Revelation

[atricksterssweets-deactivated20]

Friends or Foe (Zander & Lucifer)

[atricksterssweets-deactivated20]

“I’m not lying. I have information that is not for me to give you, therefore I am not the right one to be asking,” he said quietly and crossed his arms. He had already been forced to do acts against the Winchesters that he didn’t want to do so to give the devil more information wasn’t something he wished to do.

He tilted his head at the question about what he would do to take over the world, but didn’t answer. It was like when he and Ziva had gone after the people she had known in the past. They hadn’t blown up their house and been done with it. That was too quick and no fun. It was going in and starting at the core that made the joy last. One would expect Tricksters to be all about blowing things up, big and spectacular and yes, sometimes that was the case, but not if he was to take over the world. That was not something on his to do list so why even bother voicing his thoughts?

“Nothing useful,” he answered regarding the Winchesters. Except from the leviathans wanting them dead and Sam being locked up with Dick and Dierks and stuff. Details. “Why don’t you ask the leviathans? I’m sure they will be of much more use for you,” he offered.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Lucifer was known for having a treachorously quick temper, it was something he often attempted to play off but at the core of the angel he knew it to be true. He saw himself above all creatures but his brothers, his closest brothers, any interaction with anyone but them was deemed a waste of his time. It was only expected that his patience would wear thin when interacting with them in any sort of way. Even now he was practically groveling at the world's feet, begging for help to defeat the family who had betrayed him and yet he still saw himself as far above every inhabitant on the planet.

"I'm not asking the leviathans, am I? I'm asking you." he snapped as he took a few quick steps towards the other, the sounds of his wings ruffling invaded the night air as his emotions began to get the most of him. He stood only a few feet away from the other, it was in no way meant to be threatening or menacing, it had been a slip up, a childish sign of weakness that he had allowed to slip throught the cracks. He cleared his throat as he began to circle the man once more, "Listen, Trickster. Sam Winchester is the most important gamepiece on the board right now. It is imperative that I know his location at once. And I know that you know at least a little something about that." he smirked slightly as he stopped abrupbtly behing the other, breathing the night air deeply into his lungs as he let his words billow throughout and surround them.

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

Losing my religion [Closed to Lucifer]

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

Zachariah sits perfectly still as Lucifer leaned forward, and he neither felt threatened or in danger, although most of his other brothers, younger or older, would feel. Most of the younger ones have been brought up to think of Lucifer as the Boogieman, this traitorous fiend that existed to scorn God and all of them and everything else. That there had barely been a trace of good in him. He’d never believed that; he’d known Lucifer, at least a little, and he had been as much a brother as any of the other of them had been. The older ones (excluding the archangels; that was another can of worms altogether) saw him as flawed of wrathful or childish and Zachariah isn’t sure where he stood on that verdict. Maybe he had been onto something. He allowed this contact, both on the physical plane and the other ones - admittedly, he was a bit curious, and more than a little bold. He’d always had more guts than most of them. It was why he’d been so successful in every mission given to him.

“Is that what you call this?” He replied tactfully, not one to be so easy to beat out. But despite his words, he didn’t move, just allowed Lucifer’s fingers to trace his jaw and then his neck, his human vessel responding to the touch. In some respects it was just a flaw of the human form, to be so primal, but it was also a matter of deprivation; there was far less love to go around in heaven these days. And who would dote on Zachariah? He was very much about business, at least when it concerned being at the top. It was also perhaps funny to consider that even though he was one of the oldest of the angels, he’d also spent considerable more time on earth than most of them. It was a brutal Catch-22, in a way. Because of his experience and proof of his superior skills, he was sent to earth, considered to be among of the greatest importance because angels were supposed to be the guardians of humans. He had thus became greatly accustomed to them, and in turn that of inhabiting a vessel. And feeling. And living. It was sentiment that chased the chill that ran down his neck. “Perhaps I do. But you do not have authority over either of those things.” There’s a reason why he was the best; well, he’d like to think as much. The taunting laugh of his brothers and sisters came back to him. Yet here was Lucifer, consoling him and wishing to give him everything. But he’s been warned already, of such a thing. Well, never anything quite like this… His heart raced more than it had in any recent time, at least not for a purpose such as this. Lust, after all, was a sin, so Zachariah preferred to think of it as indulging, as if he might have been eating a nice cake. Unlike all of this ridiculous business about celibacy down here, that was not the case with angels. Most simply didn’t understand or saw the appeal of such an act, or any other number of reasons. He takes his time to carefully register every word, and he inhaled deeply, his chest jutting out. His eyes flickered down to the hand, the squeeze conveying more than enough. Once again, this was because of his experience; most angels wouldn’t pick it up. But he does. As he formulated a reply in his head his train of thought was cut down by a kiss, of all things. His hands raising up defensively and he felt like pushing him away, but he didn’t. He’s not sure to say if it was fair to say he’d let himself enjoy it, but at least he let himself savour the moment, but he didn’t kiss back. Zachariah tried to think of the last time someone had kissed him, or the first time, and yet none of those feel like they matched up to this. Still, he tried not to overthink it. That was the problem of humans: jumping to conclusions and letting their imagination get the best of them. He could think a million things about that kiss, but it didn’t make them true. But it was still a damn good kiss, feeling or no feeling, his heart beating loudly in his chest. Finally, he placed a hand on Lucifer and gently pushed him away, although they were still close. “You know what I’ve gone through and you would ask me to fight for you?” There’s admittedly no cold edge, despite what the words might sound like; instead there’s an odd note to it. Still, it made it seem as if Lucifer had issued some grave insult against him. The body could be toyed with, but ah; mind over the matter. Maybe those tricks worked with humans and other beings, but the fact of the matter was Lucifer’s army had no angels in it was telling enough. “Your compensations,” His eyes returned to that hand before looking back at Lucifer, “are generous. But,” He continued, firm as ever, as if he was in some sort of business meeting. “The only terms I might consider are fighting with you.” In some farfetched part of his mind he’d like to think that he had been working with Michael than strictly as a subordinate, although the archangel did give him orders, and that truly the only person above them all was God. He wouldn’t bend at the knee to another angel, not when they were supposed to be family. “And you’ll have to be a bit more concrete with your offer. Heaven and earth don’t quite sway me.” There are the hints of a smirk curling on his lips.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

A kiss was a sign of affection that Lucifer had been very fond of in his youth; whether he was peppering them along his Father's feet or planting them on one of his brothers as a gift of appreciation for something. It was an act that he had indulged in often, how he chose to express his love. It was also the main thing that the humans had stolen from him. The morning they were revealed to the angels he had been awoken by a soft embrace on his cheek as Michael informed him there was to be a gift from their Father to them. Lucifer had ran to his Father and pulled him into a tight hug, in return he had received a warm hand pulling him close as a kiss was planted on his forehead. 

Lucifer had felt a joy unlike anything he'd ever felt before, sure that he was about to be introduced to a new angel, another baby brother for him to dote on and lavish with love and wisdom. What he was presented with were small pounds of flesh, no wings, no light; just flesh and a small tuft of hair atop their heads. His brothers and sisters flocked to the new creature, the new baby, grace reaching out to stroke along the skin and run through the strands of hair. All the angels but Lucifer. God had moved towards his most favored angel, not a single word of comfort or explanation, he'd leaned to plant another embrace, a promise, to ease some of the pain he sensed in his son, but the angel had stepped away, he'd crossed his arms and kept his eyes purposefully off his Father. This was the last moment anyone offered a true kiss, a testament of their love, to the fallen angel.

He'd had encounters with a few demons, they called him their father and kneeled at his feet but so often when they attempted to lay kisses to his flesh they were met with nothing but the burning hot ground of Hell. The twisted rotten corpses knew nothing of love, they knew only of obedience and loyalty to their creator. They were as blind as his brothers and as loathsome as the humans. Once on earth he quickly learned what effect the soft press of his lips to the human vessel could be. A simple brush of his hands could cause the inferior creatures to follow him to their death. But to indulge in such a power felt juvenile and beaneath him. A kiss was not something he just handed out, it was something sacred to him, though he wouldn't admit it.

Lucifer mulled over the angel's words, his body unmoving from it's position as he let the cogs in his brain slowly slide together to form coherent thoughts to sway his brother, each wheel turning only to further allow another to fall into it's place. He had spent so long away, he feared he knew him not as well as he had before, not that the two had ever been truly close. Lucifer had been a bit of an elitist even when he was still in Heaven, dealing with other angels. He had spent most of his time only socializing with the other archangels, his brother's who had been created long before the others; who were closest to their Father. Not even a high ranking Seraph was deemed worthy of his time. All that had changed since he'd fallen from heaven, every angel was useful in the upcoming war, he needed every wing on his side that he could get, every available soldier.

"If Heaven nor Earth have anything to satisfy you then what will, brother. Power? We can rule together. We can wipe out this scum and we will rule Heaven together." He practically crawled onto the park bench as the words dripped from his lips like a poison, a venom flowing from his mouth in an attempt to soak into the other angel. "Fight with me and we will make every single one of these vermin curse our Father for creating them." His hands curled into the front of Zachariah's suit pulling them face to face once more, his eyes boring into the others as he struggled to hold the emotion threatening to rip him apart at bay, his knuckles turning white with exertion. 

"We will make the Winchesters rue the day they crossed your path. No one messes with my brother, my glorious brother, and walks away without even a slap on the wrist." he began peppering soft kisses along Zachariah's jaw, each one a promise of a new world, a new life. "Fight for me, brother, and I will fight for you." he all but growled into the angel's ear, every muscle in his body still tensed, every single feather on his wings standing at attention as they threatened to burst forth from his vessel. He could feel his heart catch aflame with a passion he had long forgotten since his departure from their home, a feeling he never thought he'd feel again, and yet the fallen angel was now feeling a love and admiration raging inside him. He needed his brother to join his side, to stand next to him and offer support him. For once in centuries, since God had disposed of him then stepped from the picture, Lucifer felt hope.

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

Losing my religion [Closed to Lucifer]

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

Zachariah felt like he had just invited a salesman into his house, the speed of which Lucifer takes the seat and gets to talking just makes him feel that he’s in for some hard sell. He’s watching the other by glancing sideways at him, not looking to turn him fully as the man began. He knew the arguments, he’d heard them before; not from Lucifer’s lips, mind you, but every angel had been prepped. Better to heard from the lips of another one of their family and be prepared then to be told them by the prince of darkness himself. The humans had ruined everything and everything would be broken, the world foremost, for as long as they were around. Was that not why they were trying to pave everything over now? But then again, there was still the clause that they were supposed to love them.

I do this because I love you. Was that the answer to that when it came down to it? He felt like that was the stock answer for anything these days. Zachariah watched Lucifer with a narrow look, and it inspired some anger within him. Was Lucifer to tempt him or poke at his pride? He would not be mocked, not by him, of all people. He did try to think of the last time that he’d heard God and feels like a haze of a memory, not hearing utterings from other lips, but he did. “That is my personal business.” He answered, as if he felt that he needed to defend his status. His hand curled into a fist, the one out of Lucifer’s sight, at the mention of what he’d done as soon as he’d been resurrected. He was ever the good son and worker, checking in with dad and the boss. But there had been no response. Zachariah has the sincerest intention to tell Lucifer to shut up. Then, he lets everything go at the sound that Michael (unsurprising in that regard) heard something, but that even Lucifer was graced with even a garbled sound was difficult to hear. His expression blank and inside he feels numb. That’s the worst feeling of all, this almost uselessness. When Lucifer sat beside him this time he turned to look at him, and quickly things were propelled far father than he imagined. The fallen angel was touching him intimately, although such displays weren’t as uncommon as they were among humans. At such close proximity he could feel traces of Lucifer’s essence emitting off of him, although that wasn’t surprising considering they were in contact with each other. The numbness has dissipated and in place of it is cold, and he truly does feel frozen in place. He shouldn’t be letting Lucifer do any of this to him. He should leave, or make the fallen angel do so. He doesn’t move, neither leaning forward or backwards, or making any move to touch him. “And how would you treat an angel of my calibre?” His voice is unwavering and neutral, a true testament to his willpower. “Consider carefully what you do.” He felt compelled to say it, for his own sake.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

It was uncommon for angels to ever come in contact with one another, it had been that way since the departure of the morning star. Lucifer had been very open with his brothers, closer to Michael and Gabriel, but he was never one to turn a deaf ear to any of them. He was filled with his Father's love and was always more than willing to express such a thing. And then the humans had arrived and God had demanded all the angels direct their love and admiration to them. When Lucifer had rebelled and was subsequently cast out from Heaven acts of love were all but banned from the blessed home. Angels were required to shine their love on humans and humans alone. Even while caged in Hell, Lucifer knew that his persecution was something that had changed Heaven entirely. He had been the brightest star, no doubt there was a gap in Heaven, but there had to be rules changed; enforced. The way angels handled love was different. 

As was the way the fallen angel expressed himself. Humans were physical creatures, as were demons, and it was slowly something Lucifer was finding himself growing attached to. He had figured out that with a slight brush of his fingertips he could invoke feelings of pleasure, his flesh was cold and yet the bodies he chose to come in contact with always burned hot from his touch. He was able to soothe and relax anyone he touched, will away any stress or pain. He was also able to twist their anger or hatred and instead turn it into something different, although when it came to such carnal emotions he preferred not lay a finger on it. Hate always left a sticky black on his hands, it wasn't something he was fond of. Feelings of happiness, pleasure, and love were what he focused his attention on mainly. Feelings he wanted his emotionless brothers to feel.

 Lucifer smirked slightly at the other angel's demeanor, it had never crossed his mind that the other angels would know his pitch and yet the man before him acted as if the words were nothing new to him. Michael, he muttered inside his head, the small smile remained unwavering though as he leaned forward even more to sniff lightly along Zachariah's jawline, the man smelled of Heaven. A scent that hadn't filled Lucifer's lungs in so long. It was a bright beacon of nostalgia, of a life he had given up in order to follow his own path. Without much thought he ran his fingertips gently along the jaw he had been so near only moments before. Reaching out to Zachariah, both physically as well as on other levels, was more his way of reaching out to the home he missed so dearly. He'd never admit it but his heart longed to cross the Pearly Gates once more; to enter the world he had grown up in and embrace the family he still loved.

"An angel of your caliber deserves to be treated with respect." his voice was a low whisper as he kept the distance between them minimal, his fingertips now drifting slowly from the angel's jaw to run along his neck. With another soft easy smile he traced each of the veins in the other's neck, the blood speeding up and rushing as if following his fingers, chasing after the touch, just the way Lucifer wanted it; he had long ago learned the ways of manipulating the human body, even when it was housing a celestial spirit. "He deserves all that Heaven, as well as earth, can offer him." He wasn't sure how far Zachariah was going to allow him to push, but the fallen angel was determined to cross every line that could ever have been drawn out for him. He was going to smash through boundaries and tear down walls, even if the other angel wasn't inclined to play along, this was something Lucifer had set his mind to and was not going to back away from.

His hand dropped down to press against Zachariah's chest, with barely any effort he willed blood to flood through the organ, the muscle speeding up beneath his contact. "If you stop fighting me and instead fight for me. I can give you everything a glorious being like you deserves." His eyebrows raised slightly as his hand finally found it's way to rest on the seraph's knee, his grip tightened soft enough to be dismissed as nothing and yet his fingertips curled enough for it to insinuate everything he would never say out loud. With the final sentence still unfurling in the air Lucifer leaned forward to close the gap and pressed a soft, barely there kiss to the corner of the other's mouth. His skin was dry, something he was never able to change, and yet he knew what something as innocent as a kiss could inspire in those he bestowed it upon. 

[atricksterssweets-deactivated20]

Friends or Foe (Zander & Lucifer)

[atricksterssweets-deactivated20]

Zander actually made a little sign of agreement regarding Lucifer’s comment about everyone knowing everything these days,

“Well yes. True that,” he finally said quietly.

He stood still while the devil kept circling him. Eyes following him the times he would pass in front of him and then wait in slight worry that he would turn up the next time and instead try to kill him when he was behind. It was really unnerving, but he wasn’t going to give into the fear so easily.

“I hide nothing,” he frowned for a nano second. He might know something the devil didn’t, but he didn’t know what he wanted so he wasn’t going to just give out information like that. Not to someone he had been grateful that had ended up back in Hell.

“I’m not the right one to ask for information,” he said quietly, keeping eyecontact with the devil.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Lucifer felt a chuckle rise in him, threatening to break through the facade he was being so careful to keep. If only the angel still had his grace, then he could dip into the trickster's thoughts. If Heaven had indeed torn it from him then he loathed them for it, but then why wouldn't they have, it was the only thing he missed about being an angel of the Lord. He held the amusement at bay as he released a deep breath, shaking his head as if he were disappointed. He took a few slow steps towards the other man as his voice cut through the night air, "These humans call me the father of lies and yet it seems I'm the only on this planet that doesn't commit such an act." 

His tongue skimmed across his dry lips as he contemplated how he would infiltrate the trickster's thoughts, he could feel that this information was important but he could also feel that the man would not let it go so easy, "If you were going to take over the world, would you blow up the White House 'Independence Day' style, or sneak in through the back door?" A wide grin spread across his lips as if he had just made a great joke, which to him he had, though he was sure it was something that would go over the other's head. It was a quote one of his children often said to him, during times when he was losing his focus, spending days dreaming far too big. "You know so much, Trickster. You are the right one to be asking." He tilted his head to the side as soon as the words had left his lips, "Tell me what you know of the Winchesters."

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

Losing my religion [Closed to Lucifer]

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

The night was calm; the moon shone brightly overhead and there were no clouds. A perfect night to think about the world and his place in it. What was it now? Zachariah had been resurrected onto earth with no task in hand. Was this divine punishment, considering history as the hardest worker in heaven? As if he already hadn’t felt punished enough already after everything that had happened. He’d lost everything because of a human, and he was expected to love them? Was this some sort of divine test? He’d felt as if his lifetime of service should have been enough.

The disturbance that ruins his train of thought makes him jerk, because the presence is unmistakable. There’s no other being that quite feels like Lucifer, whatever that exactly is; it’s hard to put into words. He distantly remembers Lucifer as an angel, among the few that does, because he was very old. His seniority was not just because of his work ethic but also for his wisdom. He stared up at his brother as he was greeter, at the vessel that looked like different composite parts thrown together. But it’s smiling and his kind words to accompany it; he can feel that resonating inside of him. He wondered if it was fitting or not or whether it was karma that the first angel that he should meet is Lucifer. Not any of his other brothers, or even Michael, but rather the Morning Star, the one who fell. Thrown out of heaven. Most angels upon meeting Lucifer would have feelings of anger or disgust turn in their stomach, or wish to gut him with an angel blade, but Zachariah feels none of that now. If anyone were to ask him why he didn’t, he would say he had been off duty at the time. Truly, he was. “Thank you.” There’s sincerity in his tone, because the ache in his heart refused to be cold to such kindness, no matter who it would come from. He got so little of that these days. He’s not entirely sure what to say, and further than that, which words he would actually mean. Lucifer is still public enemy number one for the angels, the one who caused so much suffering and pain not just for them, but for God, and for earth. “You can sit, if you’d like.” He offered, watching the fallen angel carefully. Zachariah really shouldn’t have been talking to him, on principle. But he didn’t feel like going anywhere right now. “So… I see this world is still a mess.”

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

At this point there were certain angels Lucifer knew not to waste a breath on; Raphael being the main one, although that could have been said even before the angels betrayed the brightest of them all. But he could also feel, deep in his gut, which ones were closer to joining in his side of the argument. Those who had allowed the veil to be lifted from their eyes just enough for them to see the world the way it truly was,  as Zachariah had simply put it, a mess. 

Lucifer didn't pause for even a moment before he moved forward to take the seat that had been offered to him.  He couldn't quite put a word on the sensation bubbling inside him, something along the lines of eagerness and excitement to discuss this world with a soul who would be more understanding than some of the other mindless soldiers he knew as brothers, "This world will always be a mess as long as those abominations plague the ground. You see it. Don't you, brother?" he let the small beginnings of a smile tug at his lips, as his eyes moved over to glance at the angel beside him. It was a rheutorical question so he gave no spare second for his brother to respond, instead he nodded his head and followed up quickly, overtaking the conversation until it was mainly onesided.

"No need to say it out loud. I know a dutiful little soldier like you will never admit such a thing. Not when the chance of our Father hearing such proof of possessing a mind of your own hangs over our heads. But tell me, brother. When was the last you heard from him?"

The words spilled quickly from his lips, they had spent so long locked away that they were practically begging to be let loose, each one sprinting from his mouth in a mad dash for the other angel. They were meant not only for him, he knew all his brothers could hear them should they tune their celestial antenna just a little. Michael was one who always seemed to hear the worst things Lucifer had to say, but he wanted them to hear these words, they were meant for every single angel who still stood at their Father's side, too obedient to think for themselves. "You prayed when you awoke, did you not? Did the old man answer you? Or was he as silent as he's always been. " he lept to his feet as his wings shuffled slightly inside the vessel, just enough for the slight sound of feathers ruffling to fill the air.

"I hear from Michael that they exchange words. Even I, on occasion have caught a few syllables here and there. Never anything more than fuzzy sounds drowned in static, like a message carried on a signal much too weak to bear the weight such a burden. " he frowned as he mulled over his words, not caring for the phrasing, "Or of a message someone is making no effort to make."

"I still hear from him, even if it is slight, and yet you, the hardest working angel they had upstairs, he can't spend a few seconds answering your questions, he who followed each and every order so adamantly, he has no time for you? What kind of father is that?"

Lucifer returned to sit next to the angel once more, he was growing bolder with each letter that floated through the air, he was known for his way with words and he could only hope that he was starting to break through the barriers every angel set up in their minds, he was hoping he could make Zachariah see the truth. He draped an arm across his brother's shoulders, leaning in close to him until his nose brushed lightly across the other's cheek, "That's no way to treat an angel of your caliber."

[throwoutdoubts]

Visit Original Link

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Everybody wants a reason for everything. It’s so much easier with someone or something to blame.

-

Sometimes things happen and you can’t do anything. Plus, I’m the only one who deals with it anyway. So if everyone could do me a favor and just put their fingers down

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And I don’t need opinions from those never a part of it. Don’t need them pointing out my problems, they’re mine. Don’t need reminders, I know better than anyone.

-

I know I should’ve moved on ages ago, been happy already, but it’s never been that easy for me. Or maybe it was me that made it so hard.

[howlingeyes-blog]

A Seasonal Condition || Lucifer & Adeline

[howlingeyes-blog]

Adeline hadn’t been asleep and any being that stepped close enough could tell. The pace of her breathing, the way her eyelids would move from REM, she was just on the brink of unconsciousness. Probably the closest thing she would get to sleep around here anyway. She really couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten a proper amount of sleep. Something about rain and stormy nights held her to an uncommon alertness. It nearly had her fired at the library anyway, drooling all over her keyboard was not exactly promoted behavior.

Her nose wrinkled slightly, she smelled awful. Quite literally, she was soaked in her own urine, sweat, and blood. It was a terrible combination that nearly had her own bile rising up. Young werewolves had honestly no sense of sanitation. That and they were probably a bit afraid to touch her. Like touching her would set them aflame with silver running through their veins. Or the chains would break the moment they came near and they would be blamed for her escape. Then again, if she escaped, they would be dead. So there wasn’t much worry for it. She had to remind herself that they were not bright and relying on mainly carnal instinct. Stupid pups.

Then a peculiar scent caught her fancy and her nostrils flared, drinking it in—trying to identify it. It was that of an angel, but different. Something stronger than the angel she found in Castiel. Perhaps an Archangel or a Seraph, but why would those be walking at all. But this wasn’t exactly a… heavenly scent. There was something raw and burning there. The scent of insense was the same, but it was a bit stronger with a different flavor. It was also burning hotter and… in a different wood… or charcoal.

Something wet trailed across her cheek and she opened her eyes lazily to see the man standing before her. She knew better. She nodded her head to him slightly with a small smile, as if she was checking out a book to him instead of having him come up to her while she was tied up.

“Hello,” She said, her voice not quaking in fear, just taking on it’s usual soft tone. It sounded like it had been dragged over rocks though because of the lack of water she had. “How may I help you?”

Even being bound and bare, she saw only to be polite to those who came in to speak with her or torture her. If anything, manners were sacred. They kept her connected to a proper sanity. Kept her from becoming one of the mongrels that tied her here. Her blue-gray eyes were completely blank as she gave him a half-lidded stare. “What do I owe the honor of having the company of the Morning Star?”

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

A small smile played across the angel's lips at the wolf's simple words, he allowed them to melt slowly over his ego. Morning Star was a term he held dearly to his heart; it was who he had been in Heaven and the short amount of time he had spent on Earth. In Hell, the term had been all but dropped from his vocabulary, as well as the ones of his brothers. He was no longer the morning star, shining bright and shedding light on all those around him, he was known now as nothing more than the father of demons, a traitor who was to be hated and knocked down. She may not have said anything complimentary but the term enough was enough to set his thoughts afloat for a passing moment.

"I see my reputation precedes me." his voice was low and calm as he began to pace slowly back and forth in front of her. Taking a deep breath, he tried to get a better grasp on the power she possessed inside the cavities of her chest and yet the overbearing odor of her tainted flesh filled the room. He looked at his pets, the ignorant mutts practically basking in the smell. "Mongrels." he snarled at them, the word followed by a symphany of whimpers as he snapped his fingers, her freshly clean body now draped in a cloth to keep her covered from the beasts surrounding them. Stripping her had been necessary, he was sure, but the filthy creatures around him were not virtuous enough to approach such an act in a strictly professional form.

"I have gazed into the hearts of every wolf on this little planet and yet there are none out there quite like you." He flashed a smile as he leaned in close to her, "I need your help, Adeline." He could hear the wolves around him growing anxious, his presence causing them to act foolish and cocky, as if he alone would be able to save them from her wrath. He cast a warning glance back at them, nothing more than the slight flick of his eyes on them but they all caught on, he'd taught them well in the mannerisms of their master. It wasn't until each one had dropped to the ground, resting on their knees in a submissive manner, that he finally returned his attention back to her. "I need you to assist me in improving this pathetic planet. Should you say yes, you will be rewarded accordingly."

[unendinghungers-deactivated2013]

Louisiana Vibe III Lucifer and Victor

Victor had settled himself near the edge of this swampy looking lake. Cars rushed back and forth on the road behind him as he made his way through the brush slowly. Looking across the lake he could clearly see Isobel’s house in the distance.

This had all been by chance really. He had been walking along and witnessed Isobel - and then followed her around for a while until he had bearings on her normal routine and where she lived. If he was going to properly mess with her head than he had to get to know more about the now with her living in Dallas.

The spot reminded him of Louisiana.

The dripping leaves above his head - the humidity - the swamp. And then Isobel’s house being so much like a plantation house as the white monstrosity sat across the lake. Was he a bit home sick? Maybe but he wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it. Ever. What he would be caught doing was making a slit in his wrist and watching as the dark red - black looking substance oozed down his arm and into his lake.

A gris-gris was then taken from his pocket. It had human teeth and bones and then feathers and a charm - and he began to murmur words in another language as he sat there - the mud of the side of the swamp seeping into the knees of his slacks.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Lucifer had never seen any value in any other species other than his own, humans had been his Father's creations but he couldn't be too sure about any of the rock's other inhabitants. Therefor he saw them as nothing but scum, dirty little monstrosities that he dare not waste a second on. However when he returned to Earth a second time he took a different approach entirely to his future conquest. He could feel each beat of every creature's heart drumming alongside his own and suddenly a few of them seemed useful to him. He wished to will his brothers to stand at his side, but if they continued to blindly obey their Father then it was not his fault if they were to fall at his feet, drowning in their own lifeforce. He would give them many opportunities but in the end his army would tear through the world and destroy those who still stood against him.

To accomplish this feat he first needed an army, in the beginning he had thought his children would be enough, but as he watched them grow and reach their full potentials he knew that they could never be all he wanted them to be. It was time he seek out others, offer them the world on a silver platter in exchange for their unwavering loyalty. Those who accepted would be showered with pleasures beyond their imaginations until he had no further use for them. Those who denied his offer, would be disposed of quickly, so they would not further waste his time. He had already sought out werewolves, vampires, even catching the ears of a few reapers as well as many other creatures he knew not the names of and yet it never felt even remotely close to being enough. He need stronger, wiser beings to help in his plan. There was one in particular he had kept his eye on for quite some time. An older presence in Dallas, a man but still it was unlike anything else he'd sought out so far; there was the slightest taste of humanity and yet he knew it was not a human, not a pure human at least. He breathed in the thick musk radiating from the unknown creature, letting it swirl in his lungs before he finally made quick haste of appearing behind the being he had let enthrall his thoughts for so long.

He tilted his head to the side in confusion at the string of words flowing seemingly endlessly from the man's lips, he looked human enough but once again the strong odor of something else filled the angel's nostrils. "What a peculiar thing you are." a phrase he was using more and more frequently it seemed, he allowed his voice to resonate throughout the space around them, bouncing from the trees back to wrap around them as he kept a watchful eye on the being before him. He knew this man could not harm him in any shape or form and yet he had yet to lay eyes on such a thing before. He was not afraid, not in the slightest, just more confused by the scene laid out before him. "I have yet to come across a being I need introduce myself to and yet it seems the proper thing to do. I am Lucifer. And I need your help."

[zachariahisbetterthanyou-blog]

Losing my religion [Closed to Lucifer]

It would come as no surprise to anyone that when Zachariah came to consciousness in the middle of the grass in some park in the middle of nowhere, the first thing he did was pray. First, he prayed for forgiveness (for his shortcomings and just for the hell of it). He got no response. Then, he prayed for guidance. He got no response. He distantly heard someone upchucking the contents of their stomach in a nearby alleyway. Lastly, he prayed for strength to become the vigilante for justice that he vowed he would be. He got no response. And for the first time in a long time, he considered no news to be good news. God may have left the building, but Zachariah was back. He waited for a patient moment, as if he expected some sort of welcoming party. He was still a Seraph, after all, the cream of the crop, the role model that they should all wish to be. He’d do everything and anything for Heaven, and at the end of the day, and what did he have to show for himself? He was still standing; that was it. Some angels tended to overthink every little thing, trying to find meaning where there was none, as if they could grasp at some straw to get closer to God. Zachariah had endured that phase, a long time ago, when he was very young. Where is God in all of this? Eventually, he learnt the truth. But he didn’t spoil it for those who still clung onto their rosary beads and said a Hail Mary just for kicks. They deserved that much. After all, everything was wrong in the world. That’s the only idea that he got when he looked around in the subsequent days of his revival. The apocalypse was a gift and blessing to this planet, but they had forsaken it. Perhaps, then, they didn’t deserve it. Zachariah returned to that park where he’d shown up in the successive nights, sitting on a park bench and staring up at the sky and wondering how everything had gone so wrong. Humanity; this was the end all, this was what God had created out of his own image, that the angels were supposed to cherish? All he wanted to do was make the righteous man beg for mercy from him.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Lucifer had lost his grace long ago, where it had been nestled in the crook where his heart met his lungs was now nothing but a gaping hole with edges burned black. He's never known whether it withered away in Hell or whether Michael ripped it free from him but it's not something he focuses on too much, why shed a tear over spilt milk. Angels have their grace but the fallen one had found an alternative. He had stumbled upon the fact that if he drank the blood of his children then his senses would be heightened, he developed powers beyond his wildest dreams, he was stronger than any angel he'd cross; save for Michael, of course. His children's love had wavored but there were still many willing to sacrifice themselves at his command, each one a perfect little soldier, a loatheful attribute he found disdainful and yet very necessary.

One gift he'd acquired was the ability to sense the disturbance of a new creature within a certain range of his own being. If he closed his eyes and focused he could define their species and should he see any importance in them he could go to them. His children referred to it as his "Spidey sense", a reference he could never quite grasp, but the inhabitants of this planet spoke many tongues he never bothered wrapping his mind around. It was rare for him to waste his time focusing on new creatures let alone seek any out, new vampires popped up here and there, feasting mercilessly on the humans and a few turning on each other; nothing worth his time. But occassionally it came in handy, he always knew when his brothers came to earth. They gave off a vibe so much stronger than any other creature; something that usually rattled him to his core, causing him to immediately go to them. But such an event hadn't happened in quite a while, the airwaves silent since his last tussel with Michael.

He had recently taken to wasting his time seducing lowly creatures to his side; wolves, fangs, shifters to name a few. As well as spending entirely too much time in the presence of his children, their eyes gleaming even in the hooded veil of black as the fawned over him, following his ever command without even a second's hesitation. He was growing tired of his surroundings. He was even beginning to grow weary of the few visits he had with his brothers, stimulating conversation but so often they were armed with their Father's words, ready to cast them into his face the moment he was in their presence. No, Lucifer was bored, he needed something new to capture his attention. Something to keep him enthra-

Like a bolt of lightning surging beneath his skin he felt a newly reborn creature enter the world; something powerful, something old. The sensation flowed through his vessel and even ruffled through his hidden wings, though they were tucked away inside the flesh he could still feel each feather stand at attention from the new presence. He looked from face to face of each demon around him, to check if they felt it as well. But each one continued on as normal and without a word he left them. He needed to seek out this creature, his eyes fell shut so that before he even stepped foot in front of the angel he knew who and what he was dealing with, "Zachariah, brother, so good to see you back." the smile on his face genuine as he sized up the man before him, he could practically taste the pride and arrogance this one radiated, an angel after his own heart.

[pinkrobotboogaloo]

Visit Original Link

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

If the sky that we look upon Should tumble and fall And the mountains should crumble to the sea I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no I won’t shed a tear Just as long as you stand, stand by me

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

When the fight in Heaven first began Lucifer had come down to Earth, blinding and burning through the inferior beings without even lifting a finger. But one set of ears had perked up, had heard his voice and not just the ear shredding whine most humans heard. She'd been young, even by human standards, and yet when the angel looked into her eyes he saw a lifetime of torment and misery that rivaled his own. He saw a pain that had been painted permanently into her flesh, burning somewhere deep inside her like embers that would never extinguish. He saw an opportunity, a flawed human soul not even yet corrupted by the other's around her, not truly, and yet evil and hate was still inside her. He saw an opportunity to prove his Father wrong. Without her even asking any questions he extended his grace to wrap around her, saying softly in her ear, "I am an angel of the Lord." she reached out, attempting to hold onto him, to find comfort in him. Her small hands gripping tight to the light that was only slightly solid around her, blinding but still providing her with what she'd spent so long desperately searching for, she found love, "I am Lucifer. I need your help." the safety she felt wrapped around her was enough for her to say yes, she'd do anything for him.

He wasn't sure it was possible, was simply playing guessing games, but with minimal effort he was able to crawl inside her. His wings folded neatly away along his back, his grace tucked somewhere below his heart, a snug fit but nothing uncomfortable. She was crying, he could hear it and despite the hatred he had spoken so adamentaly about in Heaven, he still felt a pang of despair in his heart and he sought her out. She'd practically leaped into his arms, her fingers clawing at him in a desperate attempt to hold onto him. She was shaking so hard he could barely hold her up but he leaned in close, his lips brushing lightly across her ear as he whispered, "I know it's cold, my child, but you will know peace. You will know love. I will be a better father than mine ever was." When they speak of the first demon, Lillith, everyone assumes Lucifer corrupted her, twisted her with evil until she was the barbaric monster she became but this is the opposite of what he did. He did not touch her heart with evil or hate, he dipped his grace into the warm pool of her soul and he let just a drop of an angel's love fall there. This is how the first demon was born.

[thefirstson]

Silence

Michael’s one job in the position he held for nearly his entire existence was to protect and lead his family. He was very good at it; how could he not be, with God pointing him in the right direction? For a time, Michael only had his Father for a companion.  Death was present, but even then he seemed thousands of years old to a fledgling Michael.  He remembered the first time he’d met the man, remembered the spindly look of his fingers and gaunt look to his face, the hollows beneath his cheekbones and a frame that looked far too fragile. But there was a look in his eyes, something hungry and terrifying.

That was the first time Michael knew fear, when he was too small to understand and shrank behind God’s leg. 

But Death was not a constant presence in Heaven. Michael only had his Father and a vast, empty Heaven. That his Father needed something so large for only the two of them confused him sometimes.  This was most felt when Michael was left on his own to explore - as he was more often than not, the older he grew.  He asked once, mustered up the courage enough to question his Father.  God gave him a gentle smile and ruffled his hair, making Michael’s wings puff out with pride at such a rare display of physical affection. There would be others, God said. 

And there were.  The first - second; second after Michael, first of the other archangels to come after him - was bright and beautiful, three sets of wings a brilliant color more pure light than actual hue, hard to look right at when God first brought him to Michael. Michael was bigger then, out of his first awkward fledgling stages and just learning to fly properly. He looked down at the fledgling, looked up at the patient smile on his Father’s face, and named Lucifer without having meant to. “He is very, very bright, Father. Like looking straight into a morning star.” 

Having only heard their Father’s voice before, Lucifer startled and looked up at Michael.  He reached out with Grace and hands, both clumsy and gripping too hard in his eagerness, both making Michael gasp at first.

“Take care of him, Michael,” Father said. “This will be your first duty. You will have many, many more to come, but this will be your most important.”

And Michael, already allowing Lucifer to clutch at him, one small hand combing through his wings in a way that made him shudder, nodded. 

He obeyed, but it was not an order that needed giving. Michael loved his companion and Lucifer seemed to love him.  He no longer felt the strange pull of loneliness when their Father left him alone. The first and second had each other.  

Lucifer grew to be quite the opposite to his eldest brother in many, many ways, but Michael still loved him. Lucifer knew how to get under his skin better than anyone else, knew how to start the most mundane arguments and even fluster the normally verbose Viceroy to silence. But Lucifer also knew how to make him laugh like no one else, seemingly taking as much enjoyment in the way Michael’s face would light up as he did when poking fun at the First. 

It was many, many years later that their Father asked of them what he did and Lucifer’s temperament turned sour. The argument separated the two of them long before it fully divided Heaven. Michael still loved him, but at times wondered if it would be easier to pretend otherwise.  Lucifer’s actions were strange and confusing to Michael, who had only ever seen his brother show the utmost love and respect for their Father. In the end, Michael hardly recognized the brother who so easily turned against him, all because Michael could not turn against the one who made them, because Michael followed orders and did what was right and good.  

Michael loved him even when he had Lucifer on the ground at his feet, battle-weary and defeated, the blood of their brothers on his hands and conscience. And Michael loved Lucifer when he cast him out.

Michael found his answer soon after, as he was helping Raphael and the others rebuild. It wasn’t easier to pretend that he no longer cared about his brother. In fact, it only drove the loneliness in deeper when it began to settle in again. But all of Heaven needed him, and Michael resumed his post without pause, until the day came that Lucifer drew him away a second time.  

[thefirstson]

I remember well enough.  But I have lived all this time with knowing what I had to do to you for your insubordination, Lucifer.  No amount of physical pain could equal what it was to me to cast you out, because you simply refused to think logically.

You were given the opportunity to thrive in your kingdom.  Our Father could have cast you down with the humans, ripped the Grace from your body or had me do it for Him, so that the last faces you would ever see would be those that you hurt most.  You acted against Him again, out of spite, in twisting that human’s soul. You’ve damned yourself twice over, and still, still refuse to take responsibility. Even by trying to talk me out of our fight, you were attempting to avoid a punishment earned. 

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

So, the horrendous torture I experienced is nothing compared to the boo boo on your conscience? Maybe it was guilt you were plagued with, Michael. Although that seems a little far fetched for my big brother, daddy's perfect soldier, nothing more than a mindless obedient attack dog.  I never twisted any soul. I simply amplified what was truly inside that abomination, what's inside all of them. They are evil and rotten straight down to their core and I tried to show him that. We are above them, brother. We are better than them. I wanted him to see how they truly are so that he would know what he was asking of us was wrong. And yet he turns a blind eye to them, let's them go without even a slap on the wrist. I was not trying to avoid a punishment earned; I was trying to avoid needless bloodshed. Maybe you are plagued with the memory of casting me out, Michael. But I am plagued with memories of seemingly never ending torture and isolation. I am burdened with the hatred from humans, angels, and demons. I am scarred from betrayal from not only my Father but of a brother I held so close to my heart. You wanted the last faces I saw to be those of the ones I hurt most, but the last face I ever saw was yours, the one who hurt me most, and it haunted me every second in Hell, causing more anguish than any flame ever could.

[thefirstson]

You keep saying Father made you what you are, that he has written our story for us without ever giving us a chance to decide for ourselves.  You push blame, Lucifer, you always have.  

But if Father so clearly sets our paths for us, have you not simply been obeying and doing exactly what he wants you to do this entire time? Playing your role? That sounds remarkably obedient to me, if God wanted the Devil, as you said before.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Tell me, brother. Do you still remember what it was like inside that cage? Surely, you must. It's not easy to forget spending a few centuries as a marshmallow. Everyone assumes we tortured the Winchesters while we were there. But what no one realizes is when you're in there the only thing you can focus on is the way your flesh feels so frozen it burns to move, to breath, and yet you can feel flames digging into your skin; crawling inside you until it grips tight to your insides, burning and rotting you from the inside out. Even just being there is torture. Sam Winchester pulled you inside that cage and for that I will always be grateful to him. Because you got to live, even for a short time, what you and Father put me through for millenniums. Nothing happens without Father's hand in it. He must have known what it was like in that cage and he still had you throw me in there; knowing what each second down there would turn me into. All compassion and obedience was literally roasted out of me down there. I am not pushing blame, brother, I placing blame where blame is due.

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

Even if their meeting hadn't been on too friendly terms Lucifer still felt a slight buzzing sensation in his veins once they'd parted. He'd loved all his brothers and while he had always shown more favoritism towards Gabriel it was still Michael who was his most beloved.

The angel had basically raised him after all, days when their Father was most absent it was Michael who offered him the attention, and occasionally affection, he desperately craved. He was the calm collected one who never raised his voice, even as he'd pry Lucifer and Raphael apart, the two always butting heads, he'd scold them in a firm but still unharsh voice then send them on their way.

The fallen angel had always admired the way Michael never truly let his soldier like demeanor falter when in the presence of his brothers or Father. But Lucifer had seen the stoic facade crack, he'd witnessed wide smiles and heard the soft babble of the archangel's laugh. He'd lived an eternity at his older brother's side, growing together, learning together, fighting together, and he'd known a happiness so pure and true it would be all that would consume his thoughts for centuries to pass.

And in an instant everything he'd ever lived for was ripped from his hands and thrown into the cage that would house him for milleniums. He gazed down from their home to behold two mortal creatures, his Father's newest creations, ones that Michael informed him would be their superiors. He huddled with all his brothers as they watched the female be seduced by the tongue of a serpent, everyone murmering disdain for the foul creature who'd betrayed the humans but Lucifer only saw creatures who did not deserve the paradise they'd been offered.

[thefirstson]

Mind your tongue. Had you any sense of devotion or real compassion the way I thought you did, you would have done as He asked and avoided all of this. 

No, Lucifer. He left us to our own devices, and look what has happened.  There is barely even a home left to return to because of what Raphael and Castiel’s civil war did.  You cannot ignore what damage free will has done to this family.   

He doesn’t talk to you. And I for one cannot say that I hold it against Him. What I see is a petulant child who still has yet to learn from his mistakes. You chose spite and foolish pride over the love of your family then, the same as you are now. You are bitter and cold, Lucifer, and I scarcely understand this thing you’ve become. 

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

To quote back to you words you gave a little Winchester way back when, Free will is an illusion. You and I both know that nothing happens unless it has dear ole' dad's little stamp of approval on it. Our paths are as lined out as the vermin's are to them. You can say all these hurtful things about me, Michael. But I am not the monster in this story, not on purpose. I stood up for what I believed in. What I thought was right. Now I am simply the scapegoat Father painted me to be. He needed a Devil, and he pushed me into that role. This thing I've become; I am exactly what he made me. What he set out for me to be. You're pointing the finger of blame in all the wrong directions.

[thefirstson]

You are still as disillusioned now as you were then.  He loved you more than any of us, even more than he loved me, and I was his best, his first creation. I did everything I was supposed to and never once questioned my orders.  For you to suggest that I go against our Father…that would have been no better than spitting in His face as thanks for all He gave us. 

You forgot your place, Morningstar. You gave me no choice. 

[letsdosomethingrotten-blog]

He spit in our faces the moment he created those abominations; the moment he asked us to bow to them. He gave me no choice. Michael, how can you be so blind? He asks us to slay each other. He spends centuries setting up for the one moment when we shed each other's blood and for what? So these cockroaches can have everlasting paradise? We are his children and he was willing to sacrifice us for them, while he sat in the shadows and did nothing. He's not even around and you're still going to let him make you dance like a puppet on strings? He doesn't even talk to us anymore.  Maybe he gave us so much in the beginning but in the end he asked us to lay our lives down for creatures who did not deserve it, who rejected his gift and spat in his face. He was wrong about them; about me. Please see that, brother.