#crowley slander hours always | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugar--bee · 1 year

Text

The Dragon in the Mountain

CHAPTER FIVE

Malleus x GN! Reader [Warnings: Crowley Slander]

~AO3 Link~

Working for Night Raven College, MC made several trips through the mountains to deliver letters and packages for the school. Finding themself alone, caught in a blizzard with hardly any strength left, they were certain it was the end. That is until…

(Chapter One)

The trip down the mountain was easy. Malleus was able to ward the rain from the two of them. As they walked he answered their endless questions. His name was Malleus Draconia. Malleus was a dragon AND a fae. The curse was from another mage they hadn’t heard of. Malleus was the fifth most powerful mage in the world. He’d been away from his home for about sixteen years. They asked about his age, but he just chuckled. They only stopped with their questions as they came to the gate of the school late into the night.

Night Raven College was the same as it always was, though watching the rain from inside a bubble gave it more of a surreal aspect. The hour was close to midnight as they walked down the main road and to the castle. Idly they talked about some of the lore of the campus. They’d given tours too much to stop themself from reciting at least parts of their script. Malleus was silent, either listening or ambivalent as they carried on into the castle.

“You know you don’t have to escort me all this way,” they chuckled. They weren’t supposed to bring visitors into the castle without permission, but no one was around at the late hour anyways.

“I would like to.” Malleus offered, though his tone was a bit more severe than it had been on the walk. MC shrugged it off, coming to Crowley’s office.

“Just give me a moment to drop off my delivery,” They offered, excusing themself. Malleus nodded and they knocked on Crowley’s door. Hearing their name called, they entered.

Crowley scowled at them, “Finally you show up! I’ve been waiting all day for you. This is very unprofessional.”

MC sighed, “Ah… I know, I’m sorry.” Pulling out the packages and letters from their bag, they set it on his desk, “I made it back before midnight though!” They pointed out, hopeful.

“Before midnight?!” Crowley spat, “You kept me here until midnight— and look at you! You’re not wet! You changed your clothes, dried your hair, all before coming to me. It’s disrespectful!”

MC gaped, “No— I came here first, really I…” They trailed off, uncertain how to explain themself.

Crowley’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open. He nearly fell to the ground with how fast he took a knee, his head bowed low, his palms flat on the ground. MC took a few steps back, confused as Crowley nearly shouted, “P-Prince Draconia!”

MC turned their head to Malleus, who stood in the doorway. He drew forward gracefully, a look of disgust on his face.

“You’re the holder of their contact?” He asked, his voice latent with venom.

Crowley’s head shot up, a clear panic on his face. He looked like he was trying to smile, but was failing miserably, “Yes… your highness.”

Malleus sneared, clicking his tongue dismissively. Without looking, he pulled his brooch from his lapel, “I’ll pay their release.” He stated.

Both MC and Crowley stared at the brooch, eyes wide. It was gold, ornate, with a gem the size of wine cork. They both knew it was overkill, worth far far more than their contract.

“Ah— of course! That… that will cover the remainder of their contract!” Crowley announced, staring up the gem. Malleus was about to discard the brooch, but before it could leave his hand, MC stopped him.

“Wait— he’s said he was researching how to get my memories back…” MC pointed out, looking down at the Headmage.

Crowley didn’t look away from the brooch, “Oh, it's a lost cause.” He answered quickly.

“What?!” MC frowned, “You said you were still looking–”

“Yes, well,” Crowley cut them off, looking at them briefly, clearly frustrated they were stalling the payment, “I just thought you’d have a little more motivation if you didn’t know.”

MC could only stare, eyes wide and lost as they took in the information.

“What do you mean by a lost cause?”

Crowley’s gaze snapped back to Malleus, the frustration on his face quickly replaced with the same half grin as before, “Ah— well… whatever happened to them there’s no trace of magic left— if it ever was magic at all! So there’s no spell to be undone and mind magic to try and fix it… well I’m certain someone as knowledgeable and astute as yourself knows how dangerous it is.”

Malleus sighed, dropping the brooch lazily. Crowley lunged towards it. Quickly snatching it from the floor, Crowley inspected it closely, murmuring under his breath about the quality and the craftsmanship.

A hand fell onto MC’s shoulder and they looked up to Malleus. Biting their lip they forced themself quiet, unsure if they were going to sob or scream if they spoke. Shaking their head they lowered their gaze, their arms tight across their chest. Stuck in place, in the racing mix of emotions they just stared at the office carpet.

“Come, there’s no reason to dwell here.” Malleus hummed. MC nodded, turning to follow him out.

“Wait— MC!” Crowley huffed, standing, and coming towards them quickly, grabbing their arm, “You know— I had your best intentions in mind! I am so kind after all, and we are such close friends, are we not? I took you in when you needed someone the most, you’ll remember that won’t you?”

MC furrowed their brow looking back at Crowley, “Yeah, I’ll remember that.” They huffed, pulling their arm from his grip. They didn’t have the energy to list every ridiculous, mind numbing, dangerous or inappropriate job they’d be sure to remember. Though by the dawning look of regret, they were certain Crowley understood the subtext.

The Ramshackle dorm was just as they had left it. MC briefly introduced Malleus to the ghosts of the house while they packed their few personal items. It was quick work really. Slinging the bag over their back, they sighed and stepped out of the only place they remembered. Malleus wasn’t far behind.

“This building really is quite charming.” He hummed, admiring the dilapidated dorm.

MC chuckled, “I think you’re one of the only people who’ve said that… but yeah. I’ll miss it.”

He nodded as MC waved one final time to the ghosts in the window. One looked close to crying if he still could. They started down the path.

“I guess I gotta find somewhere to go…” MC hummed, thinking back. They’d been close with some of the previous graduates around their age, but where they were now was a tough question to answer. Furthermore it’d be kind of a lot to ask an old friend to move in with them for a bit.

Malleus pulled them from their thoughts, “I would be more than happy to host you.”

MC looked up at him, the idea playing out in their head for a moment as they weighed the pros and cons.

“You know, you didn’t tell me you were a prince.” They pointed out.

Malleus grinned, “You hadn’t asked me.”

MC shook their head and sighed, taking a moment to think. They had enough money saved up to buy a hotel and could likely find a job in town if they so choose to. They had friends who they knew would help if they reached out. But… looking back up to Malleus, they couldn’t help but feel drawn. Curious maybe. And on top of that… they did like him. They didn’t know much about Briar Valley, but they could learn.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that.” They agreed.

Malleus stepped in front of them and turned to face MC. He offered his hand and for a moment MC stared, a bit confused before gently placing their hand in his.

“It’s a bit of an odd sensation. I’ve been told it helps if you close your eyes.” Malleus hummed. They were going to ask what he meant, but as they blinked, they felt as if a wave had pulled them under. It was quick, cold, weightless and heavy all in the span of a second before it was over. Their knees buckled under them, but before they could fall Malleus caught their arm and held them steady.

Blinking a few times to clear their vision, they stared at the intricate marble flooring. The walls around them were gothic, lit by green fire. They found their footing and looked about at the tall looming architecture.

“It sort of looks like your place.” They chuckled.

He nodded, “I suppose I took some inspiration.”

Echoing footfall carried down the hall, a pair of heels clacking as they drew closer, rounding the corner. The same short man they had seen before slid to a halt, staring at Malleus, his eyes like saucers. His gaze fell to them as well, red eyes blown wide in surprise.

“You’re back…” Lilia finally managed, taking a few slow steps further as if in total disbelief. He closed the gap quickly after, floating high enough to be face to face with Malleus. Lilia wrapped his arms around him, “You’re really back!”

“Yes, it seems so,” he agreed, his blasé tone in contrast with how tightly he was holding the man.

Several others began to fill the room, dotted along the walls, murmuring quietly until a booming voice broke above.

“Prince Malleus!” A man with green hair shouted. He was openly crying and came to join them, followed by a more silent figure with long white hair.

The green-haired man was nearly incoherent as he spoke through sobs, though MC could glean that he was happy to see Malleus home safe again. He vowed up and down the walls that he’d die before Malleus was ever cursed again. They also learned his name as Malleus urged Sebek to collect himself. The man with white hair, though also enamored by the prince’s safe return, eventually stared at them.

“Are you the curse-breaker?” He asked.

MC shifted their weight, “I suppose so.”

The man furrowed his brow in confusion, “How do you mean?”

MC took a deep breath, “I mean I am— I guess.” They answered, trying to string their thoughts together, “I… he said I broke the curse but… I didn’t know what the curse was so I wasn’t trying to break a curse. I only learned his name this morning and that he was a prince a few minutes ago...” MC sighed, running their hands through their hair, “I’m sorry, it's been a lot, I’m not sure what to say.”

“I see.” The man began, then bowed his head. “Then I’ll hold my questions until you’ve had a chance to rest.”

MC nodded, sighing their relief.

Offering his hand MC took it, “My name is Silver Vanrouge, I am a knight of the castle. During your stay here I will be happy to offer any guidance. Humans like us are not as common in the Valley so it can be a bit daunting at times.”

Once more MC nodded, “Yeah… Thank you. I’ll definitely have questions.” They answered tiredly. The conversation next to them began to wane and Lilia turned his gaze to them, lowering himself to their height.

“I knew there was something about you.” He hummed, chuckling to himself, “There has to be if you’re sitting in a dragon's nest.”

Malleus cleared his throat. Unlike all the times they had to guess what his expression meant as a dragon, the pink dusting on his cheeks made his embarrassment clear as day. He looked as though he were about to argue, huffing towards Lilia… and it wasn’t that Malleus wasn’t an imposing man— but they couldn’t help but giggle at the huffing. Somehow it came off a bit more serious as a dragon and now was just… kind of cute.

Malleus looked to them and sighed, a smile easily coming to him, his rebuttal forgotten.

“Come now, you must be exhausted.” He hummed, excusing himself with the promise he’d be back soon to explain it all in time. For now however, he guided them through the tall dark halls of the castle to a room far more elegant than they’d known existed. It was far nicer than the Ramshackle dorm though they couldn’t help it feeling a bit empty without their ghosts.

“Do you think I’ll still be allowed to visit the school?” They asked idly, setting their bag down.

“If it’s what you desire I will see it possible.” Malleus hummed as he opened the door to the wardrobe. Several folded linens sat themselves on the nearby table. “If you require anything, do not hesitate to summon the staff.”

MC nodded, though didn’t feel the need to request anything and sat on the bed. The day began to sink in, both the physical tiredness that came with the journey over the mountain and the mental strain to keep up with all that happened.

“It all doesn’t feel real…” MC sighed and a weight settled next to them.

“Strangely enough, I agree.” Malleus hummed, “My friends are all much older than I left them.”

MC nodded, “Are… you going to go back and talk to them?”

“At some point.”

“Oh.” MC nodded. They felt a bit too out of it to say much else. Instead, they leaned against his shoulder, kicking their shoes off and drawing their legs under them. Malleus wrapped his arm around them and pulled them close. He was warm and easy to lean into, safe. It didn’t take long for the fatigue to win them over as they curled closer idly thinking of what their new life would be like.

[END]

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus x mc #malleyuu #twst silver #twst lilia #twisted wonderland silver #silver vanrouge #lilia vanrouge #twst sebek #fanfic #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfic

37 notes · View notes

hekate1308 · 5 years

Photo

Badges and Deals, A Drowley Christmas Calendar - December 8

Masterpost

April

“I don’t care how you ruined this, I want to know what you’ve been doing to fix it“ Crowley snarls into his phone before almost throwing it across the room. He thinks better of it just in time. This is not a moment to despair. It’s a moment to act.

If Winchester finds the shipment, he’ll put him away, and aside from all other inconveniences, it would mean seeing less of the agent than he has in the past few weeks.

He dashes off.

Crisis dealt with, he’s relaxing in his living room that night, sipping a glass of Craig, when he gets a text.

Almost got you this time :)

There’s only one person it could be from, and he finds it rather annoying that his heart starts picking up a beat as he reads it. It’s never done that before, not when it comes to other people, and it’s a rather concerning development. It’ll have to stop.

Maybe not just now, however.

Dean didn’t expect a reply, so he probably shouldn’t be surprised when he gets one. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Crowley, it’s that the guy always does the unexpected.

I am sure I don’t know what you mean.

Naturally he wouldn’t fall for such a rookie trick, but it’s still nice he texted back.

Then I won’t say it.

It wasn’t Crowley who screwed up today – Dean would have been surprised if it had – but instead one of his minions, who got the times wrong and therefore almost, almost allowed them to lay hands on a shipment of very illegal goods. Not drugs, of course – never drugs; he guesses there must be some history behind that since most mafia bosses don’t care whether they are ruining people’s lives.

Point is, they almost got Crowley today. Even his supervisor told Dean he’d done an excellent job and that in the end, it had just been bad luck.

Trouble is, Dean has been in an exceptionally good mood ever since he realized it wasn’t happening, he even had to hide it from his colleagues.

And so he’s been pretending to himself that this wasn’t because he enjoys their cat-and-mouse game a little too much.

It’s just been so long since he’s had a challenge, and Crowley is providing a worthy one.

Yep, Benny would definitely have to say something about this.

You better not or I shall sue you for slander.

That’s just it – with anyone else, this would be an idle threat, but when it comes to Crowley, not only would he probably do it, but there’s a good chance he would actually win if he tried.

And damn it if it’s not the most exciting thing that has happened to him in a while.

Sammy would roll his eyes and tell him he’s an adrenaline junkie, but Sammy’s not here right now, and besides, he knows better than to ask him for advice on this.

Than to ask anyone, really.

It’s a good thing I didn’t say it, then.

Exactly, and don’t you forget it.

They are definitely flirting now to, which should make him feel worried but doesn’t, which in turn does.

Ugh. Why do the hot ones all have to be taken, not interested, or evil?

The day after their close call, the minion is dismissed from his organization. If he were higher up, Crowley would make sure he retire permanently, but he doesn’t know enough to become dangerous, and it’s always good to have someone tell the world how dangerous and threatening one can be. It keeps people on their toes.

He doesn’t expect any reaction to the news, but at the end of the day, his phone chimes.

That was nice of you.

He knows what he’s talking about, of course, and is debating whether or not to reply when the text alert rings out again.

Dinner?

Crowley is incredibly aware that he should say no, that it may well be a trap, that Winchester has noticed he’s attracted to him and is doing his best to use that to his advantage.

Very aware indeed.

They meet up an hour later.

Crowley is impressed; the small restaurant is exactly the kind of place he would have picked for a secret rendezvous – or just a dinner between business acquaintance, as it is.

The one thing he wasn’t prepared fro was the sight of Dean Winchester in jeans and a t-shirt. It seems most unfair that he should look quite as dashing as he does in a suit.

He greets him with a nod and a grin. “Wasn’t sure you were coming.”

“Good. I like to be unpredictable.”

Winchester chuckles.

Crowley had some half-formed expectation that there’s something he needs, but instead they just... make small talk as they wait for their food. And it’s not even boring.

Dear God.

He’s about to ask when suddenly Winchester’s eyes slide off him and into the shadows. “I don’t believe this.”

#spn #my writings #drowley #dean winchester #crowley #christmas calendar

2 notes · View notes

bishopsorphan · 6 years

Text

Trust (Ducifer AU-ish from season 10 on)

Oh, they were stupid. Stupidly, epically, stupid. Because of course they couldn’t see the warding. They couldn’t sense the warding. They weren’t angels.

Well, Sam wasn’t. Dean wasn’t, either, most of the time. Though it had become more of a nightly thing as of late.

Besides the point.

Warding. Old building. Locked doors. Running out of oxygen. Not a good situation.

Sam was trying to get through to Cas, but it was like nothing was getting out. So. Good warding. Angels, probably, trying to cut the brothers off from the only thing - weakened as it was - powerful enough to give them an edge. Angels working with demons, if the smell of sulfur was anything to go by.

Fuck.

“I don’t think Cas is picking up what you’re laying down.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Sam snapped.

Well, yeah, Dean did. He had one perfect, luminous, annoyingly adorable idea tucked away in the back of his mind, but he knew his brother would freak out. Majorly. Because Dean’s idea was not supposed to be on the table. Like, at all. In a million years. Which was why Sam could never find out. He could never find out about Dean’s first few days as a Knight, the places in Hell Crowley had taken him, the things he’d seen. The things he’d done after.

The Cage. He’d seen the Cage. Crowley had wanted him to kill the Devil, but that close to the Box it was less icy rage and more all-encompassing loneliness. Dean had called it a suicide mission and left.

Then he’d gone back.

Alone.

No one had been watching the Seals after the Apocalypse fizzled out like a wet firework. No one had noticed when they’d started breaking.

Well, someone had noticed.

And that someone had waltzed into his room in a trenchcoat a year later, told him he had a nice ass, and disappeared in a flutter of wings and a flash of red.

Dean took a breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He closed his eyes. Luce?

If silence could sound puzzled, well...

He tried again. Come on, Sunshine. Pick up the phone.

The voice that answered back in his head sounded fuzzy, weak. Dean?

Need some help. Running out of air. It wasn’t just the voice in his head that was fuzzy. Shit.

Excuse the shock. Not really one to be getting prayers anymore. A pause. A whistle echoed high in his mind. Damn. Uh. That is some warding.

Can you break it?

Not without a couple hours and some serious mojo. Guessing you don’t have that long? Another pause. Sam was starting to wheeze. There’s a break in it by a vent. Still guarded, just... weak.

Dean opened his eyes and scanned the room. Found it. You gonna action movie your way in here?

Not a big enough weak point. I doubt this body could make it through without ripping apart at the seams.

Dean chewed on his lower lip. Well, Sammy was probably going to find out eventually.

“You ok?” Sam was sitting back against the opposite wall, chest rising and falling with considerable effort.

“I was praying.”

“Cas can’t hear us.”

“Not to Cas.”

He could see his brother mentally scanning through all of the living angels they knew. It was a short list. “Chuck doesn’t care.”

“Got that right.”

Sam frowned. “Dean?”

“I’m gonna do something and you’re not gonna like it. But I can get us out of here.”

The younger man started fidgeting. “How much am I not gonna like it?”

Dean sighed. “Just close your eyes, Sammy. And trust me.”

Sam’s eyes slipped shut slowly and Dean tilted his head back. Get in here, asshole.

Formalities, Cowboy.

“Yes!”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said it. Not by a long shot. But he did appreciate the sentiment behind the constant request for consent. He hadn’t even asked for it. It had never even crossed Dean’s mind that one ‘yes’ might open the door to spontaneous intrusions.

But Lucifer wasn’t like that.

Hell, he’d even asked Sam three times before jumping in.

That was Lucifer. His Lucifer. The real one, untainted by lore and slander. Oh, he wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but neither was Dean. Maybe it had been the demon in him, maybe just the lack of inhibitions, but he’d bonded with the Devil. With the sad guy in the Cage. The one who had been enraged to find out about Sam’s hallucinations (caused by Cas, he’d said, or whatever had been inside Cas, because there was no fire, no torture, only the endless expanse of cold dark nothing and the Cage was small but impossibly large and he’d been alone after Stull, so they all had). The one saddened by the angels’ fall. The one who told Dean about the Mark’s corruption, about the creation of the universe, about anything he asked about.

Dean’s Lucifer always asked consent. He’d done it after Amara had ripped him out of Cas, before he’d laid low in Dean, the day this whole thing between them had really kicked off. He’d helped hold all those souls, reopening old wounds in his Grace. He’d been pulled out, pulled out by Chuck, and Dean would have screamed at the loss if God hadn’t smiled and tipped him a wink.

A very whole, very happy, very blond Lucifer had been waiting for him in the bunker, and the rest was sappy history. Sappy history with something of a possession kink, because with Luce Dean felt safe. Wrapped up in the warmest, softest hug. Surrounded by love and light and the promise of something that no one else wanted, that no one else understood. Something he didn’t have to protect. Something that could protect him for a change.

Blue light started sifting through the vent. The angel normally travelled faster, slowed down by the warding, fighting his way to them. Fighting his way to Dean.

And then the light was there, in the room, in him, and he opened himself up fully for it.

It was warmth and sunlight and happiness and the barest aftertaste of something stale and bitter. Something that had once been the definition of wholeness but was now missing some parts.

It settled. Wrapped around his brain and heart and soul with a contented purr that was all Lucifer, all home, only reserved for him.

Dean felt his eyes open. Saw the room. Saw Sam.

He took a deep breath on instinct, even though he knew Lucifer didn’t need it. It just felt good to expand his lungs. He heard Sam do the same and smiled. It reached his lips.

“Rise and shine, Sammy.”

Sam cracked his eyes open. “I can breathe.”

Luce grinned. “You’re welcome. Gonna take some time to recharge enough to bust us out of here, though.”

“How’d you get in?”

Dean could... not hear, but more... feel Sam’s thoughts from across the room. Suspicion, concern. He knew he wasn’t talking to Dean. Didn’t know who he was talking to. Just knew that he could breathe again, so he was treading lightly.

Lucifer gestured up at the vent. The cover had been warped by his entrance. “Weak point in the warding. Not weak enough that I could break a vessel in, though.” He sighed. “You, uh, you ok with this?”

It took a moment for Sam to answer. He slid himself back up the wall and wandered over. Slowly. Dean appreciated the preservation instinct. “I heard him say yes.” He stopped a few feet in front of them, looking down. “Whoever you are, you must be pretty special to get him to consent so fast. I mean, he spent a year refusing Michael, and he’s...” The younger man trailed off. “Michael had a reputation. For being... pretty much the exact opposite of what he actually is.”

The Devil smiled, and Dean could feel everything. A wash of memories, good and bad. Hurt, betrayal, amusement at the fact that at least he wasn’t alone in disliking Michael. “Yeah. I know, Sam. I was there.”

A pause. Sam took a tentative step back. “Dean?”

Between the blink of his eyes, he was back. Still wrapped in the warmth of the angel, still surrounded by the purest sense of safety and love he’d ever felt. “Yeah, Sam, it’s me.”

Something about his demeanor must have changed for Sam to believe him. “What did you invite in here with us, Dean?”

Dean licked his lips. “An angel? You said it yourself, he’s a special one.”

“Cas. Zachariah. Anna. Gabriel. Raphael. Michael. Lucifer.”

“What?”

“Those were the angels, Dean. The ones that were there. Cas can’t hear us. Zachariah, Anna, Gabriel, and Raphael are dead. Lucifer and Michael are in the Cage.” Sam took another step back, the little wheels in his head turning and turning and turning. Revving. Grinding to a halt. “Right? They’re in the Cage?”

“We’ll explain later.” Lucifer was back in charge, sliding seamlessly into the driver’s seat as Dean panicked. He knew Sam wouldn’t get it, that he could never get it. Because he hadn’t had all that time sitting outside the Cage, hadn’t asked questions. He didn’t have the same gaping hole inside of him that needed to be filled. He’d had a life and a girl and an education. He’d gotten what he wanted. He didn’t need the Devil to come along and make it all better, make it all whole, make it so he didn’t feel alone and abandoned and worthless.

Suddenly Dean wasn’t sure what were his own thoughts and what were Lucifer’s. No wonder they fit so well.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You said you’re not strong enough to bust us out now.”

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah, the warding took a lot out of me. Keeping the oxygen flowing isn’t exactly a cake walk with all this mumbo-jumbo on the place, either.”

Yeah, Dean would see it now, see it with what little overlap he had with Luce. Sigils lining every space on every wall, except over the vent. The grate had prevented whoever had trapped them from completing a seal.

“I’m not staying here with you unless I know who you are.”

“You’re definitely not gonna want to stay here with me after you find out, either.”

“Lucifer.” To his credit, Sam stood his ground.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Sammy. Dean wouldn’t let me even if I wanted to.”

“I seem to remember you forcing me to beat him senseless in a cemetery.”

The angel cringed. It was an expression that traveled right down to the center of his Grace, so all-encompassing that Dean could feel it in his soul. “I made mistakes. Thought you guys were all about second chances. Dean-o here is, anyway.”

“Get out of him.”

“I’m not gonna let you die.”

Sam pulled a bitchface. “I’ll exorcise you myself if I have to.”

Lucifer let himself flop down onto the floor from where they’d been sitting. “Does this look like a new thing to you, Sam? Dean called me. Prayed to me - which was amazing and terrifying all at the same time - for help.”

“You can’t even get us out of here.”

Something niggled at the back of Dean’s mind. A bit of knowledge that wasn’t his own, something Luce was trying to keep away. He grabbed for it, as well as a floating consciousness of soul can.

“No, Dean.” Lucifer. Speaking out loud. Eyes narrowed. Thoughts turned inward.

“Fight it,” Sam pleaded. “Please, Dean, I don’t know who you thought you were letting in, but you can fight it. I did. And you are so much stronger than me.”

The angel rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Oh, come on. Stop trying to butter him up.” You are so much stronger, Dean. “I wasn’t even talking about that. He’s trying to pick my brain to get us out of here.”

The thought Dean had been tugging at had slipped through his fingers at Lucifer’s little aside in their shared mind. The angel loved little reassurances like that, statements of purpose and worth. Loved to receive them and give them. It never failed to make the hunter’s heart swell. It never failed to make him feel better.

“You wanna share with the class?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. He was practically vibrating with nerves, with fear, with anger.

This wasn’t how I wanted to tell him.

I know.

He hates us.

Me, yes. You, no. Never. We’ll explain once we get out. Hopefully the meatsuit Dad made me holds for a couple more days.

Won’t have to if you fill us both in.

The Devil sighed. “I can get a quick power boost and miracle up a jailbreak if you let me handle your sweet, succulent double A batteries.”

Dean mentally facepalmed. No more youtube game animations for you. Didn’t think he’d ever have to be that freakishly specific.

“That came out wrong. Take two. Angels can power up on the quick by touching human souls. Dean would be the obvious choice,” since there’s really not much of you I haven’t touched, “but I can’t very well fist myself.” Fuck. “That came out wrong. Again.”

Or did it?

“So you need to get your dirty hands on my soul. Again.” Sam did not sound happy.

Lucifer shrugged. “I’m perfectly content to stay here.”

“Not in my brother.”

The angel sat back up in a quick, fluid motion that Dean was positive he’d never be able to execute on his own. “Look, Sam, this is a long story. We wanted to tell you when we had time. But you were hunting demons backed by angels, yeah? We need to stop them. We can sit here and wait for me to recharge, or you can trust me and we can go catch those sons of bitches now while they’re still gloating and take them by surprise. Then we go back to the bunker and Dean and I will explain everything to you from the beginning. Capital B, too, if that’s what you want. I’m feeling nostalgic.”

“Looks like you’ve already made up your mind.”

Lucifer frowned and followed Sam’s gaze down to his own arms. Dean’s arms. “That’s not me,” he said, smiling in bemusement as Dean rolled up his sleeve.

“Yeah, right.”

Dean flipped his brother off.

That made Sam pause. Made him take a step closer. “How is he doing that? How is he fighting you?”

“He’s not?”

“You can’t just let him take control like that.”

“People change, Sam. Angels, too, apparently, because I’d much rather spend time with your brother now than... just about anything else. And I don’t expect you to believe me. You never have.”

“But Dean did?”

Lucifer smiled. Dean smiled, too. “Yeah. He did.”

Sam nodded and folded himself onto the floor, scooting across the concrete to sit closer to the angel. “Dean trusts you.”

“I do.”

The younger hunter blinked at that, taken aback at the sudden pronoun change.

“He’s not holding me, Sammy. And this is not our first rodeo. I swear, you let him do this, we finish this hunt, and I’ll tell you everything. Or leave. Whatever you want me to do.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I just... Lucifer?”

Dean shrugged. “Like he said. Long story.”

“Yeah. I don’t trust him.”

“I know.”

But,” Sam licked his lips. “I trust you. So. Whatever we need to do to get out of here.”

Lucifer took a deep breath, sliding back into the forefront of the interaction. “You’re gonna want to bite down on something.”

~~End~~

#Ducifer #fic!#supernatural #this is my ship and I shall sail it forever #fic #fanfic

54 notes · View notes