is nothing but a bargaining chip that his father can put forward or pull back at will. She hasn’t even known that she’s been a pawn on a cosmic chessboard, a living embodiment of divine blackmail. As if God Almighty created the light, the very word and element from which Lucifer takes his name, the most brilliant and strong and lovely and kind and brave woman in the entire world, and used her to set the trap. That in reaching for it, in daring to touch it, in thinking he was worthy to have it, he fell into the abyss. Just to be reminded, over and over, how much he isn’t. Monster. Monster. Monster.

Lucifer can’t breathe. He’s aware of an overwhelming need for a drink or twelve, but even hellish liqueur cannot solve this problem or make him remotely sane again. He can feel the scars on his back burning, the ache of a phantom limb, the way he would assume the form and have his wings burst from him, become the full and terrible Lord of Hell and not this muted, mutilated, powerless, practically mortal version he’s let himself devolve into, in pursuit of this ultimate lie. All this time. Dad knew he’d ask for Chloe’s life. Promise him anything in return. Has probably been laughing his arse off at how gullible Lucifer really is, no matter how shrewd and cynical he likes to think himself. Been dangling them both on puppet strings.

And Lucifer just sent Chloe there. To heaven. Thinking there was finally a chance that he would trust his bloody family to save the one thing in this or any world that means the most to him. What did they do with her? Toss her in the junk drawer with the rest of the tools that had done their job? If they – if they –

What you had was never real.

Does Chloe even like him?

Did she ever have a choice, or is she still in that place she was when they first met, proclaiming him repulsive on a chemical level, but frog-marched and forced along to this, just to make the biggest impression when he lost her? He, after all, has prided himself on free will, on thinking he was living his own life at last, his own man, that Dad could never have foreseen or approve of him running away to Los Angeles, that Chloe was the first good thing he had made for himself. Of course he was wrong. Dad was just waiting with the giant flyswatter, grinning.

“Honey?” Charlotte takes hold of his arms. “Lucifer? Sweetie, talk to me. As I said, I know this couldn’t be easy, but at least now you know who she is, and why I did this. So you see? We have to get back to heaven. We have to make your father answer for what he did to you, and to Chloe. Once your brother gets here with the blade, we’ll have our chance.”

Somewhere in Lucifer’s numb brain, there is still enough space to be wearily unsurprised that of course his mother knew exactly what he was talking about when he ordered Malcolm to have Amenadiel fetch their sister’s “lost item.” There can’t be too many other relics of Azrael floating happily about the mortal world, after all, and Charlotte was already keen to see its destructive power put to work. So she’s known everything, the whole time. Knows he sent Malcolm to get Azrael’s blade and Amenadiel, so she will have both her fallen sons, her daughter’s weapon, and a freshly revealed incentive for the lot of them to go great gangbusters against heaven. Even worse, Lucifer isn’t sure he’s going to refuse her one more time. He is burning alive.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Charlotte says, steering him into a sidewalk café (again, built of people) and getting them a seat at a table. She conjures up a shot, and Lucifer grabs it by reflex, slamming it down, as she follows it with another and he knocks that one back too. They of course are the only customers here, as the rest of hell’s residents have been turned into the fabric of hell itself. The light outside is getting darker blue all the time, ash swirling out of the sky, the entire place straining and splitting at the edges in response to Lucifer’s meltdown. He hasn’t felt this way in ages. Almost since his first little tumble down here, the stake of his father’s betrayal driven through his heart. What does it matter now? There’s no point in trying to get back to Los Angeles. It’s not home. Nowhere is. His home was never real.

Lucifer does a third shot helpfully provided by his mother, wondering if there is any chance of getting as blackout drunk as he sorely longs to be, but as he pushes the glass back toward her, beckoning her to refill it, she says, “Honey, that’s enough for now. We need to think about what we’re going to do. That soul you sent back was very drab, but even he has to have reached Amenadiel by now. If he doesn’t appear before much longer, we can probably assume that that awful demon of yours has managed to distract him. Honestly, I’m not sure what either of you saw in her, apart from the obvious. But well, we all make mistakes.” She pats his hand. “Still, we can’t have Mazikeen be the one to gum up the works. There has to be someone else we can send as a backup. Also, about your wings. They wouldn’t be quite the same as the real ones, but I could try making you a replacement set. Do you want me to?”

Lucifer grunts, as his concern is with focusing long enough to produce a fourth shot on his own. “Fine, Mum. Whatever makes you happy. I don’t bloody care.”

“Breakups are always difficult. With your father, it was – ” Charlotte stops, as if she was going to say something that she fancied to be comforting, but was caught short by an unexpected pang of real emotion. After all, she and her husband once loved each other enough to literally give birth to all of existence, and the loss of that, its fall and its poisoning and its turning to loathing, is something beyond any and all comparison, a glimpse of just why she is so devoted to this crusade of hers, to avenge it or annihilate it. Quietly, she finishes, “It was, as I said, very hard. I know your feelings for Chloe were real. It will take time to heal.”

“Heal?” Lucifer’s lip curls. “I’m done healing, Mother. Everyone was right. I’ve been pretending to be someone I’m not. Killing Uriel wasn’t a mistake or an aberration, it was who I am. Even I can’t bloody run away from that any more, can I?”

Charlotte’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “Honey, you’ve never been good about processing or facing your emotions. But you have to understand that this isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything other than what you couldn’t help. It’s your father’s fault for weaponizing it in such a cruel way. You can’t beat yourself up over it. Please.”

Lucifer doesn’t answer, having managed to fill the shot glass and drain it a few more times. He feels a bit of that hazy, delirious buzz he managed to achieve briefly after Uriel’s death, but it’s already slipping out of his grasp. Other than that, he has no idea. He wants sorely to stop thinking about anything. It would be easier if he was consumed by volcanic rage, burning to take up arms and kick heaven’s door down. Easier than this. At least he knows how to deal with rage. Instead he is, in a way even he has never been before, completely and utterly heartbroken.

He stops paying attention to his mother, lets her words wash inconsequentially over him, conjures up a cigarette or five and smokes his way through them. Finally, he can’t stand an instant more of anyone’s company, especially her and the frozen people staring at him from the walls. Gets to his feet and blunders out, going nowhere down the endless black road. He wonders if he can find the exact spot he fell out of heaven before. He wants to lie down there, and die.

Step by step. Going nowhere. Just as he always has. Deeper and deeper into hell. Back toward the heart of it, the twisted Tree of Knowledge, and the headwaters of the rivers. One of them has to ease his pain. Lethe, the river Lethe, that one sounds good. The one you drink from, and forget everything.

He gets there at last, falls to his knees in the mud, unable to give a single damn about his suit this time. Crawls to the edge of the bank, remembering that first sight of his burns in the water, and how he refused to believe it could possibly be him. He won’t have that problem this time. The effect is not likely to be permanent, since he isn’t human, but it should keep him in a state of blissful ignorance for a while. When he wakes up, he can always drink more. Maybe eventually, when he does, he won’t remember.

Lucifer cups his hands, and dips them in the river of oblivion. Brings the sparkling black water to his lips, and drinks.

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

Amenadiel, Maze, Dan, and Ella are presently on the world’s worst double date: sitting in the squad car in an alley outside a seedy strip joint in east L.A., where they have tracked the Entity Previously Known as Malcolm. They’re afraid he has already managed to change bodies, abandoning Earl Horton for something a bit more sturdy – that, or the world’s dirtiest grandpa is currently in there feeling up the exotic dancers. They have to be very careful about how they do this. Ambushing him in the club itself would go tits up in any number of ways, especially if he’s gotten powerful enough to jump from host to host without his first vessel having to be killed first. If they go after him in there, he’ll have an unlimited choice of bodies to attack, and they have to get him out here, alone, and for the love of all that is holy, not miss their shot.

Amenadiel shifts uncomfortably, as this feels comparable to sitting and awaiting his own execution. The shot in question has to be taken by him, because Dan and Ella, as humans, would go crazy if they held Azrael’s blade (Dan already having learned this the hard way) and because he’s not at all sure he wants to hand Maze such a dangerous weapon when she is transparently still so livid at him. He thought she might be even slightly mollified by him agreeing to come along and help them out, but if hell hath no fury etc etc., it is several orders of magnitude worse when the woman in question is an actual demon. His sister’s blade feels red-hot in his jacket pocket, waiting for the moment when Earl-Malcolm emerges, the other three jump him and subdue him (that is, Amenadiel thinks, a very optimistic notion) and Amenadiel himself uses it to smite the miserable prick out of existence for good. That will solve one of their current problems, at least, before it makes their other one unavoidable. Does he take it to hell, or. . . not?

The atmosphere in the car is tense and strained. Ella tries cracking a few jokes to lighten the mood, but yeah, no. They’re all craning forward, watching all the johns emerging from the club in case one of them has an extra-evil aura, but no, they’re the usual sad people who go to a skeezy strip club on a weeknight. At last, however, a strip of dim glow falls on the parking lot, and an extremely boozed-up Earl Horton teeters out, looking as if he’s probably had more fun in one night than the actual old geezer did in his entire eighty-odd years of life. Apparently Malcolm was too busy whooping it up to go to the hassle of switching bodies just yet.

Amenadiel looks at his companions, nods sharply, and as one, they move. Throw the car doors open and converge on him, as Ella yells, “Hey, buttmunch!” and hurls a garbage can lid at him with considerable accuracy and force for a five-foot-two forensic pathologist, momentarily knocking him off balance. This allows Maze to take a running start and jump on his back, twisting her legs around him and taking him down with a perfectly executed judo throw. Dan punches him before he can recover, grabbing him in a headlock and pinning him, as Maze kicks him hard in the ass, probably just because she can. “Hey!” Dan yells, having thus momentarily apprehended the demonic perp. “Do your stabbing thing!”

Amenadiel fumbles for the blade, as Earl-Malcolm – dazed, but not yet licked – writhes in a vigorous attempt to break free. And then, as Amenadiel’s hand closes around Azrael’s blade and he pulls it out of his jacket (he really hopes Dan will not report this incident at the station, protocol or otherwise), a foul black smoke starts to pour out of the old man’s mouth, engulfing Dan’s head in what is unmistakably Eau de Malcolm. Strangled yells can be heard from inside this cloud of doom, Dan’s legs jerk, and they overbalance and hit the pavement, as Maze rushes forward and tries to drag them apart – but too late. Earl Horton’s body slumps limply, empty, as Dan’s eyes glow red. “Hey, pal,” he hisses at Amenadiel. “Go on. Kill us both. I’m sure nobody’s gonna miss Dan, now are they?”

Amenadiel freezes, as he realizes in horror that a) Malcolm has jumped from Earl’s body to Dan’s, and b) that if anyone has had a terrible, horrible, no-good experience with the supernatural, it is Daniel Espinoza, who appears to have some kind of cosmic kick-me sign taped to his back. He is thrashing and jerking, clearly trying to fight Malcolm’s possession out of him with all his might, but he can’t overcome a demon of his old partner’s strength. He grins up at Amenadiel. “Come on. Ain’t like Lucifer’s gonna mind. Detective Douche and ol’ Malcolm vaporized at once, it’s like a birthday present. The whole two birds, one stone thing.”

Amenadiel remains motionless, Azrael’s blade in hand, as Ella and Maze look aghast. “No,” Ella blurts out. “No, you can’t –”

“Kill me!” That’s Dan’s voice, not Malcolm’s, as he must have briefly managed to get back to the controls of his own head. “God dammit, kill me! If that’s what you have to do to destroy this son of a bitch, then do it! Just – just tell Trixie that I love her, I didn’t choose to leave her – ”

“Touching,” Malcolm interrupts, as Dan’s face jerks back into a sneer. “Real touching. He’s ready to make a heroic sacrifice to take me down, just like before. But you’re not gonna do it, huh, Amenadiel? You don’t have the guts. Never did. Got me to do your dirty work. Now you’re too chickenshit to actually kill us. Figures.”

Amenadiel stares wildly at Maze, expecting her to rip the blade out of his hand and take care of Dan-Malcolm herself (and then probably him, for good measure) but even Maze seems at a loss, lips white. Dan’s back arches as he continues to fight the demonic invasion, groaning and hissing and spitting, and Ella looks at him, looks back at Amenadiel and Maze, and then seems to make up her mind. She pulls off the silver cross necklace she always wears, darts in, and claps it to Dan’s forehead, clearly attempting an amateur exorcism. “Oh no you don’t, you jerk,” she breathes savagely. “Oh no you don’t.”

Dan-Malcolm howls, eyes going the same red as Lucifer’s in his devil form, as black smoke starts to gust from his nose and mouth. Ella hangs on as tenaciously as a barnacle, reciting the Lord’s Prayer loudly, then adding “Expelliarmus!” at the end when she can’t think of anything else appropriately demon-driving-out-y. Then there is a final jerk and spasm, the black cloud gushes out of Dan’s mouth as Amenadiel takes a desperate swing at it with Azrael’s blade but has, of course, no body to stab, and it shoots off down the alley like an evil comet, vanishing with a shriek. Dan sways on the spot, then topples forward with a crash, and doesn’t move.

“Hey,” Ella says, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Hey. Hey, you okay?”

Amenadiel and Maze look at each other, torn between running after Malcolm’s escaped entity that is about to take over another body, or likewise going to see if Dan has survived his latest unpleasant brush with the powers of hell. Judging by the groan that he utters, sitting up slowly with blood pouring from his nose, he has, even though he does not look to have enjoyed the experience. “Next time,” he says thickly, wiping his face on his sleeve, “just stab him, okay?”

“I – wasn’t going to kill you.” Amenadiel shoots a glance back down the alley, briefly wondering if he should in fact have done so. If it’s true what Malcolm said, and he’s too much of a coward to ever face up to the grim reality of doing what it takes. Then he shakes his head, furious with himself. “No matter what he said, I think people would miss you. Even Lucifer.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” Dan wipes his nose again, then looks at Ella. “Hey, thanks for getting that dick out of me.” He pauses, considers, then grimaces. “Wow. That was really not what I was trying to say, was it?”

They can’t help it, they all snort with unsteady laughter, as Ella pats him bracingly on the shoulder. “I got you covered, man. No problem, okay?”

“No,” Dan says. “Thanks. I mean it.”

Ella pauses, then nods solemnly, and takes his elbow to help him to his feet. They stand there in the middle of the strip-club parking lot, aware that they were making a lot of noise and somebody is probably going to come investigate. They still need to go after Malcolm post-haste – he’s no less dangerous without a body, and possibly even more, if he just conducts those same sort of dive-bombing raids on the nearest humans – and they take a step toward the police cruiser. Just one step. Because at that moment, Amenadiel feels a familiar bone-deep chill, the way the world goes still and somnolent, in the way that can only mean the arrival of –

“Hey, big brother.”

Oh, shit.

The Angel of Death is leaning casually against the squad car, wearing a black leather jacket and a bored expression, messy braid flung over her shoulder and tendrils blowing in her ancient golden eyes, as she looks from Maze, to Dan, to Ella, and finally to Amenadiel, who still has her knife clutched in his hand. “You know,” she says. “I don’t remember telling you that you could play with my toys.”

“Azrael. Hi.” Amenadiel darts a hounded glance over his shoulder, trying to judge if the other three can see her. He can’t be sure. “I – look, this is important, we really need to – ”

“Catch the escaped demon.” Azrael pushes off the car and saunters closer, beautiful and dangerous as a jaguar in the jungle. “I know.”

“You do?”

“You’re really out of the loop, aren’t you?”

“Yes, actually! I am!” Amenadiel wants to scream in frustration that even his sister knows more about this than he does, that everyone has gotten the full briefing while he only gets cryptic and useless snippets. He knows damn well that he’s out of favor, but do they have to rub it in his face like this? “I’m an idiot! Happy?”

Azrael regards him keenly for a long moment, before her gaze moves past him, to Maze, Dan, and Ella. All of them stare blankly through her, motionless. “Short on help, too?”

“Why are you here?” Amenadiel has a brief and terrible thought that Dan didn’t actually survive the possession, and she’s here to swoop him up and carry him off. That’s the usual reason Azrael visits the mortal realm, after all. “Look, you can have the knife back, I swear, I wasn’t the one who borrowed it, we just need it to – ”

“Again. I said. I know.” Azrael continues to regard him with that same penetrating look. Amenadiel is older than she is, though not by much, but he often doesn’t feel like it. “And I wasn’t even sent here for it.”

“Oh?”

“No.” She hesitates, ever so briefly. “I’m here trying to stop the apocalypse.”

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

Chloe was not intending to use her power again on this go-round in hell. She really wasn’t. She knows how tempting it was, and how close she came to giving in. Best to just avoid the problem, and quit cold turkey. Such, at least, was the well-intentioned plan.

That, however, was before they got here, this – whatever it is – is going on, there’s no sight or sound of anybody or anything anywhere, and the air itself feels thick and raw and wrong. This being hell, it’s beside the point to ask why anything is creepy or weird or generally a bad omen, but Chloe stands tensely still, trying to think what to do next. Did Lucifer not make it back from Purgatory? Did he make it back, and then get chucked into Mum’s old cage, by Mum, the Morrigan, or someone else (has there been a breakout on the tyrant wing?) Did Malcolm come back with Azrael’s blade, and stab him when he wasn’t looking? Or –

Chloe sternly informs herself to get a grip. Whatever is going on, running through various panicky scenarios is not going to help. She inhales a deep breath, tasting a whiff of sulfur in the back of her throat, and turns to her dad. “Okay,” she says. “I’m going to try something. I’m not exactly sure how it’s going to turn out, but I have the basic idea. Sort of.”

“You’re familiar with how. . . all this works, then?” John waves a hand at their dank, dismal, foreboding surroundings. “Chloe, honey, you’re still planning to go home, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

John makes an indeterminate noise in his throat, but decides not to waste time with further parental admonishment. “Gotcha, then. Tell me what I need to do.”

“You don’t need to do anything. Just hold onto my arm, and I’m going to try to move us. It’s the way Lucifer travels around here, he doesn’t actually walk from place to place. I have the general idea, but I don’t want to, I don’t know, Splinch us or something.”

“Right,” John says. “Lucifer does it. So it’s clearly a good plan.”

Chloe glances up at him with a frown, reminded of the fact that while she is talking about the master of this place as a man, a familiar friend and lover that she trusts and can’t wait to get back to, all her father hears is that his only begotten daughter has literally fallen in with the Devil, is comfortable using the dread powers of hell for herself, and just seems awfully comfortable here. He trusts her judgment and he loves her more than anything, hence why he insisted on accompanying her down here from heaven, but she hopes that if (when) they cross paths with Lucifer again, he isn’t being too, well, Lucifer. He knows what her dad means to her and he’s all right with it, but he can’t be expecting to see Disapproving Father John Decker in the flesh (or whatever he is). What with the trouble they’re already having with his mom, the last thing they need is to set off his other clusterfuck of parental Issues.

Chloe pushes that thought away as well, as her dad grips her arm. “On three,” she says. “One, two. . . three.”

It feels like pushing through a tidal wave of molasses with a detour through an M.C. Escher painting, trying to shift from one place to another while all the accustomed dimensions and proportions and spatial relations completely crap out on them. Chloe’s brain has been too flattened to accommodate much of a coherent thought, but she does realize that this must take centuries of practice, as well as probably an angelic pedigree, to pull off quickly and effortlessly. It’s the furthest thing from graceful as she and her dad struggle like bugs stuck to flypaper, the squeezing sensation is briefly unbearable, and then they shoot out and land on something wet and squashy. It appears to be, as Chloe registers when her vision finally comes back online, a riverbank. A huge, gnarled black tree towers overhead, with roots like great snakes, and she can hear running water. This place seems familiar, very familiar, but she can’t put her finger on why.

That question, however, is disregarded in the next instant, as she catches sight of a body sprawled facedown in the mud – a very familiar one, long and lanky and dark-haired and wearing its usual dapper black suit, now rumpled and filthy. Heart in her throat, Chloe bolts to her feet and runs to him. “Lucifer? Lucifer!”

“That’s him?” Clearly John was not expecting the Devil to be passed out – he’s breathing, he can’t be dead, he can’t be – in a wrinkled suit on a muddy riverbank, and Chloe likewise was hoping that this first meeting would go better. When she pictured it, Lucifer was conscious, for a start, and upright. Did Charlotte do something to him after all, or – this is Lucifer, master of self-sabotage – did he do it himself? But why? She didn’t leave that long ago, unless this is another of hell’s tricks and he just –

“Lucifer. Hey.” Chloe crouches down, rolling him onto his back. His eyes are closed, face pale as ice. “Lucifer, wake up, damn it. Hey. Hey!”

It takes a few more moments, but at last his eyelashes flutter. She grips his shoulders, waiting tensely, until they finally open all the way. He stares at her with no apparent recognition, then breaks into a leering grin. “H’lo there, darling,” he slurs. “You’re quite pretty, aren’t you? Did it hurt when you fell out of heaven?”

“Wh – ” Chloe is about to ask how he knows that she and John actually did fall out of heaven, before she realizes that this is once more overlooking the larger concern. “Lucifer, what are you talking about? It’s me. Chloe.”

“Chloe?” He eyeballs her up and down. “Definitely a ten, you’ll be happy to know. Great cheekbones. Really spectacular tits, too.”

“Wow,” John says. “He’s a real winner.”

“And who are you?” Lucifer’s head rolls in his direction. “You’re a bit too square-jawed and self-righteous for my taste, but we can make do. Devil’s threesome, is it?” He reaches for the buttons of his grubby shirt. “Not feeling quite myself, but if you give me a moment, I’m sure – ”

Chloe smacks his hand down, mortified. “Lucifer! That is my father!”

“Your father?” He stares again, then sighs deeply and shakes his head. “Well, that’s just the way to spoil all my fun, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” John says coldly. “I think I’ve seen enough.”

“No, seriously. There’s something wrong with him.”

“I’d say there is.”

“I mean this isn’t like him. It used to be, when we met, but. . .” Chloe looks around for something that could have possibly wrought such an alarming change in Lucifer, a reversion to the point that he doesn’t even recognize her and thinks she’s some random hell floozy, or whatever is going on in his tiny little mind. Her eye falls on the river, its alluring black waters that whisper and sparkle, promising ease and comfort and oblivion. “Lucifer, did you drink from that?”

He peers at it blurrily. “Must’ve.”

“What is it?”

“River Lethe, darling. Makes you forget all your troubles. Poof.” He waves an airy hand. “Really good, want a shot? Only you’re human, it would definitely erase everything for good.”

“Why would you drink from the river of forgetfulness?” She practically shakes him.

“Can’t remember. That’s the point.” He giggles. “Give me a kiss, it might help.”

“I am absolutely not kissing you,” Chloe says coldly. “Smacking you upside the head, maybe.”

“Ooh, like to play rough, do you?” He does that old lascivious thing with his tongue. “Go on, hit me. Really put some extra mustard into it.”

Chloe considers him, then does as ordered. It feels good.

“Ow.” Lucifer touches his slapped cheek gingerly. “That hurt.”

“Yeah, buddy. It does. You know why? No, of course you don’t, because you drank from that stupid river and blottoed yourself out and are now acting like a complete dick in front of me and my dad, who’s actually here to help us and not to listen to you embarrass yourself. Because I’ve always been able to hurt you, and we’ve never even known exactly why.” Chloe’s voice is rough, but she’s afraid it’s going to break, and she refuses to let that happen. “So either you wake the literal hell up and get your shit together, or we keep up with the smacking and see what that does. I’m willing to commit for as many as it takes.”

Lucifer stares at her with that same fuddled expression, but something about this seems to pierce the fog. He keeps on staring, dark brows drawn, until slowly, a look of mingled shock and horror crosses his face. “Ch. . .” he says, tongue fuzzy. “Chloe?”

“Yes. Who did you think it was?”

“But you – ” He sits bolt upright, clearly regrets it, and groans. “You’re – you’re not supposed to be here! This is just another trick, isn’t it? After what the bloody tree did to me earlier? You’re not here, just like you weren’t last time. You’re in Purgatory or Heaven or Earth or literally any-bloody-where but here. You can’t be.”

Chloe is about to ask if he had some kind of vision of her earlier, if hell actually did affect him, but stops. “Well, it’s not a trick. I came back for you.”

“You. . .” Clearly this is not even in the realm of computing for him. “No! I sent you on so you could leave, Detective! To go back to Earth, to your family! What the blazes could possibly make you want to – ”

“Lucifer, I just said it. I’m not leaving you behind here. I – I met your sisters. If I can get their attention again, I think they’ll get all of us out. We just have to – ”

“No.” He looks aghast. “No, that’s just what Mum wanted in the first place! Have someone come along to pluck you out of here, and she can tag along! And you – ”

He stops. He looks sickened.

“What?” Chloe puts a hand on his shoulder, gives him a little shake. “What?”

“You. . .” He rubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Detective. I would have warned you if I’d known. I’m sorry that you. . . I’m sorry that my bloody father did what he. . . well, there’s no help for it, no point dragging it out. Just go. It’s easier that way. It’s probably what you actually want to do, isn’t it? Pop off with Daddy here, and. . .”

He stops again. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I wouldn’t have done any of it to you, if I’d known.”

Chloe begins to wonder if he’s not actually back to himself, but she’s slapped him into a different personality instead. “Lucifer, what are you talking – ”

“That you. . .” He can’t seem to bring himself to say it, then tries again, furious with himself. “I know you don’t really like me, Detective. You’ve said so, after all. Many times. If I was smart, I’d have worked it out before, but we all know I’m not. Or maybe I never bloody asked because I was too afraid that this would be the answer. You’re just one of Dad’s toys. His blackmail for me.” He turns his head. “I don’t want you to have that life. You need to get away from me.”

Chloe’s stomach does an unpleasant flip as she recalls how Gabriel and Azrael seemed oddly willing to help her and her dad, how she thought it couldn’t be the same for just any mortal who wandered in there, even one who has visited both heaven and hell while still living, and who loves the Devil. She almost preferred blissful, babbling Lucifer to this version. “Tell me what you’re talking about, right now.”

“You. . .” He fumbles for the words. “You only ever kept me around because you were forced to. Of course you couldn’t actually care for someone like me.”

“What? No. That’s not true. I chose it. Lucifer, just shut up and listen to me. Nobody forced me to do anything. I chose you. I chose what happened, the same way you chose to follow me down here, and I chose to come back. I don’t believe in fate, remember? Any of that. I – Lucifer, your mother asked me to betray you at the trial, and in return, she would make Perry Smith plead guilty, and I – like I said, you are the best partner I have ever had. The best.” She doesn’t know if she’s making sense, can only hear the way the words are spilling out of her, sharp and raw and jumbled. “I didn’t do it. I wanted him to go to jail more than anything for killing my dad, but – ”

“Whoa,” John Decker says. “Chloe. What are you – back in heaven, I asked about Joe Fields – ”

“Joe Fields didn’t kill you. He made a deal from the prison warden, Perry Smith, to take the fall for your murder and get payments for his daughter.” Chloe closes her eyes, vainly fighting tears. She can’t believe she is saying this in front of them, in front of both of them. “He’s dead. Smith is the one who did it – he was arrested, Lucifer and Maze and I – you don’t know Maze, but we arrested him – but he got off. I – Dad, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have made sure Perry Smith went to jail, I had my chance, but I – I couldn’t – ”

“Hey.” John puts a hand on her shoulder, gripping hard. “Chloe, sweetheart. Take a breath.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe cries again, stumbling to her feet, as her dad reaches for her and hugs her hard, chin on her head. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I let you down, and if you’re angry with me, I – ”

“Shhh. Monkey, shh.” He continues to hold her tightly, and she gasps a few strangled sobs into his shoulder, not even able to look yet to see how Lucifer is taking this. He seems to have become convinced for some inexplicable reason that she can’t possibly have any genuine affection for him, that it’s been all a crass and cynical manipulation, that there is no possible way she could actually have gone from finding him utterly obnoxious to burning her ticket home in order to take a chance to come back to hell and save him too. He’s wrong, because Lucifer is always wrong about everything when it comes to emotions, but to blurt out in front of her dad that she loved the Devil more than justice for him – it sounds stupid, impetuous, shallow, like she’s betrayed everything he wanted her to be, failed in his memory and in her attempts to ever be as good as him. She can’t. She can’t.

But she’s Chloe Decker, and she can. She has to. And she does.

After a long moment, Chloe pulls herself together, with a raw, gulping breath. “Dad,” she says again. “I don’t – ”

“Shh,” he says again, eyes glittering. “Listen to me, baby. I’m dead, remember? I’ve been dead for almost twenty years now. You can’t live a life beholden to what I should have done, what I might have done – it’s not what’s going to happen. I don’t want that for you. I never have.”

“But I. . .” Chloe sniffs. “Dad. . .”

“Look,” John Decker says. “I don’t get your relationship with. . . him.” He raises an eyebrow coldly at Lucifer, who raises an eyebrow coldly right back. “Obviously, I can’t. But I’m also not going to yell at you for growing up. My little girl. I – that’s how I remember you, because you were only nineteen when I died. But you’re not that. You’re a grown woman. You have a life. You’ve changed. And you. . .” He swallows. “You have had to let me go.”

Chloe doesn’t know what to say. She feels completely gutted. “I don’t want to,” she says, half in a whisper. “I don’t want to let you go, Dad.”

“Baby, I don’t want to either.” His voice breaks in earnest. “Why do you think I volunteered to come with you? As I said, I want all the time in the world with you, all the time we never got to have. But we do have this. We have now. I’m not leaving you just yet. We still have to finish this. We still have to work out how. Hey. Decker Can-Do.”

“Decker Can-Do.” Chloe smiles, eyes watery. It’s only then she dares to glance at Lucifer, who looks pole-axed. This might be the first time in his life that he has seen a father absolving and forgiving a child for not being enough, for not doing everything the father wanted for them (or at least, what the child thinks the father wanted from them). Right in the middle of whatever stupid spiel he was on, about how his father has only used her as a plaything and a puppet. Her father telling her to let go, to move on. That she has to live for her, and not for him, and that he loves her anyway.

“I. . .” Lucifer begins, opens and shuts his mouth. “Detective, I. . .”

“Shut up,” Chloe says. Steps away, kneels in front of him, and – having found before that it is an excellent way to make him put a cork in whatever tangent he is on, not caring that her dad is right there, not caring – kisses the absolute daylights out of Lucifer. With extra mustard.

When they finally break apart, Lucifer looks utterly bedazzled, John Decker has cleared his throat loudly several times, and Chloe takes another deep breath, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says hoarsely, “and frankly, right now, I don’t care. It’s true. We still have to get out of here. Both of us. So come on.”

Lucifer blinks several more times, looks at her face, her offered hand, and does not seem quite sure how to respond. It’s clearly still his instinct to think that she’s lying or being shoehorned into this, that there is a catch, that this is one of his own diabolical deals reflected back on him. Does he take her hand because he wants to, or does he not take her hand because he thinks it’s what his dad wants him to do, and he refuses to do what he thinks his dad wants him to do, even at the cost of his own happiness? Even if it’s her. Even if it’s them. Even if she has always been the one thing in heaven or earth or hell that he cannot stand to lose.

Her dad told her that it wasn’t about what he wanted, or what she thought she owed to him, but what she chose, how she wanted to live. It’s impossible to say if that’s having any effect on Lucifer at all.

“Lucifer,” Chloe says quietly. “Please.”

He hesitates a final moment, then nods. Starts to reach for her.

“Well,” a familiar voice says, just out of sight, among the darkness of the twisted roots. “That took long enough. Now it is, at last, finally time to get on with it.”

#lucifer on fox #deckerstar #deckerstar ff #chlucifer #lucifer #the inferno #yeah so #sorry for the hella long time between updates #but in honour of the show returning #i finally finished it woot

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