#sam winchester x samael

[ladylilithprime]

22 (Sad kiss) Samcest? =^o.o^=

22. Sad kiss

SAM WRENCHED HIMSELF out of sleep’s tenuous and uncomfortable grip with a gasp, the remembered image of Jess pinned to the ceiling and wreathed in flames superimposed over the dim hotel room for two agonizing heartbeats before it faded, leaving Sam gasping and shuddering in the dark, cheeks wet with tears and throat stripped raw from screams he hoped hadn’t actually escaped. Silence pressed in around him, heavy with the absence of Dean’s familiar snuffles and snores of sleep or his more familiar half-awake grumbles at being dragged to consciousness by Sam’s distress; his brother wasn’t back yet, and Sam ached with the lack of his brother to anchor him.

The ache sharpened as he stumbled from the bed towards the tiny bathroom, shaking fingers nudging the light switch upwards as he fumbled with the taps. Water burst from the spigot in time with the flare of yellow light from the bathroom’s faltering bulb. Sam’s stinging eyes flinched shut even as he shoved his hands into the spray, heedless of the temperature, and bent to splash a double handful of icy water over his face. Fully awake now, if no less shaken, Sam braced his hands on the edge of the sink and forced his lungs to draw in air and push it back out again without choking on acrid smoke thick with copper and sulfur that wasn’t even there.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this to yourself.”

A lifetime of hunter’s reflexes, rusty as they might be, had Sam whirling around and sending the nearest object to hand - the cheap hotel soap bar - flying towards the unexpected voice before he had even registered fully that there was somehow another person in the room behind him without the door opening. Fear clutched at Sam’s chest as his eyes tracked the path of the soap through the air to the man standing a few feet behind him in the motel room, the soap smacking too neatly into the open palm of the hand held ready to catch the impromptu projectile.

“Your reflexes aren’t as rusty as you think, by the way,” the man said, a wry sort of smile curving his lips even as Sam stared in something between shock and horror. “And your wards are still intact, although you could stand to add a few more. Salt lines don’t do much against things that can bypass thresholds by ignoring walls. They don’t work against regular humans, either.”

“What are you?” Sam rasped, eyes darting around the bathroom for some sort of weapon without looking away from the stranger in front of him for more than a second.

“As human as you are,” the man said. Sam stilled when the man laughed, a tiny self-deprecating chuckle. “Which I guess isn’t all that reassuring, depending on how much you know about yourself.”

As Sam watched, the man turned and walked to the night table in between the beds, deftly avoiding Dean’s duffle in the dark as if he knew exactly where not to step. Sam drifted silently out of the bathroom, watching warily as the man pulled open the drawer and retrieved the complimentary pad of paper and pen and started writing something. He was too far away for Sam to get a good look at what it was, and Sam’s bag was closer. He made it two steps towards the bag before the man spoke again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot or stab me. It won’t do anything except leave holes in my clothes that I’ll have to explain to Dean when I get back.”

“Who are you?” Sam asked, taking another slow step towards his bag without looking away from the strange man’s back.

“Depends on who you ask,” the man answered without looking up. “Some people call me Sam, some call me Samael... Dean still calls me Sammy, and I’ve given up trying to get him to do otherwise.”

“No,” Sam denied, shaking his head and stepping closer to his bag. One more step and he could reach his gun.... “You can’t possibly expect me to believe--”

“I’m you,” the man finished, straightening up and turning around. The light from the bathroom fell across his face, turning green eyes briefly gold. Sam swallowed.

“No...” he repeated weakly, shaking his head again.

“I know, it sounds impossible. I look too old to be you, shifters can only look like a person’s current age, and you haven’t encountered time travel yet. Here,” the man held out the sheet of paper he had been writing on. “These are some basic wards that you should memorize and put up before we talk too much more.”

“Why should I even believe you?” Sam burst out, fists clenching tight. This couldn’t be real, it couldn’t. The man shrugged.

“Good question. You don’t even know how you even expect me to prove myself because shifters know everything the person they shift to knows, and calling Dean - your Dean - would just put another itchy trigger finger into an already tense situation,” he said, still holding out the paper. “Wards, Sam. I’m only supposed to be here for half an hour.”

The mention of a time limit galvanized Sam and he grabbed the paper, trying not to show his surprise when the stranger provided no resistance. Eyeing the man warily, he finished the trek to his duffle and pulled out a silver knife, holding it at the ready before he lowered his eyes to the paper. The blue ink of the hotel pen had gotten something of a workout in the making of the sigils that marched down one side of the paper. Sam swallowed tightly at the sight of his own familiar handwriting scrawling out brief descriptions of each sigil’s purpose until his eye caught on one specific word. “Angel wards?” he gasped.

“Enochian wards are stronger than just about any other wards out there against demons,” the man - if he was a man - said dryly. Sam shot him a narrow look, and he held up his hands. “I swear by the Light of Heaven, no harm will come to you or Dean from using those wards, Sam, but I’ve only got twenty minutes left.”

“You’re going to explain once these are up,” Sam demanded, just short of petulant, but he cut his hand and began carefully tracing out the different sigils in a line along the nearest wall of the motel room. Despite his impatience, he took just enough time over each to make sure he got the lines exactly right. He hesitated over the last, eyeing his current visitor. “Truth compulsion?”

“So you know I’m not lying to you,” the man said, lips twitching upwards. “It’s not normally part of the ward schematic, but under the circumstances it can’t hurt. Though if you decide you want to ask Dean a few pointed questions while it’s up....”

“So it works on anyone in the room?” Sam asked with a frown. “For how long?”

“Anyone who enters the room, and until they leave the room or you break the sigil,” was the response. Sam hesitated, but went ahead and drew the sigil carefully over the floral wallpaper. He jumped when another hand brushed the edge of his cut and then stared at the smooth, unbroken skin. “What are you?” he whispered again, slowly raising his eyes to look at the man who looked way too much like him for comfort.

“Just as human as you are,” Samael said softly, a small, sad smile crossing his face briefly. “The alignment’s a little different than anyone thinks, though. You’re me, I know you’ve felt something off inside you for a really long time, like something pulling you left of center.”

“These powers....” Sam whispered.

“Are yours alone,” Samael finished. “Yellow-Eyes may try and claim he gave them to you that night, but that’s a lie. You wouldn’t have these powers if they weren’t in you from birth. All he did was stick a control lever in you so he could turn them on and off.”

“How do I get rid of them?” Sam asked, then blinked as he realized Samael had spoken the words in unison with him. Samael smirked slightly.

“I’m you, remember?” he said, almost playfully, before the smile fell. “You can try not using them, though it won’t work too well. Any time Dean is in danger, those powers will jump to be used, because we will do anything to save our big brother... and that’s what Hell is counting on, along with Dean being willing to do anything, even sell his soul, to keep you alive and safe.”

“H-how do I get the... control lever out?” Sam asked shakily. Samael didn’t look surprised at the question. Sam guessed he must have been expecting it.

“The control lever was set with blood that Azazel - Yellow-Eyes - dripped into our mouth the night he killed Mom,” came the staggering answer. “To counter it, you need to ingest it’s direct antithesis - angel blood - from an angel willing to direct the purge of the demon’s poison.” Samael’s hand, which had not let go of Sam’s at all, squeezed gently. “Are you sure you want this? Once it’s gone, your powers will be a lot stronger, but also difficult to control. You’ll need help, and Dean won’t be able to help you. Not the way he’ll want to.”

“You’re telling me that I have d-demon blood in me, and you really think I don’t want it out?” Sam asked incredulously. “I thought you were supposed to be me!”

“If either of us was what we were supposed to be, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Samael said. Sam scowled, pursing his lips in displeasure, and causing Samael to blink, then snort. “Now I know why Dean calls that expression a ‘bitchface’.”

“In case it wasn’t clear,” Sam gritted out, “yes, Samael, I want the demon blood purged.”

“Okay, okay,” Samael shook his head and stepped right up into Sam’s personal space, the hand not holding his coming up to cup the back of Sam’s head as Sam froze. Samael smiled softly and tilted his head up to brush a feather light kiss across Sam’s forehead. “Just a piece of advice, though? Never say the word ‘yes’ to an angel.”

Before Sam could draw breath to ask why not, Samael covered his lips with his own. They were dry and slightly chapped, and Sam automatically flicked out his tongue to wet them as well as his own. There was a huff of breath, a small vibration, and then the press of lips became firmer, another tongue pushing its way past Sam’s lips into his mouth. Thick liquid that tasted like copper and tingled like mint and ice followed, filling Sam’s mouth relentlessly until he had to swallow or choke on it. The ice spread from his mouth down his throat and into his chest, racing outwards to fill his entire body. Sam thought he could see the shadows of huge wings spread wide against the far wall behind Samael before the world went white.

When he could finally open his eyes again, he was somehow back in his bed and the room was empty.

[nathyfaith]

Trickster’s Sanctuary by @sageclover61

Sam sighed, taking a seat across from Dean. The hours he had spent with Michael had helped him gain a little bit of perspective. Dean didn’t hate him and for right now, that was what mattered. He settled on, “I’m not sure. But that’s okay too.”

“Gabriel discovered something interesting about Dean’s soul before he left,” Castiel said. “He wanted to tell Mom, but they weren’t back.”

Michael tilted his head. “I learned something interesting too. Do you think they’re back now? I think they’d like to hear this.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

Castiel looked at Dean again. “I’m aware that John Winchester left something to be desired with his skills as a parent. But at the very least, Sigyn and Loki don’t deserve to be left wondering what happened to the last of their children.”

Dean rested his elbows on the table and put his hands on his face. “Okay,” he said finally. “Okay.”

[delabor]

☠ — headcanon::  @soulstcne​ wrote a fantasti c prompt

okay but like. in any series or movie, like any screen adaptation, how do you imagine your character would be introduced? like. hela steps through a terrifying portal into the planet, then breaks mjolnir and yeets her brothers out of the bifrost. kaz brek.ker uses the tip of his cane to stop jesper from pocketing the money at the casino table while offering some sharp advice. but if you could create, or recreate, the perfect entrance scene for your muse in their series or movie, what would it be?

supernatural; after gadreel left sam as a vessel. reapers taking preemptive souls; perhaps late season 9 to stop metatron; or some other ongoing crisis.

castiel; with frown: there’s an angel that has recently left hell and been heard to be back on earth. he might be able to help with (ongoing crisis.). an archangel. winchester brother: he just  l e f t   h e l l ? (implication of working with enemy; killing people; etc.) castiel; frowning further; thoughtful: his work is quite distinctive. i would know if he were involved.

decided; they use a scrying spell to track location                ;                   summoning is either unsuccessful or untested & unexplained.  (commercial break) with a lock on location; all arrive at a busy night club. “t h i s is where an angel is?” winchester brother asks; face painted in neon light. some quips about location;               patrons with short dresses       & remarks about how  u s e f u l  the angel would be if they’re hanging out here.                            castiel’s staring at his scrying compass. may get in right away;         or bit about not getting past the bouncer & having to break in through back door. scrying leads through crowds; music to door.                                    everyone pauses. camara zoom         ;                                it’s a restroom. shot of glancing at each other; then entering. restroom is busy; crowds of (men or women) slowly clear somewhat; compass points to occupied stall;            walls rattling; obscene suggestive noises; brief.                      castiel: perturbed.           sam: uncomfortable; glancing around room at other people.                  dean: visibly confused. door slams open;         everyone jumps. flirting; drunk; talking overloud to woman in stall; samael stumbles out; as if having leaned on flimsy lock. catches himself on edge of open door; camera shot from shoulders up; back of head; hair tousled. laugh; slight stumble; turn; starting to do up jeans.              pauses with hands on undone fly; surprise.

samael: castiel?

pan to castiel; looks as if he may be regretting this decision already. winchester brothers look over at each other; slow. (commercial break)

fade in; samael sitting in motel chair; beside table; rickety; afront five or six wrapped hamburgers & one takeout cup of soda. eats enthusiastically; moans; chews. wide stance on small chair.       wearing sunglasses inside?           at night? winchester brothers have arms crossed; one or both is scowling. castiel; tired.           (left to audience: how they changed location; how he got the food)

samael: m m, thanks for the grub. real tight, hits the spot. forgot my wallet on the other side (cheeky) dean: yeah, what gives? i thought angels weren’t supposed to eat. samael: i thought you were supposed to be taller, but sometimes things happen. dean; insulted:   e x c u s e   m e ?  samael: excuse you. (takes off sunglasses) you’re excused. i’m not here for you anyway. sam; suspicious & before dean can cut in: oh yeah? who are you here for? samael; waving food: castiel. my new favorite brother. castiel: we’ve never met. samael: and? sam: you’re here to kill him?  samael: what? no. i’m here to get fashion tips. the coat is sick. (sarcasm) someone: (explains problem) you need to help us with (crisis) samael; laugh: yeah, no. i’m not doing that. dean: why the hell not? samael; squint: i don’t feel like it, big shot. i’m on vacation. and very busy. dean: you were in a  n i g h t   c l u b . samael: if you just left hell wouldn’t you want to get some? it’s smelly down there. and everyone’s complaining about their hellfire burns. sam: you’re an archangel, it’s your responsibility. samael: do i look like i give a fart? someone: (righteous speech) samael; interrupting with loud noises from nearly empty cup:             r i g h t. let’s put it this way,  y o u   were born to be vessels, h e was created to be a soldier for the big poopah. if you want to step up and be bitch boy for all time destiny then maybe i’ll take up my mantle. but until then i think i’m good. (stands; stuffing burgers into pockets) if this is all i’m going to go. if you ever want to party mindlessly i’m down, but if you’re not drinking and wenching i’m busy. my phone’s on do not disturb. samael: (flies off) dean: (goes off about how that was a waste of time)

plot is eventually saved                ;           either by castiel who meets samael one to one  & gets information of him with tit for tat               ;  or by the cup he left he’d been drinking out of. resemblance between he & sam goes unmentioned for long enough the fans start to despair. brought up by sam in later episode       ;                  samael claims doesn’t see a resemblance  & frankly he’s insulted sam would presume to compare himself to an angel. sam leaves; annoyed. bystander asks if that’s really the case & samael explains ancestry & admits to only saying that to get a rise. it’s not mentioned again.

[thewriterwithnoplan]

The Huntress From Hell (Part 11)

Summary: Luci Samael Morningstar daughter of Lucifer and the angel Azrael . Marked as the heiress of hell, Luci might be in a smidge of trouble when she falls into an alternate universe. Here demons run rampant and angels aren’t so high and mighty. With monsters lurking around every corner she needs to turn tail and get the hell out of there. If only. Pairing: Supernatural x OC x Lucifer (Fox) Word Count: 1097 Warnings: None.

Luci was not the type to revel in the so called delight of hellish torture. But boy did it feel good as hell to be back beside the throne, where she belonged. Crowley had been delighted with the newfound level of loyalty from the demons of hell. Each becoming all the more cautious of the self proclaimed king now that a Morningstar sat at his side.

Crowley had even sweetened the deal for Luci. He'd proclaimed her his own heir two weeks after working together. It seemed he'd much rather her be the next in line for the throne over Lucifer. Here the demons weren't blindly loyal or at least Crowley wasn't. The rest hailed Lucifer as a god and that intrigued Luci beyond measure.

"I'm bored!" Luci proclaimed from he smaller throne beside the kings. She eyed the quivering demon who'd been droning about his latest deal. "Let's go stir some trouble."

Crowley silently dismissed the poor excuse of a cross roads demon and stood. Holding out a hand for Luci, which she took, Crowley zapped them to some random crossroad. An aged man was hopping from foot to foot looking rather afraid. He turned and took in the two of them.

"Mr. Pendleton, I presume." Crowley gave the man an adders grin. Pendleton turned and seemed to gape at the pair. He'd expected someone else then. "The names Crowley. I understand you've been in dealings with one of my underlings. But you, piggy bank, you are a big fish, and I wanted to do you the honor of sealing this deal personally."

Pendleton gulped "She said the deal would be sealed with a kiss-" Crowley nodded. "What about the girl? Can't I make a deal with her?"

Crowley snickered and flashed his red eyes, "I'm afraid Luci here isn't in the business."

The man who was by no means a modest man, if the limo behind him were anything to go off, simply stared. Homophobic then. Luci like many of the celestials in the Beta Universe, including her father and Mazikeen, didn't have a preference of partner. She always found racism, sexism and the likes to be the pinocle of human stupidity.

Luci matched Crowley's grin and began to stalk slow threatening circles around the man. He quivered under their impassive gazes. Crowley seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself as he poked fun at the man's fear.

"Going once-" Crowley pushed his face up into the mans. "Going twice."

Pendleton gave one final shudder of disgust before lip locking the king of hell. Over the past weeks working beside Crowley in such matters of hell, Luci had come to view him as a brotherly - almost uncle like - figure. So the sight of him full on lip smacking someone was enough to make her want to gag. But she hid it behind the well practise Morningstar smirk that had kept even the most violent of demons in check.

Yes, Luci made a fabulous hunter but it seemed right to be back here - even in another universe. Back at the side of the king of hell. Luci Samael Morningstar was where she belonged, as the Heiress of hell. She wasn't sure why she'd denied that much. When she was doing it by choice it was almost as fun as being a detective in LA or a Huntress wherever the wind took her.

***

Luci flopped onto the couch beside Crowley, handing him a glass of scotch. She swirled her own staring at the black and white film that seemed to drone on. Huffing she grabbed the remote off Crowley and flipped through a few channels. Cooking show? No. News? Boring. Drama series? Nope, nope definitely not. Especially since Crowley had insisted on binging the last one they'd watched. Action movie? Meh, okay- The screen turned black.

"What did you do?" Crowley lurched forward, swiping for the remote. The lights flickered off. "Ah. That'd explain it." He downed the last of the alcohol before stalking out.

Throwing the remote dejectedly she threw her legs across the vacated couch, pouring a second glass of scotch for herself. Sipping delicately she waited for the electricity to click back on. Only it didn't. Placing her glass down carefully she stood. Luci glanced around the room, marking the exits and quietly unsheathing Nightbane.

Luci inched for the door scanning each shadow as she went. Heiress or no, she was no idiot. A gun shot rang through the mansion, followed by a second. Luci was running for the hall Crowley had left through before she could give it another thought. She found two dead demons and a devil trapped rug. Luci followed the hall up to Crowley's office and barged right through the door.

"You realise two of the demons are lying dead outside right," Luci shoved Nightbane back into it's sheath. She took a double take of the room, paused and looked at the two visitors. She blinked.

Sam and Dean Winchester stared at Luci. Their Huntress friend who had just spoken so casually to the king of hell after being missing for almost half a year. Luci Morningstar stared right back at the Winchesters. She'd by no means missed the rumours about their breaking the sixty-sixth seal and releasing this universes crazed Lucifer. Whatever that meant.

"Sam, Dean." Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets. "Meet my Protégée."

"Luci?" They whirled upon her. "You've been working with a demon? The frickin' king of demons!"

Luci raised her hand, "An anti-Lucifer demon, for anti-Lucifer purposes."

There was a pause that stretched between them. Luci looked to Crowley who simply winked and disappeared. Asshole. Chuckling slightly Luci lowered her hands, looking from Dean who held Ruby's blade to Sam who held the Colt.

"You wanna explain what's going on?" Dean glared before hissing, "Or is there no need."

Luci grinned, looping her thumbs through her belt. "While you boys kick started the apocalypse, I've been amassing a small army of favours. Thursday in Carthage, Missouri Lucifer has a date with that gun of yours."

There was a moment of silence before the brothers lowed their weapons. "An army?"

"Human and Demons, lets just say they owe me a few. What d'you say we go save the world boys?" Luci held the door open.

Dean gave a childishly excited grin at the thought of an army on their side for once. Even as he said - "This doesn't make up for running off to work with a demon." - she knew it was more then enough to make up for it.

[thewriterwithnoplan]

The Huntress From Hell (Part 7)

Summary: Luci Samael Morningstar daughter of Lucifer and the angel Azrael . Marked as the heiress of hell, Luci might be in a smidge of trouble when she falls into an alternate universe. Here demons run rampant and angels aren’t so high and mighty. With monsters lurking around every corner she needs to turn tail and get the hell out of there. If only. Pairing: Supernatural x OC x Lucifer (Fox) Word Count: 1005 Warnings: None.

TWO YEARS AFTER THE ATTACK

Life is weird. It takes your family, the people you were born to, the people you bonded with. But it can also give you a new family. Luci loved her new family, the Winchesters. Sam, Dean and Bobby. It'd been two years since they'd taken her in. Two years since her father, Trixie, Maze, Linda, Ella and Chloe were left behind in what was no doubt another universe. She'd checked, there was no returning, not yet anyways.

Luci was raging down the highway in her car, still a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette she'd tracked one down upon arriving. Sam had called her a week ago, Dean was alive. She would have come earlier, she was kicking herself for not but she had been halfway through a nest of vampires. Yes, two years had been a long time for the heiress, now huntress.

Pulling into the motel carpark at midmorning she sprung from the treasured car and sprinted for the room. 516. Luci ignored the ornate knocker and waltzed into the room. Sam and Dean turned, guns aimed at her chest. They quickly lowered only for flasks to be pulled out and holy water to drench the huntress.

"Nice to see you too Dean," Luci spat the water out with a grin. The man gave an amused scoff and enveloped her in his arms.

"It's been too long Luc," His chuckle reverberated through the woman who echoed the joyous noise. Before long the three were sprawled on the motel couch, each nursing a beer and talking like nothing had happened. A careful avoidance of hell constantly hanging between them but it went mostly unnoticed.  

"So Luci," Sam smiled. "Where'd you run off to when I left? Bobby said you were looking for me."

"Eh for a bit," She shrugged. "Then I tried getting Dean out of hell, no dice. So I went back to hunting, the usual you know. A couple vampires here, werewolf there, caught some demons along the way."

"Good, good." The tallest Winchester grinned. "Didn't get into too much trouble?"

"Like I'm the trouble maker," She rolled her eyes. "I recall saving two asses wrapped in plaid countless times."

The conversation continued to flow. Luci found herself admiring the brothers. It had been almost five months she'd seen both alive and well together. The thought alone had a small smile spreading across her chapped lips. The hunting life was still new and there were things to learn around each corner but this universe was as homely as her own.

"Winchester and Winchester," Luci's head snapped abnormally fast toward the voice. A pair of men stood in the room, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. One in a trench coat, the other in a fine suit.

The Huntress was on her feet before the suited one could take a step. Azrael's blade whined from the leather scabbard at her belt. The same belt held the second piece of the flaming sword - the buckle but she left it there for the moment. Pointing it at the more threatening of the two, the suited man who raised an eyebrow at her action. She knew exactly who they were, angels.

"Oh come on," Dean groaned and slammed his beer down onto the table. He knew them then. The suited man gave the Winchesters a disgusted look, "You are needed." "Needed? We just got back from needed." They knew them very well apparently. "Someone going to give the introduce me?" Luci glared at Sam and Dean, holding the blade demandingly. "Or is there no need?"

Sam gave her a warning look, "This is Castiel-" He pointed to the trench coat man. "And Uriel. They're angels, they're the ones who got Dean out of hell."

Luci paused, the knife sagging in her grip but not falling. Uriel, she remembered her uncle, the one who'd threatened so much pain. Her grandmothers life or Chloe's, she remembered holding him while Lucifer drove Azrael's blade through his chest. It had eaten her alive, gotten her locked in a hell scape at one point. All that guilt and pain and grief flooded back as she gaped open mouthed at what claimed to be her uncle. He looked nothing like her universes Uriel but- there was no hesitation in anyones eyes.

"It's-" She took a deep steadying breath in. "Nice to meet you, Uriel."

"You are?"

"Luci," She breathed watching him carefully, even as she held firm to her mothers blade. Then she glanced to the other angel who watched her curiously. "A pleasure, Castiel. Thank you for bringing Dean back, it is more than appreciated."

Uriel rolled his eyes. That seemed to snap Luci from her daze if only for a moment. She shoved her blade back into her belt and squinted at the two angels as they explained their demand to the Winchesters.

"Several angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight," Uriel explained. "We have Alastair but we can't get him to crack."

Sending Sam a questioning look, Luci listened as he explained who Alastair was. A demon and of the highest caliber if she knew anything about hell. And as Dean put it, this Alastair guy was a "Black belt in torture". She believed him, even before he explained that Alastair had administered his torture himself.

"Dean," Castiel eventually spoke up, "As his student, you are our best hope."

"No. No way," Dean screwed his eyes shut. "You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this."

Luci stared at the back and forth exchange, as the pair argued. She, of course, sided with Dean. It was wholly unfair on his half. Especially if they'd been running around in the angel's debt like the Winchester said. Luci frowned at the angel who bore her uncles name.

"Who said anything about asking?" Uriel moved to touch Dean's shoulder. Luci was there in an instant, blocking his way. A feeling like being sucked through a vacuum cleaner seized her whole body.

[thewriterwithnoplan]

The Huntress From Hell (Part 10)

Summary: Luci Samael Morningstar daughter of Lucifer and the angel Azrael . Marked as the heiress of hell, Luci might be in a smidge of trouble when she falls into an alternate universe. Here demons run rampant and angels aren’t so high and mighty. With monsters lurking around every corner she needs to turn tail and get the hell out of there. If only. Pairing: Supernatural x OC x Lucifer (Fox) Word Count: 1131 Warnings: None.

It had been months since Sam or Dean had contact with Luci. They hadn't been surprised though after what had happened. Not that they were sure what happened. Castiel had merely told them that Uriel was gone and he'd left Luci to return the body to heaven. The boys had gone back to the warehouse in search of her, only to find a burnt out husk that had to have been Alastair.

Luci wasn't one to turn tail and run but she was by no means stupid. If Alastair was indeed a reliable source then Lucifer was not one to be messed with. Being his daughter from another universe gave her some form of immunity. Lucifer wasn't a problem to Luci personally. Her real problem was ensuring the Winchesters didn't get killed or try to kill Luci for her being the Heiress of hell.  

So she'd decided that simply disappearing was her best option. Making allies wherever the hell she could. Readying for the on coming apocalypse. If the heavenly host decided that Luci was as much a threat as Lucifer was then she feared they'd go for the Winchesters to get to her. And if this universes Lucifer decided that Luci was no daughter of his then the same could ensue.

The Huntress had cast aside the Winchesters and the life if only for the moment. Until the world stopped needing the heiress of hell. Luci had traveled the country to track down any demon that'd made it topside. She was slowly amassing herself a small army of humans and demons who owed her countless favours.

Different state, town and city each day. She was sure no one could have followed her. For a month she was left alone to her favours. Until of course some demon had to ruin her streak. And by some demon she meant a hoard of them. They'd knocked her out after losing half their party. Dragged her kicking and screaming to a lavish mansion and thrown her to the feet of a suited demon upon an ornate throne.

"Well, well, well," The man chuckled, swirling his crystal glass of scotch. "If it isn't the underdog who's been ruining my business."

Luci stood, blood dripping from her split lip and gleaming in her hair from where she'd collided with a wall. The lead demon chuckled at her boldness as she had taken out Nightbane and whirled upon the demon that had knocked her out. Then she'd stepped out of the devils trap painted on the floor and spat at the lead demons polished shoes.

"I assume we haven't met?" He held up a second glass of alcohol, which despite herself she'd taken because her grandfather knew it'd been a while since she'd had decent scotch. "I'm Crowley, King of hell."

And then she'd spat the scotch onto his shoes. She grinned like an idiot, "Yeah no. I'm not saying squat to a fraud. Bring me Lucifer or at least his next of kin."

"Hate to break it to you sweet heart," Crowley growled. "But Lucifer us currently in the cage and has no next of kin. I assure you, I'm his successor."

Luci had preceded to choke on her scotch, then on air and her own tongue for good measure. No next of kin. Alastair had certainly forgotten a thing or two. What the hell was wrong with this universe? There were vampires, werewolves, twisted demons, dick Angels and every other manner of creature. What this universe didn't have was an Heiress. There was no Luci of this universe.

Holy hell. Luci couldn't fathom what Lucifer, her father, had turned into. She'd invented demons. No wonder these ones were different. How had she not noticed that this world was not just different because there were creatures of the dark but she- Here she didn't exist. No wonder hell was so warped, not just a place of the damned but full of things that wanted souls there. Holy hell. So Luci had spilt her guts, told the king of hell who she was.

"Luci Samael Morningstar, Heiress of hell." She inclined her head to Crowley. "Daughter of Lucifer himself- In another universe of course."

"As pretty as you are darling," The king swirled the liquid in his glass before downing it all. "I'm going to need some proof for obvious reasons."

Expecting nothing less Luci unbuttoned the top of her shirt. It looked simply like a tattoo to anyone who didn't understand celestial customs. A five pointed star in the centre of a circle - a pentagram - with enochian runes etched around it. An insigne as the heavenly host called it though they were rare.

"Bearer of a heart with wings and horns," Crowley translated with an impressed look. "It's a powerful mark. I assume you're from the Beta universe?"

Pushing her shirt back up Luci furrowed at the word, "The what now?"

"You know," He waved his hands about. "The universe before this one. The test run before god decided he wanted to throw in monsters- You never wondered where god went when he disappeared? He's visiting this universe."

"Huh," Luci chewed on the inside of her cheek stowing the information for later. "And you'd know this how?"

"I'm the king of hell, it was in the handbook!" He scoffed. "There's one rule God made to hell, we have to play a recording in all of the cells. Whispers of the light, the demons call it."

Another gem of information, Luci realised. God had created another universe where she wasn't even created but he by no means had forgotten her. Whispers of the light. She was willing to bet her soul that it meant her. Good. She thought. Good that this universe hadn't been allowed to corrupt itself completely. Good that god had ensured the damned souls in the pit had some hope.

She by no means liked the idea of her grandfather hopping between universes, having disposable children. Luci was angered that he'd created this place where evil thrived, where she didn't even exist. But she was interested and curious too. A universe where everything was different, what was right is wrong and wrong was right. It was different. And for a being who'd spent millennia in the same world- Different was good.

So Luci stood before the king of hell and gave a deadly grin, "You have no right to the throne of hell-"

"You-" Crowley began to interrupt before she waved her hand in a silencing motion.

"That's why you need some like me to back you," Crowley blinked then gave a delighted grin to match the heiress'. "In return for a favour of course."

There was a pause, a heartbeat, a moment, a minute-

"I like you. We've got ourselves a deal."

[thewriterwithnoplan]

The Huntress From Hell (Part 9)

Summary: Luci Samael Morningstar daughter of Lucifer and the angel Azrael . Marked as the heiress of hell, Luci might be in a smidge of trouble when she falls into an alternate universe. Here demons run rampant and angels aren’t so high and mighty. With monsters lurking around every corner she needs to turn tail and get the hell out of there. If only. Pairing: Supernatural x OC x Lucifer (Fox) Word Count: 1712 Warnings: None.

“What is it you desire?”

Alastair froze, wriggled around and then withered. He bit his lip, blood pouring down his chin. A minute passed. Another. And another. When five minutes passed, Luci huffed taking a handful of salt and jamming it into his lips. Try keeping it shut now dumbass.

"I-I..."

"Come on, you know you want to tell me. Come on I can keep a secret."

"I want to be king of hell."

Luci gave a delighted grin. King of hell? Impossible and they both knew it. But the soul - no matter how twisted - wanted what it wanted. Or was that the heart? She never could remember those stupid human sayings.

"Well how are you supposed to do that with the angels on your ass?" Luci lent forward. "How about we strike a deal? You tell me who's killing the angels and I can turn a blind eye. You can go off in pursuit of your dream."

He stared blankly even as his lips formed the mesmerised words, "It's not a demon. We have no idea who it is."

Luci snorted, turning to leave the room. Castiel stood watching her through the doorway. Sending a quiet thank you, toward the demon. She may like her own universes type of demon better but she understood that they were kin. Pushing past the trench coat wearing angel and into the other room she perched onto the edge of the table.

"Demons were not involved," Was all she said, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and scraping the dried blood from her face and hands. "Can I go now?"

"No, you're wrong." Castiel rumbled, "You didn't even pick up a weapon, he lied to you."

"People cannot lie to me, not unless they were made by god for a reason." She concentrated on the blood, picking at the flakes. "Take Uriel, he would tell me the truth because he is just a messenger of god. Sam and Dean's parents were matched, they were forced into existence, as I see it. Made for gods purpose and so they could just as easily lie to you as to me."

"What are you?"

A silver blade slid from his coat. The twin to those Tarlen and Yaras had carried. For a brief moment she was back in that warehouse, staring down a pair of angels. Uriel wandered through the doorway, taking up a defensive position at the sight of the blade. Taking a step toward the harsher of the two angels she grinned. Angling herself so his blade touched the centre of her chest. An almost feral smirk curled the corners of her lips. Twisting her face.

"Who are you?" Castiel once again asked.

"Here, I am simply Luci the Huntress." She turned slightly, the blade chilling her skin. "In my own universe-"

"You're why Yaras and Tarlen never returned," Uriel pressed hard enough to slice through the thin fabric of her shirt.

"They went after me and mine," She hissed. "There is nothing I have if not family. So you angels need to leave us well enough alone. That now means the Winchesters."

The blade pressed harder. She was reminded of when times were simpler. When her father was only just becoming a consultant for the LAPD. When she first met Chloe Decker and Trixie. Long, long ago. And she realised that for the first time in millennia she regretted something. Setting down roots here had been her greatest pitfall. For she would have to chose, the Winchesters or the Deckstars - as they were called at the station.

But Luci was not just some creature for these angels to pen.  No, Luci was the creature. She was the flame of heaven and the light of hell. She was a light bringer and Morningstar. She was a Decker, a Winchester. She was Luci Samuel Morningstar and she had a heart with wings and horns. She was part devil, part angel, part demon, part god.

"I am a flame," She whispered to herself. "And I will not go out."

The angels stared, as they should. For she was all things good and evil. She was heaven and hell, a holy sin. She was the holy flame and there was no one like her, not in heaven or hell, not on earth, not in this universe or any other. Fire. Fire. Fire.

Angels were sculpted from marble in the silver city, demons forged in the bowels of hell, humans hewn from stone. She had done all of those. She had been created in heaven and burnt deep in hells pits, then despite all that she'd stood again and carved a new place for herself in the world. Flame of heaven, Light of hell and Huntress of earth.

"Do it," She whispered. "Kill me, here and now. I don't know where I'll go, but I'll be back because heaven could not tame me and hell could not contain me. Just know that when I come back it will not be to help. I did not come here to do a favour, I came to pay a debt and I did. Come for me or mine again and you will not find I am merciful."

"Yours?" Uriel snarled. "Last I checked it was Castiel who's hand print marked the eldest Winchester."

"Unto each soul thy claims, thee shall place a mark. Three lines of the holy language, one for love, one for repent, the last a warning unto thy enemies." Luci breathed. "Hic amor, Vellem, Non enim potest conteram illud. [I'm sorry for this love I wanted; For it can do not but destroy]."

The metal doors crashed open. Sam and Dean took in the scene, growing angrier by the second. The angels had the nerve to demand the eldest help, to take their adopted family member and then put her at blade point? Dean clenched his fist around Ruby's demon blade. The only thing separating him from the angels was Sam's arm as he held his brother back.

The room stayed silent, a quiet showdown as they stared each other down. The Winchesters glaring at the two soldiers of god, who returned the hard look. Though half-heartedly on Castiel's behalf. The huntress standing awkwardly between the two blades. The confidence drained from her as the boys continued to stare.

Easily. Luci could smite these two celestial disgraces easily. But with the boys here? She wasn't so sure they could hold their own against angels. Especially with a toothpick like Ruby's blade. And she didn't want the brothers anywhere near Uriel. Because if he'd done those terrible things in her universe then here-

"Holy hell," Luci breathed. "Uriel. Uriel, look at me! What do you desire more then anything in the world?"

"To raise our brother, Lucifer." The angel whispered, in a trance. He turned to Castle, still glossy eyed and continued, "You do remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful? And he didn't bow to humanity. He was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him."

"You were behind the killings?" Cas lunged at the other angel. "Were you gonna kill the whole garrison?"

Uriel grinned, not a Morningstar smirk, not the type that could draw someone in. No, this smile was the type you ran from, the type you shielded your loved ones from. And that's exactly what Luci did. As the crazed celestial punched Castiel into the wall, Luci went for the Winchesters.

There were no two words in any universe that Luci hated more than; Too late. But those were the only two that she could think in that moment. The moment Uriel ripped a support beam from the roof and it came crumbling down. Luci launched herself and managed only to tackle Sam.

The pair gaped at each other for a moment before scrambling up and throwing rubble around. Looking, looking, looking for the eldest Winchester. Until- A hand. Sam grabbed it as Luci pushed the metal and stone from Dean's form. So quickly that none in the room realised that the Huntress was lifting things far too heavy for average humans.

"Go," Sam grunted to the girl as he hefted his brother over his shoulder. "Stop them from doing something worse."

Luci clambered over the collapsed ceiling. Pausing for a moment to gape at the angels grappling at each other. Uriel gained the upper hand, rolling his brother onto his back and slamming his fist into Castiel's face. Once. Twice. Thrice. His back turned to her. Luci approached until she could hear Uriel's harsh growls.

"There is no will-" Punch. "No wrath-" Punch. "No God."

Luci drew Nightbane. She clenched her fist around the hilt of the blade until her knuckles where white. The huntress drew her breath in slowly and held the blade against the angels back. Uriel rose up again, fist ready to hit the trench coat wearing angel below. Luci found herself with tears in the corners of her eyes as she too drew back. Azrael's blade slid through, Uriel's back for the second time at the hands of Luci Morningstar.

"I didn't see that coming," The man whispered as he fell to the ground, eyes ablaze. A sob tore from Luci's throat, the tears escaping as she fell to her knees beside him. Azrael's blade, still coated in blood clattered to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Castiel stood behind her. The pair watched as two wings etched themselves into the warehouse floor. Luci wondered if they'd wash away with time or if this place was eternally marked with her deed. She wondered if it'd become easier with time, to kill even those who did wrong.

She looked at her hands, stained in blood. "What have I done?"

"You did many angels a great service today," Castiel assured weakly.

Luci looked up at him through glassy eyes. Standing she took Nightbane and stalked into  the room where Alastair still hung from the mangled metal frame. She watched over her shoulder as Castiel picked Uriel up and disappeared. Alastair looked at her curiously, gritting out a few questions and an endless flow of insults. Staring blankly at the demon Luci reached for the holy water, drenching him in it.

"Now you're going to tell me everything you know about Lucifer."

[thewriterwithnoplan]

The Huntress From Hell (Part 8)

Summary: Luci Samael Morningstar daughter of Lucifer and the angel Azrael . Marked as the heiress of hell, Luci might be in a smidge of trouble when she falls into an alternate universe. Here demons run rampant and angels aren’t so high and mighty. With monsters lurking around every corner she needs to turn tail and get the hell out of there. If only. Pairing: Supernatural x OC x Lucifer (Fox) Word Count: 720 Warnings: None.

With a dull crack, the two angels and the huntress where landed in a warehouse. The rusted walls shuddering in the gust of wind the travelling had caused. Luci had no doubt they'd flown, though she also realised that being passenger was much less fun. In this new universe her wings could have come in handy.

"Where's Dean?" Castiel was the first to realise, staring holes in the side of Luci's head.

She returned the steely look, "It was not your place to ask him such things of him. I will get you the information you need, not Dean."

Uriel snorted, beginning slow predatory circles around the girl. Sizing her up, the weapon at her side and her short stature. Marking the dyed blonde hair cut at her collar, the calloused palms and chipped nails. She was beautiful but by no means was her appearance soft. She gave the angel a closed mouthed smile as if daring him.

"What can a-" The angel looked her over again. "Little girl do that a Winchester could not?"

Luci ignored the man entirely and began braiding her hair back. Albeit with a little difficulty due to its short length, though practise helped. From her pocket she produced a strip of leather and tied it round the end. Giving her uncle or not-uncle a signature Morningstar smirk she unsheathed Azrael's blade.

A beat passed as the angels both gazed unimpressed at the blade. Luci followed their look, examining the knife herself. From what little she remembered of her mother, she remembered Azrael telling her about the blade. Nightbane, she'd called it, Slayer of the dead. A fitting name for the blade belonging to the angel of death, Luci supposed.

"Mortals," Uriel huffed with an eye roll. "What are you going to do with that girl?"

Luci grinned and lunged forward. Slicing the side of his suit and cleaving the skin beneath. Thick welts of blood dribbled to the floor, the wound itself glowing hotly. His grace, she supposed as she peered at it bored. Nothing she hadn't seen before, specifically killing Tarlen and Yaras who'd gotten her landed in this universe.

The angels gapped at her as she reached forward ignoring Uriel's protests. She gripped his arm, pressing a thumb over the wound and shoved the tips of her fingers into his blood. Like some expensive makeup she carefully spread it across her face and raked it into her hair. Both Castiel and Uriel continued to stare incredulously at her.

"What are you doing?" The trench coat wearing angel rasped. "How did you cut him?"

Silently Luci waved Nightbane before tucking it into its scabbard. With a finger - covered in blood - pressed to her lips in a quieting motion. She winced as the blood made contact with her mouth but made no move to wipe it away. It would ruin the ruse. So Luci merely haunted into the only closed off room. Leaving the angels to their own devices.

A demon, this universes foul breed, was suspended by each limb in the centre of a devils trap. The room was damp and dimly light. Most likely to intimidate the demon, stupid angels and their idiocy. Even a mortal could have done better, Sam and Dean certainly could, even before hell.

"They sent company," The ageing man looked up, eyes catching and widening on the angel's blood. She was certain he could tell it was angel blood, was relying on it. "Who are you sweetie?"

"I go by many names," She stalked forward, all but ignoring the table covered in weapons and torture devices. "They tell me you go by Alastair. They say your a demon skilled in the art or torture."

A lazy grin, "Name and species sweetheart. Throw in a title or two if your feeling generous."

"Luci," She paused looking at the closed door to where the other angels stood. "They merely call me Light Bringer."

The demon sniffed and screwed up its face. Ignoring the silly creature, strapped to the metal frame she grinned. Five words and she could have any creature singing like a canary. The angels blood, the taunting, the information she pretended to slip. It was all apart of the fun. Being an all powerful antichrist got boring unless it was spiced up.

"What is it you desire?"